Moon-Marked and Mated

Ainsley

The forest always felt different at dawn—quieter, softer, like the world held its breath just long enough for me to pretend I was normal.

Not the Alpha’s daughter.

Not the soon-to-be-eighteen-year-old girl with a whole pack waiting to see who the Moon would chain her life to.

Just Ainsley.

My feet hit the packed dirt trail in a steady rhythm, cool air biting at my cheeks as I pushed myself harder up the incline. Running cleared my head. It always had. My wolf hummed beneath my skin, alert and powerful, settling into the pace like she’d been born for it.

We were, really.

Second-born. Not destined to lead, not expected to carry the pack on my shoulders—that was my brother Kieran’s path. At Nineteen, he was calm under pressure, already acting like the Alpha he’d soon be. Yet he still hadn’t found his mate, despite his visits to all allied packs.

The whole pack whispered about it. Quietly, respectfully, but they whispered.

Which is exactly why my father was currently planning the largest eighteenth birthday the Silver Shadow Pack had ever thrown. I’d heard him on the phone last night—three different alphas, two distant allies, and a regional council representative at least would be attending.

All for me.

Or rather, for my mate. Whoever he ended up being.

I tried not to think about that part too much.

Because what if the Moon paired me with someone who didn’t want me the way I was? Someone who saw “Luna” and expected polished perfection—heels, designer clothes, smiling pretty, hosting pack teas like a trophy on display?

That wasn’t me.

Never had been.

I liked my hoodies worn and my jeans ripped. I liked training until my muscles burned. I liked the quiet satisfaction of learning healing techniques from the packs top doctor Mari after school, memorizing herbs, pressure points, and early intervention techniques that would help save lives in battle. I liked purpose.

The wrong mate could take that from me.

The thought made my stomach curl, and my wolf bristled in agreement.

We won’t be caged.

She always said it with such certainty. I wasn’t convinced.

By the time I reached the ridge overlooking pack territory, the sun had finally broken through the clouds, casting golden light onto the rooftops of home. Cars were already pulling out from the houses below—pack members heading to work or school. Normal life.

My phone buzzed in the pocket of my running tights. I groaned.

Probably Dad again. He’d been hovering lately, trying too hard not to show how worried he was about the idea of my mate being from a rival pack, a pack with outdated views about women, or worse his fear that I also wouldn’t find my mate and people would start to question what was wrong with his bloodline.

I checked the screen.

KIERAN:

Where are you? Dad’s looking for you. Something about the party.

I rolled my eyes and typed back:

AINS:

Running. Tell him to chill.

Three dots appeared.

Disappeared.

Reappeared.

KIERAN:

He’s not going to chill. You’re his only daughter and he’s stressing about fifty alphas showing up to sniff you out.

I snorted. “Great phrasing, Kieran,” I muttered under my breath.

Before I could reply, another message came through.

KIERAN:

Also… he’s proud of you. But he’s in that overprotective “my baby girl” mode. Good luck.

I sighed, turning toward home.

My birthday was three days away.

Three days until everything changed—whether I was ready or not.

My wolf lifted her head, sharp and alert, as if she sensed a shift in the wind.

He’s out there, she whispered.

I swallowed hard.

And for the first time, I wondered—not for the pack, not for tradition, not even for my father—but for me…

What if finding him cost me everything I wanted?