MasukThe lantern at Aria’s side burned low, casting shadows against the canvas walls. She dipped her cloth into the basin one last time, wringing out the blood-stained water until her fingers were wrinkled and numb. The world outside had long since gone still, only the faint crackle of a dying fire and the distant hoot of an owl breaking the silence.
Her body ached, her hands raw from endless work, but it wasn’t the fatigue that kept her from sleep. It was the laughter she’d overheard, the sneers still ringing in her ears. Weak. Worthless. Omega. They were the same words she had heard once before, the same words that had broken her beyond repair. Aria closed her eyes, her chest tightening as memory pressed against her. She tried to shove it back, to bury it where it belonged, but the past clawed its way free, demanding to be remembered. And so, with a shuddering breath, she let herself sink into the nightmare that had shaped her. It had been the night of her eighteenth birthday. The night everything had changed. The full moon had risen high, bathing the clearing in silver light. The entire pack had gathered, their voices raised in song and celebration. For Aria, the evening had been a whirlwind of nerves and anticipation. Because eighteen was the age when the mate bond revealed itself, when Fate’s choice was finally made known. Her heart had beat with wild hope. She’d always dreamed that somewhere out there, someone was waiting for her. Someone who would look at her and choose her—not because they had to, but because they wanted to. And then she had caught his scent. It was like the forest after rain, sharp and earthy, filling her senses until her knees nearly buckled. She had turned, wide-eyed, and there he was. Damian. The future Beta of the pack. Strong, broad-shouldered, his presence commanding even though he was barely older than she was. He had always walked past her without a glance, always surrounded by friends and admirers. But now his eyes locked on hers, glowing with the recognition of the bond. For a heartbeat, she couldn’t breathe. He’s my mate. Her chest had swelled with joy, with disbelief, with a thousand dreams that suddenly seemed within reach. She had stepped forward, trembling, her lips parting to whisper his name. But before she could, he laughed. The sound was sharp, cruel, cutting through the night like a blade. “Her?” he said, his voice carrying across the gathering. “Fate must be broken.” The crowd stirred, murmurs spreading. Aria froze, her smile fading, confusion crashing through her. Damian stepped closer, his eyes hard and cold. He looked her up and down as though she were something filthy clinging to his boots. “You expect me to claim this as my mate?” he sneered, gesturing toward her. “An Omega? No. I won’t.” The words struck like a physical blow. Aria’s breath caught, her throat tight, her heart pounding in her ears. “You can’t,” she whispered, desperate. “You can’t reject the bond—” But he could. And he did. “I reject you, Aria,” Damian declared, loud enough for all to hear. “I reject this bond, I reject Fate’s mistake, and I reject you. I deserve better than an Omega. I’ll never tie myself to someone so pathetic.” Gasps echoed around them. Some wolves looked shocked. Others laughed, as though it were entertainment. The sting of humiliation burned hot across Aria’s skin, hotter than fire, hotter than blood. “No…” Her voice cracked, barely audible. “Please…” Damian smirked, enjoying her desperation. “Look at her. Clinging already. Did you really think anyone would want you? Fate must’ve been drunk to pair me with you.” The pack roared with laughter. Some whispered behind their hands. Others didn’t bother to hide their smirks. Tears blurred Aria’s vision, but she forced herself to stand tall. “You don’t mean this,” she said, her voice trembling but stubborn. “The bond—it’s real. You feel it. I know you do.” For a fleeting second, she saw it in his eyes—the flicker of something, the same pull that she felt, undeniable and raw. But he smothered it quickly, his expression twisting into disdain. “I feel disgust,” he spat. “And shame that Fate thought I belonged with you.” Then he turned his back on her. Just like that, the thread of the bond snapped, tearing something deep within her soul. Pain exploded through her chest, white-hot, suffocating. She staggered, clutching at her heart as though she could hold the pieces together. But she couldn’t. Damian walked away without a backward glance, leaving her in the center of the circle, broken and alone while the pack watched. That was the night Aria’s world ended. The night her hope was crushed beneath laughter and rejection. The night she stopped believing in Fate. Back in the tent, Aria’s eyes snapped open, her breaths coming quick and shallow. The memory clung to her like chains, dragging her deeper into the ache she had never escaped. Even now, years later, the wound hadn’t healed. She still felt the phantom pain of the bond tearing, the echo of Damian’s cruel words in her ears. She pressed her hands to her face, her shoulders shaking. But no tears fell. She had cried them all out long ago, until nothing was left but numbness and anger. They said the mate bond was sacred. That it was unbreakable, that Fate never made mistakes. But what about her? If the bond was sacred, why had it shattered her? If Fate never made mistakes, why had it cursed her with rejection? The questions gnawed at her, night after night, until her faith was gone. Maybe she was a mistake. Maybe she was meant to suffer. But another voice whispered inside her, stubborn and fierce: Or maybe you are meant for something more. Aria drew a shaky breath, lowering her hands. She looked at the lantern’s flame, small but steady, refusing to die even as the oil dwindled. That was what she would be. No matter how many sneers or rejections she faced, she would not extinguish. She would burn, even if only as the faintest spark, until the day she proved them all wrong. “Damian may have rejected me,” she whispered to the empty tent, her voice raw but steady, “but I will not reject myself. Not anymore.” Her words trembled in