Chapter 2: Claimed What Is Mine

Alpha Kieran POV

I'm Alpha Kieran Darkmoor, and I do not share.

For years, the mating games have been a thing of reoccurrence. Every year, unmated she-wolves and omegas were gathered in one place, for fated bonds to manifest with whoever will choose them as mates. 

Every year, Lyra attended, hoping, no, foolishly believing that the Moon Goddess had crafted someone for her.

But I ensured that never happened. 

No one can have her when she is already mine. She was already mine, created and craved for me and to my taste.

She doesn’t know she's my mate, but it's not her fault; she's wolfless 

She thought she was unlucky, cursed. Each time she left the mating games alone, I watched her. The frustration in her eyes always made me feel her loneliness. Lyra was stubborn, but she never questioned why no one ever claimed her. 

She remained alone, untouched and unclaimed. And I knew that she would stay that way, until I decided otherwise.

But this year was different, she did not attend, perhaps she had finally given up as she thought no one wanted her. She is always disappointed when she leaves the mating ceremony every year.

I should have let it be. I should have been satisfied, knowing no man would ever have her. But the thought of her absence unsettled me. The mating games had become a ritual where I indulged in my cruel possessiveness, and without her here, something felt…wrong.

So wrong that I just wanted the ceremony to be over soon. 

I always look forward to this day, but today was different without her.

She-wolves stood in the clearing, some eager, some, waiting to be chosen. I prowled through the crowd, ignoring the way they averted their gazes, knowing better than to meet my eyes.

Then I saw her. Lyra. She was standing at the corner but immediately our eyes met, in fear, she bowed low, unable to meet my gaze like always. 

I always love the fear in her eyes but not today. Everything about her just seemed so off, like she had finally given in to let fate take its course.

Her eyes remained fixed on the ground, her expression unreadable. I could sense her resignation, her acceptance of what fate had in store for her and that she would be alone. 

But I knew the truth; she was not alone, she was mine, and I would never let anyone else claim her.

The courtyard of the Blackfang Pack was filled with every ranked member of my Pack. And then, at the edges, stood the omegas.

They barely lifted their heads, their eyes cast downward, bodies stiff as if bracing for yet another night of rejection. I noticed a few had stayed near the courtyard entrance, as though prepared to slip away before the humiliation could fully take hold on them as usual. Amongst them was Lyra. She had no expectations tonight as usual.

I took a step forward, my eyes sweeping across the gathered wolves, and the murmurs died instantly. Silence fell absolutely.

“The mating ceremony,” I began, my voice firm carrying waves through the courtyard, “is not just a tradition. It is a necessity. Through these bonds, we strengthen our Pack, our bloodlines, and our future.”

A few approving nods from the higher ranks. The omegas remained motionless.

“Each of you stands here tonight,” I continued, my gaze cutting across the crowd, “with the chance to claim what is yours. The mate chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. Whether you stand as a warrior, a hunter, or an omega, your value is measured by your loyalty, your strength, and your place within this Pack.”

Some of the lower-ranked wolves straightened ever so slightly, as if the mere thought of acknowledgment gave them the right to hope.

Then, I turned to where Lord Ulric Duskbane stood. He was an older wolf and a high-ranking council member. 

“Lord Ulric,” I said, “you will oversee the ceremony.”

He inclined his head respectfully before stepping forward, his hands clasped behind his back as he addressed the crowd.

“Tonight, the selection will proceed in the traditional manner,” he announced. “Wolves will come forward, state their claim, and the bond will be tested. Any disputes will be settled accordingly.”

His sharp gaze swept the ranks, second longer on the warriors before he continued.

“The ranked wolves will have first selection,” he stated, his voice smooth, measured. “Followed by the hunters, then the enforcers. Finally, should there be no claims among the higher ranks, the omegas will be given the opportunity to find their match.”

I watched as the first wolf stepped forward. A warrior, broad-shouldered, his eyes locking onto a female among the ranked wolves and stated his claim. The female hesitated for only a moment before stepping toward him. 

The pattern continued, wolves stepping forward, taking what they believed was theirs. Some matches were immediate, the pull of the mate bond undeniable. Others ended in rejection, sending murmurs through the crowd as the rejected ones turned away in quiet humiliation.

But my eyes kept drifting towards Lyra.

Lyra and a few others remained, untouched by the ceremony’s excitement. Unlike the others, she did not even feign interest. She stood, arms crossed over her chest, her messy hair falling in loose waves around her face. 

As the final few warriors stepped forward, Ulric glanced toward the lower ranks.

“If there are no further claims among the higher ranks,” he said, his voice steady, “then we will proceed to the next phase.”

A long pause was heard. No one moved.

The hunters shifted uneasily, their eyes darting toward the omegas. I saw the way some of them looked away just as quickly, unwilling to take that step. It was the same every year.

I exhaled slowly, my gaze settling on Lyra once more. There was no disappointment on her face, only the quiet acceptance of someone who had been through this before.

I have claimed What Is Mine.

She is my Lyra and I have cl

aimed her even without her knowledge.

She has no choice, she is made just for me.