Rowena's POV
I'm staring at my reflection when the whispers start.
"She won't shift tonight either."
"Nineteen years old and still human. It's embarrassing."
"Poor Callister, stuck with that promise to a wolfless freak."
The voices drift through my bedroom window from the pack members gathering outside. They think I can't hear them. Or maybe they don't care if I do.
I touch my neck where a mate mark should be. The skin is smooth, empty, just like it's been every day of my nineteen years. Today is the Awakening Moon ceremony—my last chance to shift before the pack labels me human and kicks me out forever.
My hands shake as I lower them from my throat.
You can do this, I tell myself. Today will be different.
But I've said that every year since I turned thirteen. Every year, I've stood under the moon and felt... nothing. No wolf. No transformation. Just shame burning my cheeks while everyone watches me fail.
"Rowena!" My uncle Dashiell's voice booms from downstairs. "Stop hiding in your room! The ceremony starts in an hour!"
I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to calm my racing heart. When I open them again, I see my mother's face instead of mine.
The memory hits me like a fist to the stomach.
I'm seven years old, and my home is burning. Orange flames eat through the wooden beams of Hartwell Keep. My mother's scream cuts through the roar of fire. "Rowena, run! Don't look back!"
But I do look back. I see the massive dark wolf—the Lycan King's beast—tear through our front door. I see my father shift to protect my mother. I see blood.
Then Uncle Dashiell's arms wrap around me, pulling me away. "Don't watch, little one. Don't watch."
"Mom! Dad!" I'm screaming, fighting his grip.
"They're gone," he whispers into my hair. "But I'll take care of you. I promise. You're safe now."
Safe. What a lie that turned out to be.
I blink, and the memory fades. My reflection stares back at me—auburn hair, violet eyes that should glow gold when my wolf surfaces. Except my wolf has never surfaced.
Twelve years I've lived with Uncle Dashiell. Twelve years of "helpful" reminders that I might be defective. That maybe I'm too human. That perhaps my parents' death broke something inside me.
Only one person has never made me feel broken.
Callister.
My heart warms thinking about him. Callister Vane, my uncle's son, my childhood best friend. He's two years older than me, already a powerful Alpha wolf with golden fur and strength that makes other wolves submit. He could have any she-wolf in the pack.
But when we were fourteen and twelve, sitting by the lake after another failed shifting attempt, he took my hand and made me a promise.
"When I become Alpha, I'll make you my chosen mate," he said, his amber eyes serious. "Wolf or no wolf, Rowena. You're mine forever."
I believed him. I still believe him.
That promise is the only thing keeping me from running away.
I turn from the mirror and grab my ceremony dress—a simple white gown that all unmated wolves wear. My fingers fumble with the zipper. Through my window, I can see hundreds of pack members streaming toward the ceremony grounds. The blood moon is rising, fat and red in the darkening sky.
Tonight. It has to be tonight.
I'm about to leave my room when my door slams open.
Seraphine Cortez fills the doorway, her copper hair perfect, her green eyes glittering with malice. She's wearing a golden dress that shows off her curves, and her wolf is so close to the surface that her eyes flash amber.
"Well, well," she purrs. "The wolfless wonder is actually going to show her face tonight."
I straighten my spine. "Get out of my room, Seraphine."
She laughs, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. "Why? Afraid I'll watch you fail again? Oh wait—everyone's going to watch you fail. That's the whole point of the ceremony, isn't it?"
Heat floods my cheeks, but I keep my voice steady. "I said get out."
"Did you really think Callister meant that childhood promise?" Seraphine moves closer, and I can smell her wolf—strong, healthy, everything mine should be. "He was being nice to his weird little cousin. But now he's twenty-one, about to become Alpha, and he needs a real mate. Someone powerful."
"Callister doesn't lie," I say, but my voice sounds weak even to my own ears.
