Chapter 4: The Rejection

Rhiannon's POV

The world stopped.

"I choose Isolde Ravenclaw," Darius said, his voice carrying across the silent square. "Daughter of the Northern Alliance. Our union will strengthen the pack and secure our future."

No.

The word screamed in my head, but no sound came out. My lungs had forgotten how to work. My heart had forgotten how to beat.

This wasn't real. This couldn't be real.

The crowd erupted in applause. Wolves howled their approval. I watched—detached, floating somewhere outside my body—as Isolde stepped onto the platform. She was impossibly beautiful in that moonlight gown, every inch the perfect Luna.

She smiled at Darius.

He didn't smile back.

But he took her hand. Raised it high for the pack to see.

More cheers. More howls. The sound was deafening.

I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't process what I was seeing.

He promised. Last night he promised. He said—

Someone laughed nearby. Then another. The sound rippled through the crowd like poison.

"Did she actually think—"

"Poor little orphan—"

"Wolfless trash believed the Alpha wanted her—"

The words cut through my shock. I looked around wildly and saw them—dozens of faces, all watching me. Some with pity. Most with cruel amusement.

They knew. They'd all known I'd been hoping. Waiting.

And now they were watching me break.

"Move along, girl," someone muttered, pushing past me. "Show's over."

More laughter. Louder now.

My legs moved without conscious thought. I had to get closer. Had to see his face. Had to understand—

I pushed through the crowd, stumbling. Someone's foot caught mine. I nearly fell but caught myself, kept moving.

"Rhiannon, don't—" I didn't see who'd spoken. Didn't care.

I broke through to the front, into the open space before the platform.

Darius stood above me, Isolde's hand still in his. His father was beaming. The elders were nodding approval.

"Darius!" His name tore from my throat.

The square went silent again. Every eye turned to me.

Darius looked down. Our eyes met.

And I felt it.

Something snapping into place in my chest—golden, blazing, perfect. The mate bond. Real and undeniable and right. It burst through me like sunlight, warm and overwhelming and—

Shattering.

The golden thread fractured before it could fully form. Splintering into a thousand pieces. Each one tearing through me like broken glass.

I gasped, my knees buckling. Pain exploded through my chest—white-hot, consuming, worse than anything I'd ever imagined. It felt like someone had reached into my ribcage and ripped out my heart.

The bond. The mate bond I'd never felt before because my wolf had never surfaced. It had finally appeared—

Just in time to be destroyed.

"No," I choked out, pressing my hand to my chest. "No, no, no—"

Darius stared down at me, his face carved from stone.

He'd felt it too. I could see it in his eyes—the recognition, the bond snapping into place.

He'd felt it, and he was doing this anyway.

"Darius, please—" I couldn't stop the words, couldn't stop the tears streaming down my face. "You promised. Last night you promised—"

Murmurs swept through the crowd. Scandalous. Shameful.

"Last night?" someone whispered.

"The orphan and the Alpha?"

"How dare she—"

Darius's father stepped forward, his expression thunderous. But Darius held up a hand, stopping him.

He descended the platform steps slowly. Deliberately.

Each step he took toward me felt like another shard of glass in my chest.

He stopped three feet away. Close enough that I could smell him—pine and earth and the scent that had meant safety. Love.

His eyes were cold. Empty.

"Rhiannon Ashwood."

His voice was formal. Distant. Like he was addressing a stranger.

Like I'd never been beneath him, gasping his name. Like he'd never whispered promises against my skin.

"Darius, please," I whispered. "Don't do this. You said—"

"I, Darius Nightshade, Alpha of Crescent Moon—"

"No!" I lunged forward, reaching for him. "Stop, please, just let me—"

Two warriors grabbed my arms, holding me back. I struggled, but they were too strong.

Darius didn't even flinch.

"—reject you as my mate."

The bond shattered completely.

I screamed.

The pain was beyond anything I'd thought possible. Beyond physical. Beyond emotional. It was everything, all at once—my soul being torn in half, my heart being carved out with a dull knife, every dream and hope and promise turning to ash.

I felt it die. Felt the golden thread that should have connected us dissolve into nothing.

My legs gave out. Only the warriors' grip on my arms kept me upright.

The crowd was roaring now. Laughter. Jeers. Cruel, vicious sounds that barely registered through the agony.

"Run along, little orphan!"

"Did you really think you were special?"

"Pathetic—"

Through my tears, I saw Darius turn away. Back toward the platform. Back toward Isolde, who watched with cool satisfaction.

Like I was nothing.

Like I'd never been anything.

I ran.

Tore free of the warriors' grip and ran, my vision blurred with tears, the crowd's laughter chasing me like hounds.

Into the forest. Away from the square. Away from him.

Away from the man who'd just destroyed me in front of everyone.

The last thing I heard before the trees swallowed me was his voice, cold and final:

"I reject you, Rhiannon Ashwood."

And then there was only pain.