LOGIN(Aria’s POV)
“I, Liam Blackwood, reject you—”
The bond snaps tight in my chest, then twists.
“I reject you,” he repeats, slower, like he wants there to be no confusion. “As my mate.”
The room goes dead silent.
Then the whispers start.
“He’s rejecting her?”
“Did I hear that right?”
“Of course he is. Look who it is.”
My fingers go numb.
Mates don’t do this.
They don’t.
Rejection is supposed to be a last-resort thing when the Goddess clearly made a mistake.
Not… this.
Not done like an announcement at a party.
My throat scrapes. “You—” My voice cracks. “Liam, you can’t—”
“I can,” he cuts in, eyes hard as stone. “And I am.”
My heart lurches like it’s trying to climb out of my chest. The bond that started to glow a second ago flickers violently.
I feel it tearing.
“You’re humiliating yourself,” he says flatly. “And my pack.”
The words hit harder than any physical blow.
Somewhere to my left, Mira makes a small, delighted sound.
The Alpha doesn’t interrupt.
No one steps in.
They’re letting him do this.
Liam takes a step toward me, power rolling off him. “You are weak, Aria. Wolfless. A liability.”
The pack hangs on every word like it’s some kind of sermon.
“Do you think the Moon Goddess cares about that?” I whisper. “She chose—”
“She made a mistake,” he says, right over me.
Gasps ripple through the hall.
Blasphemy.
Someone mutters, “Careful…”
Liam doesn’t flinch.
“Or she did it as a test,” he continues, voice cool. “To see if I would put my pack first. A Luna must be strong. Fearless. Capable of ripping out a throat if she has to.”
His gaze rakes over me.
The blue dress. The shaking hands. The girl who can’t even shift.
“You,” he says, “can’t even defend yourself.”
Heat claws up my neck, my ears, my face. My vision blurs.
“I’m trying,” I manage. “I’ve been trying my whole life.”
“That’s the problem,” he answers. “At eighteen, you shouldn’t still be trying. You should already be standing beside me as my equal. Not hiding behind other wolves.”
A low laugh comes from the crowd.
My lungs burn.
Mira glides forward, placing a hand on his arm, eyes wide in pretend concern. “Liam, maybe we shouldn’t—”
“Don’t.” His tone is sharp enough to cut. “I won’t lie to my pack.”
He lifts his chin, projecting his voice so everyone hears.
“I, Liam Blackwood, future Alpha of Nightfall Pack, reject you, Aria Hale, as my mate.”
The bond inside me tears.
Not a clean cut.
A savage, ripping pain that sears through my chest and back, like claws dragging down my heart.
My knees buckle. The tray falls from my hands, glasses shattering across the floor. Liquid splashes my legs, cold.
Somewhere, someone laughs.
I can’t breathe.
The rejection should ease the pain after a moment—that’s what I’ve heard. Once both wolves accept it, the bond dissolves.
But it doesn’t ease.
It grows.
Because he’s not done.
“I reject you,” he adds, “for the sake of my pack’s strength. I will not be bound to a weak mate.”
Every word is another twist of the knife.
I can feel my wolf—or whatever is trapped behind that mental door—slamming against it, enraged, wounded.
Let me out.
Let me out.
LET ME OUT—
Nothing opens.
Nothing helps.
“Say it,” Liam orders, eyes locked on mine. “Accept my rejection, Aria.”
My mouth is dry.
If I accept, the pain will stop.
If I accept, it’s over.
No mate. No bond. Nothing.
But the other option is worse.
Endless pain. A bond that pulls one way, never answered.
A life spent aching for someone who looks at me with disgust.
I swallow, tasting blood where I’ve bitten my tongue.
“Aria,” Aunt Lila hisses from somewhere behind me. “Do it.”
Do it.
Don’t embarrass us more.
I straighten my spine, even as my body shakes.
“I…” My voice splinters. I force it back together. “I, Aria Hale, accept your rejection.”
The words taste like glass.
The pain explodes.
For a second, I think I might actually die.
It’s like the bond is being yanked out of my chest by a hook, dragging heart, lungs, every piece of me with it. My vision goes white around the edges.
I hit the floor on my knees.
A sound rips out of me, half sob, half animal, raw and ugly.
Then, just as suddenly as it came, the pain goes quiet.
Not gone.
Not healed.
Just… numbed. Hollow.
Like someone scooped everything out of me and left an echo.
The hall comes back into focus in pieces.
The Beta looking away. Gamma Kane’s jaw tight, but he says nothing. Wolves whispering behind their hands, eyes bright with gossip.