the silence, but once spoken, they felt real. And for the first time since that night, Aria allowed herself to believe—just a little—that Fate’s cruelty wasn’t the end of her story.Years had passed since that golden day when Crescent Fang had celebrated the dawn of a new era. Seasons had turned, storms had come and gone, and through it all, the pack had flourished under the guidance of Aria and Kaelen. The trees along the riverbank were taller now, their roots deeply entwined with the fertile earth, and the valleys echoed with the laughter and song of a pack that had grown stronger and closer with each passing year.The moon hung low and luminous over the Crescent Fang territory, casting silver light that rippled across the forest floor and the river’s gentle surface. Aria stood at the edge of a small clearing, her hair catching the moonlight like strands of spun silver. Her gown, simple yet elegant, flowed around her ankles as she breathed in the cool night air. The serenity of the moment wrapped around her like a comforting cloak, a stark contrast to the chaos and uncertainty that had once defined her early days as Luna.Kaelen approached silently, his footste
The dawn broke over the Crescent Fang territory with a brilliance that seemed almost orchestrated by the heavens themselves. Light spilled over the dense forest canopy, painting the rolling hills and the tranquil river in hues of gold and rose. Aria stood on the edge of the ceremonial grounds, her hand resting lightly on the curve of her belly, feeling the subtle but undeniable stirrings of life growing inside her. She could still remember the moments from the night before—the coronation, the vows, Kaelen’s whispered promises that had dripped with a devotion so deep it made her heart ache. It was a night of transformation, not only for her but for the entire pack.The pack had been roused early, the first faint stirrings of excitement like a wave rolling through the community. Wolves of every rank, shape, and age emerged from their homes, their scents mingling in the crisp morning air. There was a sense of electricity, a pulse that thrummed beneath the surface, almost visible in the w
The moon still hung in the sky when Aria awoke, though its brightness had softened into a pearly haze, a lingering echo of the previous night’s ceremony. The chamber around her felt warm, filled with lazy shafts of early morning light that filtered through the sheer curtains. She lay tangled in silken sheets, her body humming with the memory of Kaelen’s touch, his vows, his fierce devotion. Every inch of her seemed alive—softened, warmed, treasured.Her fingers brushed the side of the bed where he should have been, but the space was empty. A faint laugh drifted from the balcony.She rose slowly, slipping on a loose white robe before stepping outside.Kaelen leaned against the stone railing, the first sunlight painting his bare torso in gold. His dark hair fell messily across his forehead, and when he saw her, his smile shifted into something that made her heart flutter uncontrollably.“My Luna,” he murmured.She rolled her eyes, stepping into his arms. “You’ve been calling me that for
The morning began quietly—almost deceptively so. A soft mist curled over the training fields, glistening silver beneath the pale caress of dawn. Birds chattered in the high pines, oblivious to the scars still healing across the realm. Aria stood near the edge of the forest, her hands sunk into the damp earth as she guided a group of young wolves through grounding exercises. They mimicked her movements with earnest concentration, some wobbling, some overly dramatic, all trying to master their balance.She laughed softly when one pup toppled sideways into a bush.“You’re improving,” she assured him as she helped brush leaves out of his hair. “Remember—strength is steadiness first, power second.”He beamed at her, proud despite the mishap.Teaching had become a balm for her in these slow months after the war. The world was mending, bit by bit. The land healed, the wolves healed, and even her heart—so battered, so reshaped by prophecy and death and rebirth—found a strange new rhythm.The
The days after Aria’s ascension felt unreal, as if the world had forgotten how to breathe. The war drums fell silent, leaving only the sound of wind moving through the ravaged forest, brushing over broken branches and scorched earth like gentle fingers tracing the outline of old wounds. Peace had arrived, but it did not feel soft. It felt earned, carved from suffering, shaped by choices that had pushed Aria and her pack to the edge of oblivion.Aria walked through the recovering village with a steadiness that surprised even her. Every step carried a ripple of power—gentle, luminous, unmistakable. Her aura had settled but not vanished. It shimmered faintly in the air around her, like moonlight draped across her skin. Wolves bowed instinctively when she passed. Elders inclined their heads, no longer from doubt or manipulation, but from reverence. Children peeked at her from behind their parents’ legs, whispering “Blessed Luna” in voices that trembled with awe rather than fear.She smile
For a moment that stretched into eternity, the world stood still around Aria’s lifeless body. The battlefield—once a roaring tempest of claws, steel, witchfire, and blood—fell into a suffocating silence, as if even the wind dared not disturb the stillness of death. Kaelen remained on his knees, cradling her in his arms, his breath shuddering through the raw wreckage of his rage and grief. His tears slipped down his cheeks in silent streams, falling onto her pale skin.He rocked her gently, whispering her name as if repetition alone could pull her back. “Aria… Aria, please… come home to me.”But she didn’t stir.Her body, once radiant with Luna light, lay still like a vessel emptied of its soul.And the Blood Moon above pulsed brighter—an ominous, blood-red heartbeat—casting its cruel glow over the battlefield.The pack stood frozen. Warriors who had fought with unyielding ferocity now stared in shattered disbelief. Some whimpered. Some covered their muzzles. Some bowed their heads, un







