The night air held a sacred stillness.
For generations, the Moonshadow Pack had honored the Moon Ceremony—a ritual older than the stones beneath their paws. Once every full moon, the goddess was invited to awaken destiny, and beneath her radiant eye, mates were revealed.
This night, the entire forest glistened under moonlight. Mist rolled like smoke across the forest floor, silver leaves trembling gently in the hush. Pine torches lined the ceremonial path, leading toward the Sacred Grove at the heart of the territory.
Luna stood at the edge of the torchlight, breath shallow, fingers nervously gripping the hem of her tunic.
She wore a simple linen dress—hand-stitched, threadbare, and too short at the ankles. No ribbons. No oils. No blessed jewelry. She'd washed in the stream just before sunset, hoping the cold would numb the fire in her chest.
You don't belong here, Selene's voice echoed in her mind.
But Elder Lyra's voice pushed back, soft and persistent:
The Moon Goddess doesn't shout. She whispers. You must be brave enough to listen.
Luna inhaled deeply.
One step. Then another.
She followed the path toward the grove, heart pounding in her throat.
Within the Sacred Grove, the entire pack had already gathered. Wolves of every rank sat in half-circles, arranged by age and position. The Elders stood in front of the Moonstone altar. At their center: Elder Lyra, cloaked in white and silver.
The Ceremony was about to begin.
Luna moved to the edge of the crowd, slipping into the outer circle beside Mira, who gave her a nervous but supportive smile.
"Glad you came," Mira whispered.
Luna nodded faintly, scanning the crowd.
Selene stood near the front with Orion. She wore a gown of glistening white and pale lavender, hand-embroidered with tiny opals that caught the moonlight with every breath. Her hair was braided with silver wire and pearls. Her smile was pristine.
But her eyes—when they flicked to Luna—were sharp with venom.
Orion stood beside her, silent and still. He was dressed in ceremonial black with the silver Alpha torque across his collarbone. He didn't look at Luna. Not once.
But she felt him.
The pull.
It wasn't gentle.
It was a fierce, anchoring thread tugging at something inside her chest. Something ancient. Something inevitable.
She looked away.
The ritual began.
One by one, eligible wolves stepped forward and drank from the silver chalices held by the Elders. Each sip was mixed with sacred herbs, moonroot, and the tiniest drop of the wolf's own blood. It was a calling—to the Moon Goddess, to fate, to bond.
Those fated would feel it instantly: the connection.
A lightness. A glow. A knowing.
Those who were not… would feel nothing at all.
Luna's stomach twisted as her turn approached.
She saw others discover their mates—some joyfully embracing, others overwhelmed to tears. Mira found her mate, a gentle scout named Dax, and the two glowed with surprise and delight.
Luna watched, heart in her throat, as she was called forward.
"Luna of the Moonshadow Pack," Elder Lyra intoned, holding the final chalice. "Step into the light."
The crowd turned.
Whispers.
Murmurs.
Selene's scoff was audible, but not addressed.
Luna walked to the center, her bare feet whispering over the grass. She looked up at Lyra's wise, unblinking eyes.
"Are you ready to receive what the Moon Goddess has written?" Lyra asked quietly.
Luna hesitated. "I… I don't know."
Lyra smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "You do not need to be ready. You only need to be willing."
With trembling fingers, Luna took the chalice.
The liquid inside shimmered—silver-blue with faint strands of light. She lifted it to her lips, her pulse thundering, and drank.
It was cold at first.
Then warm.
Then fire.
Not a burn, but a slow unfurling heat that spread through her chest, blooming outward like light from within.
Her knees wobbled.
The moon overhead flared brighter, casting a spotlight across the grove.
Then it hit her.
The bond.
It snapped through her like lightning. Her breath caught. Her eyes widened.
And then they turned, of their own accord, toward one wolf.
Orion.
He felt it too.
He staggered slightly where he stood, eyes locking with hers.
The crowd went still.
Selene's jaw dropped.
Orion's expression changed—anger, shock, disbelief, fear.
"No," he said aloud. "No. This isn't right."
Luna flinched.
"I am the Alpha," Orion continued, stepping back. "This is a mistake."
Elder Marros took a step forward, raising his staff. "Orion—"
"No!" he growled, chest rising. "She cannot be my mate!"
His voice echoed through the grove like thunder.
Luna felt the pull in her chest quiver, tremble—and snap. Not broken, but stretched so tight she could hardly breathe.
"She's nothing!" Selene shouted, voice shrill. "She's a runt! An orphan! A burden!"
The silence that followed her words was deafening.
Luna stood frozen beneath the light, her face pale.
Orion stepped forward one last time, his jaw clenched.
"I reject you, Luna," he said, voice tight. "You are not my mate."
The crowd gasped. A few wolves muttered in outrage. Elder Lyra looked away.
Luna's throat burned, but she forced herself to lift her chin.
"I accept your rejection," she said softly.
The words cracked her open.
Inside, pain spilled out like blood.
But her voice held.
"I would rather walk alone than be chained to someone ashamed of me."
She bowed to the Elders. Then turned her back on them all.
No one moved to stop her.
She didn't cry.
She didn't run.
She walked—slow, steady, into the dark.
Hours passed.
She wandered deep into the forest, beyond the pack's borders, past the hunting trails and patrol lines. Her feet bled. Her vision blurred. The bond inside her burned like a dying ember.
When she reached the edge of the sacred glade where she'd once spoken to the Moon Goddess, she fell to her knees.
The stars above blinked.
"Why?" she whispered. "Why give me something just to tear it away?"
No answer came.
But the trees leaned toward her.
The wind curled around her shoulders.
And the moon shone down.
Not cruelly.
But gently.
You are not abandoned.
Luna sobbed once, then closed her eyes.
And for the first time in her life, she didn't pray for someone to save her.
She prayed for the strength to save herself.