“Wolfless and mate-less,” someone murmurs. “The Goddess really does have a sense of humor.”
Mira’s voice rises like honey laced with poison.
“Don’t worry, Aria,” she says sweetly. “I’m sure there’s some poor, desperate wolf out there who won’t mind taking you in. Eventually.”
She slips her arm through Liam’s.
He doesn’t look at me again.
The Alpha clears his throat, as if they’ve just finished a mildly awkward toast instead of publicly tearing my soul out.
“Tonight is still a night of celebration,” he announces. “The Moon has other plans for my son. For our pack. We move forward.”
Music starts up, too loud.
Wolves return to their drinks, their laughter.
Stepping around me like I’m a spilled drink on the floor.
I stare at the tiles.
My hands.
The glittering shards of glass.
This is it, then.
The great love story I secretly dreamed about in the dark when no one was watching.
Over in under three minutes.
Aunt Lila’s fingers clamp around my arm, yanking me up none too gently.
“Get up,” she mutters, lips tight. “You’re making us look pathetic.”
“I…” My tongue feels thick.
Her nails dig into my skin. “What did you expect? That the future Alpha would actually choose you? You should be grateful he did it now, before things got… complicated.”
Complicated meaning what? Before I moved into the Alpha House? Before we marked each other?
Before I got to be happy for more than half a heartbeat?
“I didn’t ask for this,” I whisper.
“I know,” she says, surprisingly soft for half a second. “That’s the problem.”
She releases me with a sharp exhale.
“The Alpha has made his decision,” she continues briskly. “And so have I. You can’t stay here.”
The words land like a second rejection.
“What?” My voice squeaks. “You’re my family.”
“I took you in for six years,” she says. “Fed you. Clothed you. Housed you while you contributed nothing. The pack talked. I defended you. But now…”
She glances around at the eyes on us.
“Now?” I rasp.
“Now you’re not just wolfless,” she says quietly. “You’re the girl the future Alpha rejected in front of everyone. Keeping you under my roof would make us a joke.”
My stomach drops into my shoes.
“You’re kicking me out,” I say slowly.
She doesn’t contradict me.
“The Alpha has already decreed it,” she says. “You’ll be escorted to the border at sunrise. It’s decided.”
My mind spins.
Border.
Alone.
No pack. No money. No job. No wolf.
“What am I supposed to do out there?” I ask, a small, hysterical laugh escaping. “Open a bakery with my personality?”
Her mouth twitches, but not with amusement.
“You’re young. You’ll figure it out. Humans live without packs all the time.”
“I’m not human,” I say, stung. “I’m—”
“What?” she asks sharply. “What are you, Aria?”
The answer dies on my tongue.
Silence stretches between us.
“Exactly,” she says. “Pack warriors will come for you at dawn. Don’t make a scene. You’ve humiliated yourself enough for one lifetime.”
She turns and walks away, already fussing with the table arrangements, as if my entire world hasn’t just shattered.
My legs move on autopilot.
I slip out the side door into the cool night air.
The forest smells the same as always—pine, earth, the faint tang of river—but it feels different now.
Smaller.
Colder.
I tip my head back.
The Moon is rising, full and bright, staring down at me with indifferent light.
“What was that?” I whisper. “A joke? A test? Do you just… hate me?”
A breeze lifts my curls.
No answer.
I wrap my arms around myself and sink down on the steps, the faint thud of music and laughter leaking through the walls behind me.
Inside, wolves are toasting to the future.
Outside, the girl they decided doesn’t belong anywhere sits under a sky that suddenly feels too big.
For a long time, I feel nothing.
Then, slowly, something else creeps in.
Not hope.
Not yet.
Anger.
It starts as a warm coil in my stomach, wrapping itself around the hollow space Liam left behind.
He rejected me like I was trash.
The pack nodded along.
My own aunt handed me to the border like a problem being returned to the manufacturer.
The worst part?
They all think the story ends here.
Aria Hale, wolfless orphan, rejected mate, vanishes quietly into the human world and is never spoken of again.
The coil of anger tightens.
“No,” I say softly.
The word hangs in the air, a tiny, stubborn thing.
“No,” I repeat. “You don’t get to break me and just… move on.”
My wolf stirs faintly behind the locked door.
A low, distant growl.
Finally.
“Where were you when I needed you?” I whisper.
Silence.
But the growl comes again, closer this time.
Not weak.
Not small.
Trapped.
Just like me.
I drag in a shaky breath and stand.
If they’re going to throw me away at dawn, fine.
