Fated To Mate

Since childhood, Kael had been taught that the idea of a fated mate was nothing more than a romanticized curse. His parents drilled it into him that such bonds were not gifts, but traps, designed by the Moon Goddess herself to control the most powerful among their kind.

“Fated mates are weaknesses, Kael,” his father had once said, voice cold and certain. “Never make the mistake of accepting them, because they make even the strongest alphas fall.”

To drive the lesson home, they told him the tragic tale of two powerful Alphas, one was alpha Greg and the other was her great grandfather

Alpha Greg once a revered leader, strong, fearless, and unmatched in battle. But all of that changed the day his mate got taken by rogues. He moved heaven and earth to find her, launched countless raids, and spilled rivers of blood to bring her home. Yet in the end, it wasn’t enough. They killed her right in front of him. And that was when the real horror began.

Grief twisted Greg into something unrecognizable. He turned on his own pack, blinded by fury and sorrow. Friends, warriors, even family, none were spared. By the time he regained a shred of sanity, nearly half his pack lay dead. And in a final, heart-wrenching act of despair, the once-great alpha ripped out his own heart and ended his misery.

The remnants of his territory now lie in ruins, nothing but scorched earth and broken bones, a haven for the very rogues who had destroyed it.

This was the tales Kael grew up with. This was the legacy burned into his mind. To want a mate was to invite destruction.

And so, for the longest time, Kael believed he didn’t need one at all.

In the Shadow Moon Pack, the ancient ritual of seeking and waiting for one’s fated mate was long abolished. It was not a forgotten tradition, but one deliberately buried and banned by decree of Alpha David Berleville, the current head of the Berleville bloodline and direct descendant of the legendary Alpha Riftan Berleville.

David hadn’t made the decision lightly. It stemmed from history, his family’s history, marked by betrayal, obsession, and bloodshed.

He had grown up to see the tragic end of his parents. Alpha Riftan Berleville had once been the pride of the werewolf world: powerful, proud, and seemingly untouchable. He led with unmatched strength and ruled over one of the largest territories during an era when peace was fragile, and dominance was everything.

His mate, Sarah, was said to be a vision, so breathtakingly beautiful, she was often called the Moon’s Envy. Her presence alone sparked envy from every corner. And though Riftan had claimed her fully, the desire she stirred in others never faded.

Alphas from neighboring packs, even allies, began to covet what was not theirs. They saw Sarah not only as a prize but a power to be seized. Offers were made, veiled threats were whispered, and when persuasion failed, war broke out.

The jealousy was so fierce, so consuming, that it ignited an era of endless conflict. The enemies rose but Riftan crushed them. His strength was legendary, and his love for Sarah was unshakable. The more the packs failed, the more determined they became.

The were-council tried to intervene, calling for peace, but their efforts barely held. The bloodshed only paused, never ended. Eventually, the opposing alphas came to a brutal conclusion: Riftan must fall.

They believed that by eliminating him, they could claim his power, his lands, and most of all, his mate. However, no matter how cunning their plots or how vast their armies, none of the rival alphas could defeat Riftan. His power was simply unmatched, unyielding, like a force of nature. For years, they fought, conspired, and struck from the shadows, yet everytime, Riftan emerged victorious.

Eventually, they uncovered one truth they had long overlooked: Riftan’s strength wasn’t entirely his own. It was Sarah's too.

The bond between them, forged by the Moon Goddess herself, had become more than symbolic. A fated mate was more than a partner, they were the missing half of a soul. And once the soul was whole, it became something immortal, untouchable. Riftan’s power was amplified by Sarah’s presence. Her nearness fueled his resolve, sharpened his senses, and magnified his strength. United, they were unstoppable.

So, the strategy changed.

If they could not defeat him in battle, they would separate him from the source of his power.

Among the rival alphas, one in particular burned with a poisonous envy. His name was lost to time, but his obsession was not. Though he already had a mate of his own, he became consumed with the desire to possess Sarah. Her beauty, her grace, the very idea of her belonging to someone else, especially someone like Riftan, was unbearable.

He tried diplomacy. He tried blackmail. He tried sorcery. And when all else failed, he chose destruction.

In a final act of cowardice, he enlisted human hunters, mercenaries with no respect for the old laws, no fear of the Moon Goddess. He pointed them toward Sarah and whispered promises of wealth. What he couldn’t have, no one would.

The hunters struck swiftly, without warning. And Sarah, despite all her strength and grace, was mortal, she was fatally wounded when Riftan was away but died before he got back home.

The moment Riften felt his connection to her breaking, something inside him shattered.

The mighty alpha, once feared across every border, fell into ruin. He stopped leading. Stopped speaking. He barely ate, and when he did, it was only to drown himself in wine and grief. His once-proud howl was never heard again. Some say he sat for days beside her grave, whispering apologies to the earth.

