Chapter 1 Hunter and Tara

The Cruel Truth

Tara pov

The autumn moon hung heavy in the sky, casting silver shadows across the Silverstone Pack's territory as wolves gathered for the monthly pack meeting. I stood at the edge of the clearing, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged bird desperate for freedom. Tonight was my eighteenth birthday—the night I would finally scent my mate if the Moon Goddess had blessed me with one.

I smoothed my hands over my simple blue dress, suddenly self-conscious among the other she-wolves who wore their finest clothes. As the daughter of a mid-ranking warrior, I had never been one to draw attention to myself. I preferred the shadows, the quiet corners where I could observe without being observed. But tonight, everything would change.

The scent hit me like lightning.

Pine and leather, with an undertone of something wild and dangerous. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin, recognizing what my human mind could barely comprehend. *Mate.* The word echoed through every fiber of my being, ancient and undeniable.

My eyes swept the crowd frantically until they landed on him—Hunter Blackwood, the Alpha's son and heir to the Silverstone Pack. He stood near the front of the gathering, his imposing six-foot-three frame commanding attention even in stillness. Dark hair fell across his forehead, and his steel-gray eyes surveyed the pack with the calculating gaze of a born leader.

Our eyes met across the clearing, and I watched his nostrils flare as my scent reached him. For one heart-stopping moment, recognition flashed in his gaze—primal, intense, undeniable. The mate bond snapped into place between them like a golden thread, binding our souls together in the way of our kind.

But instead of the joy I had dreamed of, instead of the rush toward each other that every mated pair experienced, Hunter's expression hardened into something cold and distant. His jaw clenched, and he deliberately turned away from me.

My stomach dropped. Around me, pack members began to notice the tension, the electric energy that always accompanied a new mating. Whispers rippled through the crowd as they followed Hunter's previous gaze to where I stood, frozen in shock and growing dread.

Alpha Marcus Blackwood called for attention, his commanding voice silencing the murmurs. "Tonight, we celebrate not only our monthly gathering but also the eighteenth birthday of Tara McKenzie." His weathered face smiled in my direction. "May the Moon Goddess bless you with your mate, young one."

The irony of his words cut through me like a blade. I had been blessed—and cursed—in the same moment.

"Actually, Father," Hunter's voice rang out across the clearing, clear and cold as winter steel, "I believe the Moon Goddess has already made her will known."

Every eye turned to the future Alpha, and I felt the weight of their collective stare. My legs trembled beneath me, but I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but watch in horror as Hunter stepped forward.

"The scent is unmistakable," he continued, his voice carrying to every corner of the gathering. "Tara McKenzie is my mate."

Gasps and excited whispers erupted from the pack. This should have been a moment of celebration—the future Alpha finding his Luna. But Hunter's tone held no warmth, no joy, only a detached acknowledgment of fact.

"However," he said, and that single word fell like an executioner's axe, "I reject this bond."

The clearing fell deathly silent. Even the night creatures seemed to pause in shock at his pronouncement. I felt the world tilt beneath my feet, my vision blurring at the edges.

"Hunter," Alpha Marcus's voice held a warning, confusion creeping into his authoritative tone.

But Hunter pressed on, his gray eyes finding mine across the distance between us. I saw something flicker in their depths—pain, perhaps, or regret—but it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it.

"I, Hunter Blackwood, future Alpha of the Silverstone Pack, reject you, Tara McKenzie, as my mate and future Luna." The formal words of rejection carried the weight of ancient law, each syllable driving deeper into my heart like shards of ice. "You are not strong enough, not worthy enough, to stand beside me as I lead this pack. We need a Luna who can command respect, who comes from a bloodline of leaders. You are the daughter of a mere warrior—adequate for the pack, but insufficient for its future."

The cruelty of his words hit me like physical blows. Around the clearing, pack members stared in shock and growing discomfort. Some looked away, unable to witness such public humiliation. Others watched with the morbid fascination of those witnessing a train wreck.

My father, James, stepped forward from where he stood with the other warriors, his face flushed with anger and shame. "Alpha," he addressed Marcus, not trusting himself to speak directly to Hunter, "my daughter has served this pack faithfully. She may not be of Alpha blood, but she is loyal and true."

"Loyalty isn't enough," Hunter replied, his voice cutting through my father's attempt to intervene. "The Silverstone Pack faces threats from rogues, challenges from neighboring packs who question our strength. I need a mate who enhances our position, not one who weakens it through her common blood."

Each word was chosen to wound, delivered with surgical precision. I felt the mate bond writhing in agony between us, the golden thread that should have bound them in love instead becoming a source of excruciating pain.

"The rejection must be accepted," Hunter continued relentlessly, "or the bond will continue to cause us both suffering. Accept it, Tara. Accept that you are not meant for this life."

Finally, I found my voice, though it came out barely above a whisper. "Why?" The single word carried all my anguish, my confusion, my desperate need to understand. "If we're mates, if the Moon Goddess chose us for each other, why are you fighting it?"

For just a moment, Hunter's composure cracked. I saw the war raging behind his eyes, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides. But then the mask slammed back into place, and when he spoke, his voice was devoid of all emotion.

"Because sometimes we must choose duty over desire. Sometimes we must sacrifice our own wants for the greater good of the pack." His gray eyes bored into mine. "I will not be weak. I will not allow sentiment to compromise the future of Silverstone."

The rejection hung in the air between us like a toxic cloud. Pack law demanded that I respond, that I either accept the rejection and sever the bond cleanly, or fight for my right as his mate. But how could I fight someone who saw me as nothing more than an obstacle to overcome?

Tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, tracking silver paths down my cheeks in the moonlight. Around me, I could feel the pack's mixture of pity, embarrassment, and relief that they weren't in my position.

"I..." I began, then stopped, the words catching in my throat. To accept the rejection would free them both from the pain of an unwanted bond, but it would also mean acknowledging that I truly was as worthless as he'd made me out to be.

Hunter waited, his expression carved from stone, while the entire pack held its collective breath. The autumn wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the scent of coming winter and the promise of change.

In that moment, standing before the pack that had raised me, facing the mate who'd thrown me away like garbage, I made a decision that would alter the course of my life forever. It will hurt like a bitch but I can't force him to want me.

But what that decision would be, and how it would echo through both our lives, remained to be seen.