Elara Voss—no, not Voss anymore. She had shed that name the day her fated mate, Beta Ronan of the Ironclaw Pack, stood before the entire pack and declared:
"I, Ronan Hale, reject you, Elara Voss, as my mate and Luna. You are weak. Broken. Unworthy."
The words burned worse than silver. She had loved him quietly, fiercely, since they were pups. But her wolf had never fully awakened after a childhood attack left scars across her back and spirit. Ronan saw only failure. The pack saw shame.
So she ran. Rogue life suited her: solitary, proud, surviving on instinct alone. Three years had hardened her. No more tears. No more begging.
Tonight, she crossed into forbidden territory—Shadowfang lands—chased by hunters from her old pack who wanted her dead. Ironclaw left no loose ends.
She stumbled into a moonlit clearing, breath ragged, silver knife clutched in her hand. The full moon pulled at her dormant wolf, making her skin tingle, her heart pound.
Then she felt it.
A pull. Sharp. Relentless. Searing through her chest like chains snapping taut.
Her wolf stirred, claws raking at her ribs. No. Not again.
A shadow detached from the trees—massive, lethal, eyes glowing crimson-gold in the moonlight.
Kael Voss stepped into the clearing. Black cloak billowing, dark hair falling across a face carved from marble and fury. He was taller than any shifter she had ever seen, built like a weapon, radiating power that made the air thicken.
His nostrils flared. He scented her.
The bond ignited like wildfire.
Mate.
Elara's knees buckled. Her wolf—silent for years—howled inside her skull, clawing to surface.
Kael's expression twisted from shock to disgust.
"You," he snarled, voice velvet over steel. "A rogue. A rejected stray. The Moon Goddess has a cruel sense of humor."
Elara forced herself upright, knife raised. "Stay back. I want nothing from you."
His laugh was cold, echoing through the clearing. "Nothing? The bond begs to differ, little wolf." He stepped closer, deliberate. Each heartbeat pounded between them. "Do you feel it? It screams in my blood. My wolf wants to claim. My vampire wants to devour."
He stopped inches away. Up close, she saw the torment in his eyes—rage, hunger, and something almost… afraid.
"I am Kael Voss, Alpha King of Shadowfang. Hybrid. Cursed. And I do not need a mate—least of all one already discarded like trash."
Elara lifted her chin, pride flaring despite the fear. "Then reject me. Say the words. I've heard them before. They don't kill you the second time."
His hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist—gentle enough not to bruise, yet unyielding. Lightning shot through her, and he hissed, eyes flashing crimson.
"I should," he murmured, rough voice low. "I could end this now. Snap your neck and be done with the weakness."
But he didn't.
Instead, he leaned in, nose brushing her hair, inhaling deeply. "Yet here you are, in my territory. Trespassing. Challenging me."
His grip tightened. "Run, little rejected one. Run far. Because if the bond takes hold… I will break you before you break me."
Elara yanked free, heart pounding. "I don't run from monsters anymore. I fight them."
She bolted into the trees.
Behind her, Kael's roar shook the night—wolf and vampire in perfect, tortured harmony.
The hunt had begun.