LOGINOn her eighteenth birthday, Aria Hale finally feels her wolf stir… just in time to attend the mating ceremony where the Moon Goddess will reveal her destined mate. She has spent her whole life as the pack’s weakest link—her wolf sealed, her power mocked, her future uncertain. But one touch will change everything. When her eyes meet those of Liam Blackwood, the cruel, golden future Alpha of Nightfall Pack, the bond snaps into place. He is her fated mate. Her miracle. Her salvation. And he rejects her on the spot. Humiliated, heartbroken, and banished, Aria thinks her story ends there… until a black car stops on the edge of the territory and the man inside offers her a choice. Damien Blackwood. Liam’s older brother. Cold. Untouchable. A billionaire who left the pack years ago—and the only wolf Liam has ever feared. “Come with me,” Damien says. “I’ll give you a home, protection… and a chance to become strong enough that they will all kneel.” Under his roof, Aria’s “weak” wolf begins to awaken. Dark secrets unravel. And the truth emerges: she is not just any wolf. She is a hidden Omega Queen. When danger threatens the pack that rejected her, Liam comes crawling back, begging for a second chance. But Aria is no longer the powerless girl he threw away. She must choose: the mate who broke her or the brother who rebuilt her—and the throne the Moon Goddess always meant for her to claim.
View MoreMy wolf is supposed to wake up today.
That’s what everyone keeps saying.
“She’ll feel it by sunset,” the healer muttered this morning, pressing cold fingers to my wrist. “If the Moon Goddess hasn’t completely forgotten her.”
Very reassuring.
Now I’m standing in the middle of the Nightfall Pack’s training grounds, bare-armed in the chill evening air, with a hundred wolves circling like they’re waiting to watch me fail.
Again.
“Shift, Aria,” Beta Rowan calls out, bored. He’s seen this show before. “Close your eyes. Reach for your wolf. Same as always.”
Same as always means: absolutely nothing happens.
I suck in a breath.
Close my eyes.
Reach.
In my mind, there should be a pulse. A spark. A presence brushing against my thoughts.
For eighteen years, all I’ve felt is a locked door.
I will reach for it again now.
My heart pounds. My palms sweat. Somewhere nearby, someone snickers.
“Maybe the Moon Goddess wants a refund,” a girl whispers.
Laughter ripples through the crowd.
I grit my teeth and push harder, imagining claws bursting from my fingers, fur racing across my skin, bones reshaping into something powerful.
Come on.
Please.
Anything.
A headache blooms behind my eyes. The door in my mind stays closed.
I get… a faint tingle in my spine. Like static. Then it’s gone.
Useless.
“Nothing,” Rowan announces to the crowd, as if I’m not standing right here. “Again.”
“I almost felt something,” I protested, opening my eyes. “Just now. A flicker.”
From the edge of the ring, a familiar voice cuts through the noise, smooth and lazy.
“That’s what she said the last three years,” Mira drawls. “And she still can’t even grow a single fang.”
More laughter.
Mira’s dark hair is braided in intricate loops, her body lean and strong in a fitted training top. Future Luna material, everyone says. Powerful bloodline. Early shifter. Full control.
Everything I’m not.
I roll my shoulders back, forcing myself to meet her gaze.
“One more time,” I tell Rowan.
He sighs like I’m wasting the entire pack’s oxygen. “Fine. Last time. Then you need to get ready.”
Right. The ceremony.
My stomach flips.
The mating ceremony starts in less than two hours.
I’m turning eighteen tonight.
The age when a wolf finally feels the pull of their fated mate. When the bond snaps into place and you just know.
At least, that’s what I’ve heard.
Personally, I’ve never felt a single thing from my so-called wolf, let alone some magical bond from the Moon Goddess.
But a tiny, pathetic part of me still hopes.
Maybe I’ll never shift.
Maybe I’ll be the pack’s shame forever.
But if I at least have a mate… maybe that will mean the Goddess didn’t completely abandon me.
“One more time,” I repeat, closing my eyes.
The ground is cold under my bare feet. The scent of pine and damp earth fills my lungs. I tune out the whispers, the bets being placed on whether I’ll faint again, the low, amused chuckle I know belongs to Mira’s current favorite, a warrior who once called me “human with extra steps.”
I reach inward.
Door. Lock. Darkness.
I press my palms against it, not with fear this time, but with fury. During the years of training I wasn’t allowed to join. At the pitying glances. By the way my own parents stopped meeting my eyes when I turned sixteen and still couldn’t shift.
“Open,” I whisper in my head. “Just once. Just give me something.”
The air hums.
Heat flashes along my spine.
For a heartbeat, I feel it, a presence, ancient and furious, pacing behind the door. Not small. Not weak. A low growl rolls through my mind, so powerful I gasp.