He did not die in battle. He died slowly, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the alpha the world had once known.

It was his son who eventually stepped forward, David Berleville, still young, but with a fire in his eyes not born of pride, but pain.

David had seen firsthand the cost of that belief. He grew up amidst the ashes of a golden age that turned into a cautionary tale. His father’s mind never fully recovered, and his mother’s presence faded into ghost stories told around dying fires. He took up the mantle of Alpha not out of desire, but necessity. And from that moment on, he ruled with a different vision. One carved not from dreams of power, but from a promise never to repeat his father’s fate.

He outlawed the search for fated mates, branding them not as blessings, but as vulnerabilities.

For him, and for the Shadow Moon Pack, love was not sacred. Love was dangerous. And never again would the Shadow Moon Pack allow a mate to be its downfall.

Upon taking over the pack, Alpha David Berleville wasted no time in solidifying his rule, not just through strength, but through fear, order, and painful sacrifice.

There would be no searching for fated mates. No rituals. No ceremonies. Love, he said, could be chosen, controlled. Because when love was destined, it could also be used as a weapon.

One of his first and most controversial decrees was absolute and final:

“If any member of this pack finds their fated mate, they are to reject each other immediately and find another to mate with or face execution.”

To David, this was not cruelty. It was survival. A mate, he believed, was a flaw in one’s armor, a vulnerability that could be used to bring even the strongest to ruin. He had lived through the aftermath of his father’s collapse. He had seen the blood-stained walls of the once-mighty Berleville stronghold. And he would never allow history to repeat itself.

At first, the pack was unsettled. Many whispered in the shadows, questioning his rule, unable to imagine rejecting what the Moon Goddess had destined for them. A few even dared to rebel, some tried to leave in secret, hoping to escape to packs with more merciful laws. But none succeeded.

Alpha David always found them, then he would drag them back to the heart of the pack grounds, where all could see. And without hesitation or mercy, would executed them publicly, marking their deaths as a warning. “Let this be a lesson,” he would say coldly. “A pack survives through strength, not sentiment.”

Over time, resistance faded.

Fear settled deep into the bones of every member, and soon, no one dared question the alpha’s law again. Fated mates became a myth best left unspoken. Any strange bond or magnetic connection was buried, denied, and forgotten. Love became a choice, a calculated, controlled act for the sake of continuity.

And David practiced what he preached. When he found his fated mate, the bond struck him like lightning, overwhelming, undeniable. She was radiant, everything he had ever imagined and more. But he didn’t hesitate.

With the entire pack watching, he looked her in the eyes and rejected her.

Her expression, some say, haunted him for years. Others believe he felt nothing at all.

He later took another woman, one of strength and political advantage, as his chosen mate and produced heirs through that union. But the story of his rejected mate lived on in hushed tones and broken hearts, a silent reminder of the price he demanded of them all.

To the Shadow Moon Pack, love was not destiny. It was a risk.

And Alpha David had taught them what risks were worth dying for, and which ones weren’t.

Perhaps it was the weight of Alpha David's law, the cruelty of it, the way it silenced the very concept of soul bonds that something in the world shifted. Over time, stories of fated mates began to dwindle. Not just within the Shadow Moon Pack, but across other territories as well. It was as if the Moon Goddess herself had turned her face away, or perhaps she’d grown weary of watching her gifts rejected and slaughtered in the name of power.

Regardless of the cause, fated mates became increasingly rare, their existence dismissed as ancient folklore rather than divine reality.

Still, David ensured the tradition he began would live on.

When his only son, Rodrick, was just ten, he chose a female for him, a strong, obedient girl from a trusted family, trained to be a perfect Luna. There would be no uncertainty, no room for the chaos of unexpected bonds. And when Rodrick turned eighteen, he marked her publicly. Her name was Veronica, and she became Luna of the Shadow Moon Pack.

Rodrick ruled with the same cold efficiency as his father, ensuring the law remained untouched. But he took things a step further, refining the practice of arranged matings into a full political strategy.

When his own son, Kael, was born, Rodrick wasted no time to forged a powerful alliance by betrothing Kael to the daughter of an allied alpha, an ambitious, battle-hardened she-wolf named Erica. Not only would their union strengthen the pack’s bloodline, but it would also guarantee military and territorial support in the years to come.

Kael didn’t protest.

If anything, he admired the legacy he was born into. He had been raised on stories of Alpha Riftan’s tragic downfall, Alpha David’s ruthless reforms, and the price of sentiment. To him, love was unnecessary, a distraction that only existed in dusty legends. Power was what mattered.

Besides, fated mates were rare now, practically extinct, so why waste time chasing a myth?

So, Kael accepted his fate with pride. He trained for leadership, prepared for his arranged union, and never once imagined that destiny might have other plans.