But I’m not going to the border like a broken thing.
I’ll stand tall.
I’ll walk out of here on my own feet.
And one day, somehow, I will make every single person who laughed tonight regret it.
I just don’t know yet that my revenge starts with a stranger in a black car… and a last name that matches the man who shattered me.
The Grand Alpha Conclave opened at dawn.No horns announced it. No banners unfurled.The land itself bore witness.Stone pillars older than recorded history rose from the valley floor in a vast circle, etched with runes that glowed faintly beneath the morning light. This was not neutral ground. It was bound ground. Lies frayed here. Power answered honestly, even when its bearer wished otherwise.Aria felt it the moment she crossed the threshold.Her wolf stirred, not restless, but alert. Measuring. Listening.Around her, Alphas took their places, each standing within the boundary of their ancestral mark. Some radiated confidence. Others carried tension like a held breath. Damien remained just outside the circle, where Kings and Consorts were meant to stand. A visible line drawn for everyone watching.Whispers traveled anyway.“She stands alone.”“She has no crown.”“She has no pack.”Aria lifted her chin.Let them see that too.The Elder Arbiter stepped forward, his staff striking sto
The summons went out before dawn.Not by messenger. Not by decree nailed to stone.By instinct.Across territories stitched together by old blood and older magic, wolves lifted their heads as if tugged by an invisible thread. Alphas woke restless. Elders stirred from uneasy dreams. Pack bonds hummed with a low, unfamiliar urgency, like the earth itself shifting beneath ancestral claims.The Grand Alpha Conclave had been invoked.Aria stood on the eastern balcony as the sun crested the horizon, painting the mountains in copper and gold. The wind tugged at her hair, cool and sharp, carrying the scent of pine, ash, and distant rain. Somewhere far below, wolves howled. Not in challenge.In acknowledgment.She rested her hands on the stone railing, grounding herself, feeling the quiet pulse of the land beneath her palms. The mansion no longer felt like a place she was trespassing through. It responded to her now. Doors opened before she touched them. Flames steadied when she passed. Even t
The bowing ended the moment the doors closed.Stone groaned as the council chamber sealed behind them, ancient locks grinding into place, cutting off the murmurs, the politics, the fear masquerading as obedience. The sound echoed down the corridor like a verdict that had not yet finished being written.Aria exhaled.Only then did she realize how tightly she had been holding herself together.The hallway beyond the chamber was long and narrow, lit by iron sconces whose flames flickered uneasily, reacting to the residual power still clinging to her skin. Each step felt heavier than the last, as if the mansion itself were adjusting to her presence, recalibrating centuries of hierarchy around her heartbeat.Her wolf did not relax.If anything, it grew more alert.Damien walked beside her, close but not crowding, his presence a steady pressure at her back. Not shielding her from the world.Standing with her in it.“You held your ground,” he said quietly, eyes forward. “That matters more th
The council chamber had been carved long before Damien Blackwood was born.Long before his father had worn the crown. Long before Aria Hale had ever been whispered about in prophecy or bloodline records. The stone walls curved inward like the ribs of some ancient beast, etched with sigils meant to suppress magic and expose truth. Power hummed faintly in the air, old and watchful.Aria felt it the moment she stepped inside.Her wolf lifted her head.Not in fear.In recognition.Every eye in the chamber turned toward her.There were twelve council members seated in a half circle, each representing one of the elder packs, bloodlines that had survived wars, purges, and betrayals. Their expressions ranged from curiosity to thinly veiled hostility. Some radiated tightly controlled dominance. Others… unease.Damien walked at her side, close enough that she could feel the heat of him without touching. His presence pressed outward like a shield, an unspoken warning to anyone who thought to cha
Morning did not arrive gently.It crept in like a witness.Light spilled through the tall windows in pale ribbons, touching stone, silk, and skin with quiet insistence. Aria stirred as the warmth reached her, not fully awake yet, but aware of the solid presence at her back. Damien’s arm was draped around her waist, heavy and possessive, anchoring her as surely as the magic still humming faintly in her veins.She breathed in slowly.Him.Smoke and iron and something darker, older. Alpha. King. The scent wrapped around her senses, and her wolf responded instantly, stretching beneath her skin, alert and satisfied in a way that was new and dangerous all at once.Last night had not been a dream.The memory pulsed through her like an echo. The heat. The hunger. The way he had looked at her, as if the world had narrowed to just the space where she existed.Aria shifted slightly, testing the reality of it, and Damien reacted immediately.His arm tightened.A low sound rumbled from his chest,
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