“There,” I choke out. “She’s there… I can feel her”
Then the lock slams back into place.
The presence vanishes.
I stumble forward, grabbing my head as pain lances through it.
The crowd’s reaction isn’t awe.
Rowan makes a note on his clipboard. “No visible shift. No partial manifestation. Again, nothing.”
“I said I felt—”
“She always says she felt something,” Mira interrupts sweetly. “It’s cute that she still believes it.”
My cheeks burn.
Rowan waves a dismissive hand. “Enough. Go. Clean up. Your aunt wants you at the hall early to help with decorations.”
Because if I can’t fight, the least I can do is hang fairy lights for the real wolves.
“Happy birthday, wolfless,” someone calls as I push through the crowd.
“Maybe your mate will be human,” another voice adds. “Then he won’t be disappointed when you can’t shift. Just… disappointed in everything else.”
The laughter follows me all the way back to the pack house.
I don’t cry.
I did enough of that at sixteen.
Now, I just feel… tired.
Tired of wanting something that clearly doesn’t want me.
Tired of pretending I can’t hear the whispers.
Tired of being Aria Hale, the girl the Moon Goddess forgot to finish.
I slip through the back door of the house, weaving through the chaos of the kitchen. Omegas rush around carrying trays, shouting about late deliveries and burned bread. My aunt Lila stands in the middle, directing everyone with military precision.
“There you are,” she snaps when she spots me. “You’re late. Again.”
“Training ran long,” I say.
She looks me up and down, taking in the sweat, the dirt, the failure.
“And? Did your wolf finally appear like a birthday surprise?”
I open my mouth.
Close it.
Her expression softens just a fraction. “Never mind. Go shower. Put on the blue dress. It’s the only one that makes you look remotely put together. The Alpha wants everything perfect tonight. If you embarrass us…”
She doesn’t finish the sentence.
She doesn’t need to.
“I won’t,” I say quietly.
I hurry upstairs to the tiny room at the end of the corridor that passes for my bedroom. It used to be a storage closet. When my parents died in a rogue attack when I was twelve, the pack took me in.
Pack, in this case, meaning my mother’s older sister.
Aunt Lila kept the inheritance money “for my future” and gave me the smallest room.
Some future.
I lock the door behind me, slump against it, and exhale.
In the cracked mirror above my dresser, a girl stares back at me.
Dark curls escaping their tie. Honey-brown skin smudged with dirt. Faint circles under her eyes from too many late nights washing dishes after everyone else is done celebrating.
Her eyes, though… for a second, they shimmer gold.
I blink.
The shimmer disappears.
“See?” I tell my reflection. “You’re hallucinating now. Great.”
Still, my heart beats faster.
I felt something on the field. I did.
A presence. A growl. A pressure so strong it scared me.
If my wolf is sealed, like some of the elders whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear… sealed doesn’t mean gone.
The seal can be broken.
I shove the thought aside before hope can sink its claws in.
Hope is dangerous.
Hope makes you think maybe tonight, at the ceremony, someone’s eyes will meet yours and light will explode in your chest and—
No.
I strip quickly and step into the shower, letting lukewarm water beat against my skin until my muscles stop trembling.
When I’m done, I pull on the blue dress. It’s simple but pretty, hugging my waist and flaring at my hips. Aunt Lila might complain, but she knows how to dress people. The color makes my eyes look brighter, my skin warmer.
By the time I make it down to the grand hall, the sun is starting to sink, painting the forest in gold.
The hall is already buzzing.
Fairy lights strung across the ceiling. White cloth draped along the walls. Tables set with simple flowers. Wolves in their finest clothes, laughing, flirting, buzzing with nerves.
Tonight, the Moon will rise full.
Tonight, I’ll stand in a circle with every other eighteen-year-old and wait to see if anyone looks at me and feels the bond snap tight.
Maybe no one will.
Maybe I’ll stand there and watch everyone else be claimed while I remain unchosen, unwanted.
I swallow hard and carry a tray of drinks across the room, pretending my heart isn’t trying to beat its way out of my chest.
Then the door at the far end opens.
The room goes quiet in a wave.
He walks in like he owns the floor, the walls, the air.
Liam Blackwood.
Future Alpha of Nightfall Pack.
Tall, broad shoulders, dark hair pushed back carelessly, eyes the color of a storm over the mountains. Power rolls off him in waves, thick and heavy, pressing against my skin.
He’s flanked by his Beta and Gamma, both strong, both dangerous.
And right behind him, Mira glides in like she’s already Luna, smiling sharp as a blade.
“Liam looks insane tonight,” one of the girls near me whispers. “If the Moon Goddess gives him to me, I’ll never complain again.”
“He’s not going to end up with anyone weak,” another answers. “He needs a warrior. A real she-wolf. Not some—”
Her gaze flicks to me and slides away with a smirk.
