The sky above MoonClaw Pack looked like someone had spilled blue ink and glitter all over it. Lanterns hung everywhere, bobbing in the breeze, tossing light across the birch trees and making the courtyard look—honestly?—like a scene straight out of a fairy tale, if fairy tales had barbecue smoke and a bunch of sweaty werewolves. They were celebrating the warriors coming back from taking down some rogues. Everyone was laughing, someone was absolutely murdering the drums, and the air? Forget about breathing, it was just wall-to-wall roasted meat and herbs.
But Evangeline Draven—Eva to her actual friends—wasn't really feeling the party vibes.
Tonight was her nineteenth birthday. Big deal, right? Except, for werewolves, it kind of was. Tonight was "find your mate" night. Supposedly magical, but Eva mostly felt her heart doing that annoying fluttering thing. Not because she was excited. Not really. Her heart was a mess anyway, always had been—a busted, traitorous piece of garbage that made every day feel like walking a tightrope. But tonight, she was hoping for something different. Like maybe, just maybe, she'd find the person who was supposed to love her, broken parts and all.
"Eva!" Hann's voice cut through the noise, and thank the Moon Goddess for her. Hann was basically her ride-or-die, the only one who didn't treat her like she was about to fall over dead at any second. Hann pushed through the crowd, braid swinging, grinning like she owned the place.
"You look like you fell out of a legend," Hann said, dusting off Eva's dress in a way that was more for show than anything. "Not like the girl with the cursed heart."
Eva snorted. "You're gonna jinx it, you know. Maybe the Moon Goddess will throw me a bone for once."
"You deserve it."
Maybe. Eva chewed her lip, eyes sliding over to the platform where the big man himself was supposed to show up—Alpha Kieran Cross. Youngest Alpha ever, yadda yadda, everyone acted like he was some kind of werewolf superhero. Whispers went around that he could kill a rogue just by looking at him funny. The guy had that vibe, sure—dark, intense, the kind of dude you'd cross the street to avoid, but also, like, hot. Stupidly hot, if she was being honest. And yeah, maybe a tiny, traitorous part of her hoped he was her mate. Ridiculous, right?
The music faded out, everyone straightened up like soldiers, and then—boom, there he was. Kieran, all in black, stepping out of the shadows with his warriors behind him, looking like he owned the moon itself. His eyes were sharp enough to cut glass, and when he scanned the crowd, Eva felt like a mouse in front of a really good-looking hawk.
Then he saw her.
Everything stopped. Her heart tripped, then forgot how to work entirely. He looked right at her—eyes narrowing, jaw clenched—and for a second, she couldn't breathe. It felt like the whole world pressed in on her, hot and heavy, and for the first time ever, her wolf actually woke up. Like, hey, what's up, you're alive.
Mate.
That single word crashed through her like a wrecking ball.
Kieran's nostrils flared. He started walking straight toward her. The crowd parted like he was Moses and they were the Red Sea or whatever. Silence fell, everyone watching.
She shook, honestly seconds away from ugly-crying. After everything, all the pain, the whispers, the feeling like a walking cautionary tale—here it was. Her mate. The real deal.
"Kieran…" she managed, looking up at him. He was a solid wall of unreadable, cold perfection.
And then he said it. "I reject you."
It punched the breath out of her. Her knees went jelly.
"I, Alpha Kieran Cross of MoonClaw, reject you, Evangeline Draven, as my mate."
The crowd gasped. Like, actual audible gasps. So dramatic.
"No…" The word barely made it past her lips. "You can't."
Kieran didn't even flinch. "I need a Luna strong enough to stand beside me. Not a burden."
Wow. Just, wow. Like her heart needed another crack in it.
Kieran turned, didn't even bother to look back, and headed for the stage. Ariella Moon—the blonde from Red Dawn Pack, the one who looked like she belonged on a perfume ad—wrapped herself around his arm like she'd been waiting for this exact moment. He held her hand up, all proud.
"This is my mate," he announced.
The crowd went nuts.
Eva's world? Yeah, it pretty much exploded right then.
All she remembered was Hann yelling her name, and then her legs disappeared. Gravity, meet Eva.
Cold air slapped her awake as she ran, barefoot, through the woods. Tears streaming, dress all ripped up, Eva just kept going until her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her heart—useless, traitorous thing—started pounding, then slowing, then just… not.
She finally collapsed at the roots of some ancient tree, moonlight all over her like a bad joke.
"Is this it?" she croaked, staring at the sky. "Really? This is how it ends?"
Everything shook. Inside her, something just… snapped.
And then, everything changed.
She let out this raw, guttural scream—honestly, it barely sounded human. Snap, snap—her bones went off like popcorn. Heat blazed under her skin, veins on fire, the world swimming in and out of focus. That wolf inside her? The one she'd shoved down for years? Boom. No more hiding. It just exploded out, wild and pissed off.
Except, this wasn't your run-of-the-mill shift. Nah. Her fur wasn't the usual brown, gray, or black. Nope. She came out drenched in red—like, blood-red. The kind of red that makes you stare and forget how to breathe, burning crazy-bright under the moon.
Yeah. The red wolf. The one from the stupid stories.
She bolted. Fast as hell. Way faster than she'd ever managed in her regular skin. Trees smeared into green streaks, her wolf letting loose a howl that said, Don't even think about messing with me. Felt like she'd been waiting her whole damn life for this.
Then—nothing. Just silence, sudden and heavy.
Adrenaline bailed on her. She crashed under some ancient oak, the ground tilting like she'd just gotten off a merry-go-round from hell. Legs gave out. She shifted back—skin bare, covered in bruises, shaking like a leaf.
And her heart? Just… stopped.
Not too far off, Silas Woods had his hand clenched around the dagger on his thigh, eyes sharp. The rogues were just over the ridge, apparently plotting some heroic jailbreak for their buddies snatched by the MoonClaw Pack.
He was about to give the go-ahead—then froze. Nose twitching.
There it was. A scent, strong and sweet, punched him in the face.
Wildflowers. Dirt. Smoke. Honey, somehow.
His wolf nearly broke loose. Mate.
Before he could overthink it, Silas was gone, darting through the trees like a shadow, following that scent—heart pounding, feet silent. He found her. This girl—barely holding on. Curled up under the moon, skin paper-white, not moving.
He dropped beside her, knees in the dirt, hand shaking as he reached for her cheek.
The second their skin touched, her eyes snapped open.
Blue? Not anymore. They burned orange-gold, wild and unreal.
And just like that, the world kind of stopped.
"Mate," they breathed, voices tangled together, perfect and broken at the same time.