"Everyone lies to spare feelings." Seraphine's smile is cruel. "Tonight everyone watches you fail again, and tomorrow, Callister will announce his real choice. Me." She leans in close, her breath hot on my face. "Callister deserves better than damaged goods. Better than a wolfless freak who couldn't even protect her own parents."
The words hit like a slap. My parents. She went there.
Rage floods through me—hot and bright and unfamiliar. For a second, something stirs deep in my chest. Something wild. Something that wants to rip Seraphine's throat out.
Then it's gone, leaving me shaking.
Seraphine sees my reaction and laughs. "Oh, did I make you angry? Going to shift and fight me?" She waits, mocking. "No? Nothing? That's what I thought."
She turns and walks out, leaving my door wide open.
I stand there, breathing hard, hands clenched into fists. The wild thing in my chest is still there, just barely. Waiting.
Please, I beg it silently. Please be real. Please be my wolf.
It doesn't answer.
I force myself to move, to leave my room, to walk downstairs. Uncle Dashiell is waiting by the front door, his silver hair gleaming. When he sees me, something flickers in his eyes—something that looks almost like... satisfaction?
"Ready, niece?" he asks.
"As I'll ever be."
He nods and opens the door. Together, we walk toward the ceremony grounds where hundreds of wolves wait under the blood moon. I can feel their eyes on me, hear their whispers.
Then I see him.
Callister stands near the front, tall and golden and perfect. When our eyes meet, he smiles—that same warm smile he's given me for years. My heart settles. Seraphine was lying. She has to be.
I'm almost to the ceremony circle when Callister's smile falters. He looks away.
My stomach drops.
No. No, no, no.
Uncle Dashiell leads me to the Moon Altar at the center of the gathering. The other unmated wolves—all younger than me—are already in position. I'm the last one. The oldest. The failure.
Dashiell raises his hands, and the crowd goes silent.
"Tonight, under the Awakening Moon, our young wolves will meet their beasts for the first time," he announces, his voice carrying across the grounds. "The Moon Goddess blesses those worthy of her gift."
Worthy. The word hangs in the air like an accusation.
One by one, the young wolves step forward. One by one, they shift—bones cracking, fur sprouting, howls piercing the night. The crowd cheers for each transformation.
Then it's my turn.
I walk to the altar on shaking legs. Every eye is on me. I can feel Callister watching. I can feel Seraphine's smug smile.
I stand before the blood moon and close my eyes.
Please. Please. I'm begging you.
Heat builds in my chest—the same wild thing from earlier, but stronger now. It claws at my ribs, demanding freedom. Pain rips through me, so intense I gasp.
This is it. This is—
The pain explodes.
I scream.
My bones are breaking, reforming. Fire races through my veins. Something inside me is tearing free, and it's agony and relief and terror all at once.
When I open my eyes, the world looks different. Sharper. Clearer. I'm lower to the ground.
I look down and see silver-white paws.
I shifted.
I actually shifted.
The crowd gasps. I did it! After nineteen years, I finally—
Then I feel it.
A golden thread snaps into place, connecting my heart to someone else's. The mate bond. It's pulling me, drawing me toward—
I turn my wolf's head, and my eyes lock with Callister's.
The bond blazes between us like lightning.
He's my fated mate.
The Moon Goddess chose us for each other, just like I always dreamed.
Joy explodes in my chest. I shift back to human, not caring that I'm naked in front of everyone. "Callister," I breathe, smiling through tears. "It's you. We're—"
His face twists with horror.
Not love. Not joy.
Horror.
"No," he says, his voice carrying across the silent crowd. "This is wrong."
The golden thread between us starts to hurt.
Uncle Dashiell steps forward, his expression unreadable. "The bond appears weak. Perhaps a mistake—"
"I, Callister Vane, future Alpha of this pack—" Callister's voice is loud, formal, final. His amber eyes meet mine, and they're cold. So cold. "—reject you, Rowena Hartwell, as my fated mate."
The bond doesn't just break.
It shatters.
I'm screaming before I even feel the pain.