I lower my eyes, gripping the tray tighter.
The Alpha stands, raising a hand for silence.
“My son,” he says proudly, “comes of age tonight. The Moon has blessed this pack richly. I know she will continue to do so.”
Cheers, howls, clinking glasses.
Liam’s gaze scans the crowd, expression unreadable.
I tell myself he’s not looking at me.
Why would he?
I’m background noise in his world.
Just as the thought crosses my mind, his eyes land on mine.
Everything stops.
Sound cuts out.
The tray slips in my hands.
A force slams into my chest, hot and electric, racing through every vein.
My lungs seize. My knees wobble.
The bond.
I feel it.
I feel it.
The air between us crackles, thick with something ancient and undeniable. My heart screams his name. My body leans forward without my permission.
Liam’s eyes widen, just a fraction.
We both know.
Mate.
The word explodes inside me, wild and bright.
The Moon Goddess didn’t forget me.
She gave me him.
For one brief, impossible moment, joy floods me so hard I forget every insult, every training failure, every night I cried into my pillow.
Then Liam’s jaw clenches.
His eyes harden.
In front of the entire pack, he takes one step forward, looks straight at me, and his lips curl in disgust.
“I,” Liam Blackwood says clearly, voice carrying to every corner of the room, “reject you—”
And the world crashes down around me.
The mansion was silent now, the chaos of battle replaced by the soft crackle of the fire Damien had relit in the private wing. The scent of smoke and scorched earth lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the warmth of their shared exhaustion. Aria leaned against the edge of the hearth, still catching her breath, hair damp with sweat and dust, silver light faintly shimmering along her skin from the battle.Her wolf stirred beneath her, coiling, rolling, impatient, and hungry. She had tasted power tonight, felt it surge through her veins with every spell, every strike, every glance from Damien. And now… the tension between them, the fire that had been simmering since her rejection and his secret protection, was impossible to ignore.“You fought brilliantly,” Damien said, voice low and husky as he entered the room, eyes fixed on her. He didn’t just see her; he felt her—the pull, the heat, the wolf uncoiling beneath her skin. “Stronger than I expected. Stronger than I’ve ever seen.”Ari
The night air outside the mansion was sharp and electric, buzzing with anticipation. Somewhere far beyond the walls, the Ashen Circle was moving, silent and deadly, their red eyes like sparks in the darkness. Aria stood on the balcony, silver hair catching the moonlight, her wolf coiling beneath her skin like a living, restless thing.Damien appeared behind her, silent as a shadow, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off him. He leaned against the railing, gaze sweeping the horizon, alert, vigilant—but there was a softness in his posture, a quiet heat reserved only for her.“They’re coming,” she said quietly, though she didn’t need to. Her wolf whispered the truth anyway.“I know,” Damien replied, voice low and controlled. “And when they do, they’ll regret waking the Queen.”Her pulse quickened. Not just from fear. From the electricity of his presence. Every inch of her body recognized the danger he carried—and the desire.“Damien…” she murmured, turning toward him.
The mansion had never felt smaller. Or hotter.Aria paced the private wing, the soft crackle of the hearth echoing her thoughts. The fire cast long, jagged shadows across the walls, dancing like wolves in the dark. Every instinct she had screamed that the Ashen Circle would strike again—but tonight, for the first time in years, she didn’t feel powerless.Her wolf prowled under her skin, bristling and alert. Not for danger, exactly. For him.Damien leaned against the stone archway, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. His black-and-gold aura pulsed quietly, power restrained, deliberate. Watching her. Testing her. Protecting her, but not caging her.“You’re restless,” he said softly.“I’m thinking,” Aria replied, stopping abruptly. “About them. About what they want. About—everything.”“You think too much,” Damien said, stepping closer, the air between them vibrating with barely controlled energy. “Your wolf feels it. I feel it. I can feel it, Aria.”Her breath hitched. “Feel
The room felt smaller once the doors closed.Not because of walls or stone or the dim, amber light cast by the lamps, but because Damien was still standing close enough that Aria could feel him breathe.Not rushed.Not uncertain.Contained, the way a storm contains rain before it breaks.Neither of them moved.The maps lay forgotten on the table behind them, wards humming softly, ancient symbols pulsing like they knew exactly what was happening and chose not to interfere.Aria’s heartbeat was loud in her ears.She had faced death. Councils. Prophecies. Power that bent stone and history alike.This felt more dangerous.“You should be resting,” Damien said at last, his voice steady but lower than before.Aria tilted her head. “Is that an order?”A corner of his mouth lifted. “No.”Good, her wolf murmured. Because I wouldn’t listen.The admission sent a ripple of heat through her body that had nothing to do with magic.Damien’s gaze dropped, tracking the subtle change in her posture, the












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