The aftermath of the Moon Ceremony rippled like a shockwave through the Moonshadow Pack.
By morning, no one was talking about the new fated pairs. Not Mira and Dax's unexpected match. Not the Elders' blessings or the ceremonial dance that had followed.
No.
They only talked about one thing.
The rejection.
"The Alpha rejected her. Right there, in front of the entire pack."
"Did you see the light? The Moon Goddess chose her—and he still said no."
"She didn't even cry. Just… walked away."
"Shameful. For him."
"For her. Imagine thinking you were worthy of the Alpha."
The stories twisted with every telling. Some softened Orion's actions, claiming confusion or magical interference. Others whispered that Luna had somehow forced the bond through witchcraft.
But none could ignore what they had seen.
A wolf rejected by her mate.
Publicly.
Permanently.
And not just any wolf.
The Alpha.
⸻
Selene basked in the attention.
She glided through the dens with her usual theatrical poise, playing the scorned almost-Luna with performative grace.
"Of course, it was all a mistake," she said with a gentle sigh to a group of younger she-wolves. "Poor thing probably misread the signs. Luna's fragile, you know. Soft-minded. She's always been emotional."
"She did drink the chalice," one offered cautiously. "The moonlight chose her."
Selene's expression didn't falter. "The moonlight flickers on everyone, darling. That doesn't make her fated. Just… hopeful."
The other girls giggled nervously.
"I heard the bond was real," someone whispered. "But she just wasn't enough."
Selene didn't deny it.
Didn't need to.
The damage was done.
And now that Luna had vanished from the camp, she wasn't there to defend herself.
⸻
In the war council room, however, the tone was different.
Orion stood before the Elders with his arms folded, expression unreadable.
Elder Lyra sat across from him, hands clasped, eyes heavy with disappointment.
"Do you truly understand what you've done?" she asked, voice calm but edged in steel.
"I made a choice," Orion replied evenly. "A necessary one."
"You defied the Moon Goddess."
"I rejected a bond that would weaken our pack."
The room chilled.
Elder Marros rose slowly. "Your fated mate is not a tool. She is not a weapon to be measured in strength or convenience."
"I need a Luna who can lead beside me," Orion insisted. "She cannot even keep up in training. She's an outcast. A liability."
"She was chosen," Lyra said sharply. "By the goddess. And you shamed her before her entire pack. Before us."
Orion flinched but said nothing.
"She could have refused you," Lyra continued. "She could have begged, wept, clung to the bond. But she didn't. She accepted your rejection with more honor than you delivered it."
The silence afterward was suffocating.
Finally, Elder Marros sighed. "You've made your choice, Alpha. But the pack watches you now. Not with awe. With judgment."
⸻
They were watching.
Orion saw it in their stares.
The hesitant greetings. The too-quick bows. The whispers that paused the moment he entered a room.
His authority remained intact—no one dared challenge the Alpha—but the reverence had… shifted. Softened.
And though no one said it aloud, he heard the question behind every look.
Why?
Why her?
Why did you reject the one the Moon gave you?
He told himself it was right. Logical. Justified.
But the bond still burned faintly in his chest, like an ember refusing to die.
⸻
Two days later, a scout reported back with an update.
"She left the territory," the scout said. "Southeast. Into the ridge valleys."
"Was she alone?" Orion asked.
"Yes, Alpha."
"Rogue?"
The scout hesitated. "She's not registered with any pack. She's alone. Living rough."
Selene sat beside him in the war chamber, sipping tea as though the conversation bored her.
"She'll die out there," she said casually. "Wolves like her don't last a moon on their own. No pack. No rank. She's nothing now."
Orion didn't respond.
But the word echoed in his mind.
Nothing.
The girl who had stood before the entire pack, humiliated and trembling—and had still walked away.
Nothing?
He wasn't so sure anymore.
⸻
Elsewhere, Luna made her way through unfamiliar woods, living between roots and rain.
The hunger gnawed at her, but not as sharply as it had during her first winter alone. She scavenged berries. Caught a rabbit with a makeshift snare. Found a cave by the river and marked it as temporary shelter.
She didn't howl.
Didn't cry.
She just… endured.
The pain of rejection hadn't disappeared. But it had dulled. Hardened. She wore it now like a scar across her ribs—tender, but hers.
The world outside Moonshadow was colder, but it was also quieter.
Here, no one sneered when she passed.
No one watched her stumble in training or whispered about her orphan status. There were no eyes, no claws wrapped in compliments.
Just the trees.
And the moon.
Sometimes, she felt it.
A hum in the wind. A faint light that bent just for her.
Not words.
Not promises.
Just presence.
She wasn't forgotten.
Not by the Moon.
⸻
Back in Moonshadow, wolves began to whisper again.
Not about Luna's failure.
But about Orion's.
"He looked shaken after the Ceremony."
"Did you see the way his hands trembled before he said the words?"
"The bond still holds. You can feel it."
"He rejected her. But he's not free."
Selene heard it too.
And she hated it.
It was supposed to be her moment—her elevation. But now, wolves were looking past her. At Orion. At the gap beside him.
The Luna's seat sat empty.
And every full moon that passed, that absence grew louder.
⸻
Elder Lyra gathered the council one week after the Ceremony.
They sat around the sacred fire in silence.
"The Moon is shifting," Lyra said quietly. "Something has awakened."
"She should not be alone," Marros added. "Rogues are hunted in the borderlands."
"She chose exile," Ryven said, though without conviction. "She rejected him too."
"No," Lyra whispered. "She chose herself."
That silenced the room.
"She will not return the same," Lyra said. "The goddess has marked her. And those touched by divine pain… they do not return unchanged."
"Do you think she'll survive?" asked Elder Rika.
Lyra stared into the flames.
"I think she'll become something they never saw coming."