Chapter 1

The heavy oak doors of the pack house creaked as Celine Wolverine shoved them open with her shoulder, balancing a tray loaded with dirty breakfast dishes. The scent of fried bacon and fresh bread still hung thick in the air, but it did nothing to loosen the knot twisting in her stomach. Another morning, another round of pretending she belonged here at all.

  "Watch it, wolfless," a sharp voice snapped from behind her. Celine tensed, nearly dropping the whole tray as Lila brushed past, her shoulder slamming into Celine's hard enough to send a plate crashing to the floor. Porcelain shattered across the stone tiles, and a couple of warriors lounging near the long dining table let out low chuckles.

  Lila flipped her dark curls over one shoulder, lips twisting into that same nasty smirk she always wore. She was only a year older, but in the eyes of the pack, the gap between them might as well have been a mile wide. Lila's father was the gamma, which put her damn near the top of the food chain. Celine's father? Just a beta who acted like she barely existed most days.

  "Sorry," Celine muttered, dropping to her knees to gather the pieces. A shard sliced her finger, and she hissed at the sharp sting. Blood welled up quick and bright against her skin.

  "Sorry doesn't fix the mess, does it?" Lila planted her hands on her hips, her fitted riding clothes hugging every curve that made the unmated males around here stupid. "You'd think after eighteen years you'd know your place by now. Oh, wait, tomorrow's your big day, right? The mating ceremony. Good luck with that."

  Celine kept her eyes down, sweeping the broken bits into her apron. She could feel the stares boring into her back, some pitying, most just entertained. In the Silvermoon Pack, strength ruled everything. Most wolves shifted by thirteen or fourteen, their animals strong and sure. But Celine? She'd hit eighteen tomorrow and still couldn't call forth even a single claw. The pack doctor called it delayed. Everyone else just called it worthless.

  "Leave her alone, Lila," one of the younger warriors said, though he didn't sound like he cared much either way. "She's just doing her chores."

  Lila laughed, the sound bouncing off the high wooden beams. "Chores? Cleaning up after actual wolves? Please. If it wasn't for Uncle Wolverine, she'd be rotting out in the servant quarters where she belongs." She leaned in closer, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "Maybe tomorrow the Moon Goddess will finally do everyone a favor and show what I've known all along, you're not one of us."

  With that, Lila sauntered off toward the training fields, her laugh trailing behind like a slap. Celine finished cleaning up, her hands steady even while her chest squeezed tight. She'd heard worse. Lived through worse. But tomorrow... tomorrow was supposed to be different. The annual mating ceremony under the full moon wasn't just some old tradition. It was when bonds clicked into place, when wolves recognized their mates by scent and that deep, instinctive pull. For years, Celine had clung to the quiet dream of feeling it. Of finally fitting somewhere.

  She hauled the tray back to the kitchens, ignoring the sympathetic glance old Martha shot her from the stoves. The head cook had slipped her extra bread more than once, but kindness here came quiet and careful. Drawing attention was never smart.

  The pack house hummed with restless energy as she worked through the morning. Servants scrubbed down tables, warriors sparred out in the courtyard visible through the tall windows, and the rich smells of pine and damp earth drifted in from the open doors. Silvermoon territory ran for miles thick forests, rocky ridges, and the wide river that carved out their borders. It was beautiful, if you weren't stuck inside scrubbing surfaces that never stayed clean for long.

  By midday her back burned from hauling laundry and polishing the silver. Her father, Beta Wolverine, had passed her in the hall earlier without so much as a nod, his broad shoulders rigid under his formal jacket. He was always like that, distant, disappointed. Her mother had died when Celine was seven, killed in a rogue attack on the border. After that, it was like her father had shoved all his grief into a box and nailed it shut, along with any warmth he might've shown his daughter. "Toughen up," he'd grunt on the rare nights he said more than two words. "The pack doesn't carry dead weight."

  Celine wiped sweat from her forehead and slipped out the side door to the small herb garden behind the kitchens. It was her one real refuge, tucked away where most wolves didn't bother wandering. She knelt among the mint and lavender, fingers brushing the leaves as she pulled in slow, calming breaths.

  "Tomorrow," she whispered to the plants. The word felt heavy, like it might crush her if she said it too loud. Eighteen. The age when things were supposed to fall into place. Her wolf would come, if the Moon Goddess had any mercy. She'd catch her mate's scent maybe one of the steadier warriors, someone decent who wouldn't mind a late bloomer. They'd make a life. She'd prove she wasn't broken.

  A rustle in the bushes made her go still. For a heartbeat, hope flared hot in her chest. *Shift. Please.* But nothing. Just a rabbit bolting away, spooked by her movement.

  She sat back on her heels, staring at her ordinary hands. No claws. No rush of power. The other wolves her age had been running the woods in fur and fang for years, their howls cutting through the night. Celine only had the dreams vivid ones where she raced with them, strong and free. Waking up always hit like a punch to the gut.

  "Still hiding out here?"

  Celine glanced up. Sara, the closest thing she had to a friend, leaned against the garden fence. Sara was a lower omega, practical and scarred from a bad training fall, with a no-nonsense way about her that Celine appreciated.

  "Just catching my breath before the afternoon chaos," Celine said, managing a small smile. "Heard anything new about the ceremony?"

  Sara shrugged, plucking a leaf and spinning it between her fingers. "Same as always. Alpha Kai's expected to pick someone strong this year. Talks with the Riverfang Pack are shaky, so everyone's saying he'll go for a gamma's daughter or higher. Lila's been parading around like she's already got the bond locked down."

  Of course she had. Celine's cousin had turned making her life hell into a personal sport. Family blood didn't mean equal treatment once weakness showed. Lila's wolf was a sleek, dominant thing that ruled the female training rings.

  Celine stood, brushing dirt from her plain gray dress. "Kai's... intense. But fair, right? Maybe the moon will straighten it all out."

  Sara gave her a look, half pity, half warning. "Don't build it up too much, Celine. Some of us aren't built for the spotlight. We survive in the shadows."

  The words landed like stones, but Celine nodded anyway. Sara wasn't trying to be cruel. As the sun dipped lower, stretching long shadows across the garden, they headed back inside. The pack house had grown louder, with preparations for tomorrow's feast already in full swing. Tables were draped in dark cloths, lanterns hung, and wooden moon symbols carved for the altar. The air crackled with anticipation that made Celine's skin itch.

  That night, after her fingers pruned from scrubbing endless pots, Celine retreated to her cramped room in the servants' wing. It wasn't much, just a narrow bed, a cracked mirror on the wall, and a small window looking out toward the forest edge. She perched on the mattress, gazing at the rising moon through the glass.

  *Please,* she thought, eyes closed tight. Let me shift. Let me feel something real. Just once.

  A faint warmth flickered deep in her chest, like a breath against her ribs. Wishful thinking, probably. She touched the small pendant at her throat, her mother's silver crescent moon on a thin chain. The only piece of her left.

  Tomorrow would arrive no matter what. The mating ceremony. Her chance to finally prove she wasn't worthless. As sleep pulled at her, Celine held onto that thin thread of hope like it was the only thing keeping her from drowning.

  She had no idea the moon had other plans ones that would rip her world apart and drag her somewhere she never expected.