Outcast’s judgement

Varyn”. I said

And suddenly the tent feels too small. My breath burns. Outside, voices rise sharp with anger.

Outlaws:

“She carries their blood.”

“Her mother drove us out.”

“Her lover hunts us still.”

The Alpha lifts his hand. The noise dies. His eyes hold me.

Alpha : “You admit your lineage. You do not hide your mother’s name. Then tell me—why come here? Why seek shelter among those she cast into exile?”

My throat tightens. I want to say I didn’t choose this blood. I didn’t choose Varyn. But I did choose him. Again and again.

Me: “I seek only to survive.”

Murmurs ripple outside. Pity in some voices. Rage in most.

The Alpha leans forward.

Alpha : “And the child you carry? Will it not grow cruel, as its bloodline is cruel?”

My hands press against my stomach.

Me: “No. This pup will not be what they are.”

For a breath, his face shifts—not soft, but weighing.

The crowd pounds against the tent. Shouts press closer.

Outlaw: “Decide, Alpha Why should she live?”

The Alpha rises, shadow filling the space.

Alpha : “Because sometimes the child of ruin becomes the spark of rebellion. Or the weapon that destroys us all.”

The outlaws erupt. Some cry for blood. Others for mercy. The sound shakes the ground.

The Alpha lifts his hand. Silence slams down. His eyes stay on me.

Alpha: “You want shelter? Then earn it.”

My heart stutters.

Me: “How?”

He steps closer, voice hard as stone.

Wolf-king : “Tonight, you face the Trial of Teeth.”

Gasps ripple outside. My stomach twists. I know for sure it means blood.

Alpha : “Survive, and you may stay. Fail, and the earth will claim what your mother should have taken long ago.”

The crowd roars again. My knees weaken. My pulse drums in my ears.

The Alpha voice cuts through everything.

Alpha: “Prepare yourself. Before the full moon, your fate will be decided by you and only you.”

The wait before midnight was as much a terror , because day went on so fast and the time was now .

The tent flaps fly open. Hands drag me into the night. The roar of the outlaws crashes over me.

Above it all, the pale moon rises, waiting to decide my fate.

The moon climbs higher, silver spilling across the camp. Fire snaps, smoke drifting into the night.

Alpha: “The Trial of Teeth begins.”

A gate slams open. The beast lurches into the firelight—scarred, patch-furred, its teeth jagged as hooks.

Whispers:

“A devourer.”

“They starved it.”

“It won’t last an hour.”

The creature snarls. My chest tightens.

Alpha: “Survive until the moon peaks. Nothing more, nothing less.”

It lunges. I throw myself aside, dirt scraping my skin. My breath rips out sharp. Blood spills when its claws catch my arm. Pain sears, hot and blinding.

The beast roars, but then stops. Its gaze fixes on my stomach.

Whispers:

“Why does it hesitate?”

“Does it smell the pup?”

“No beast spares prey.”

The fire hisses. The moon climbs higher, glowing full before midnight. The camp stills. One by one, the she-wolves without hesitation fall to their knees

Lost in admiration of how much the full moon always matters to the she-wolves

Not until more move in my direction to bow directly to me .

Me: “Why… why are you bowing?”

She-Wolf: “all bow to the one true born Luna”.

I stuttered: wait wait wait

But she batted her eyes:You carry the mark of a Luna by birth.”

With tone that meant no joke

I shake my head.

Me: “No. You’re wrong. The Varyn rejected me. The only one who could make me Luna cast me aside.”

She-Wolf: “The moon outranks every Alpha.”

Me: “My mother abandoned me. She called me nothing. How could the Goddess call me anything more?”

Turning to the wolf king, his eyes as though he knew the outcome,like is expecting it

And he steps forward, voice heavy as stone rapped with wonder.

Alpha : “The moon has decided . Not man. Not mother. Not me.”

I stagger back, blood dripping, heart racing.

Me: “No. It isn’t possible.”

He walk towards me, every steps drawn near felt like a stop to my heart.”

My name is Rauth

May I ?”.

As he takes my hand

Let me tend to your injury.

He first tends to my injured shoulder, his hands steady, careful, lingering just long enough to make my skin tingle. Every movement is deliberate, protective, quietly tender.

The next day, he makes a conscious effort to be near me—standing a little closer, offering words of comfort, brushing imaginary specks from my sleeves, finding reasons to meet my eyes. Each gesture is subtle, yet obvious: a man clearly drawn to the woman before him, taking careful, patient steps to make his feelings known.

I give it no thought, no consideration. All I hear is the same lie and empty promises Varyn once fed me, all to claim my body. I say to myself twice: Forsaken will kill me. And yet, each day, I picture what a ravaging test Rauth will be.