Chapter 1: The Rejection

The bond snapped before the words finished leaving his mouth.

I felt it—a tearing, a ripping of something rooted so deep inside my chest that I forgot how to breathe. One second, I was whole. The next, I was hollow.

"I, Jason, Alpha of the Silver Creek Pack, reject you, Elara, as my mate and Luna."

The words echoed across the clearing. Every wolf in the pack was watching. I could feel their eyes on my skin, their silence pressing against me like a physical weight.

Jason stood at the center, his hand wrapped around Olivia's. She was smiling. Actually smiling, like she had won something. Her blonde hair caught the moonlight, and I hated how perfect she looked standing next to him.

I waited for the pain to make me cry. It didn't. Instead, something cold settled in my stomach. Something that felt almost like relief.

"Is that all?" My voice came out steady. I didn't recognize it.

Jason blinked. "What?"

I straightened my spine. The broken bond was still screaming inside me, but I pushed it down, buried it beneath the anger that was starting to burn hotter than the hurt.

"You heard me." I looked at him—really looked at him. The boy I had grown up with. The Alpha I had loved since I was fourteen years old. "Is that all you have to say to me?"

Olivia stepped forward, her chin lifted. "He doesn't owe you anything, Elara. You were never good enough for him. Everyone knows it."

I laughed. The sound was sharp and ugly, and it made her flinch.

"You're welcome to him," I said. "Both of you deserve each other."

I turned my back on them. On all of them. The pack parted as I walked through, and I didn't look at any of their faces. I didn't want to see pity. I didn't want to see satisfaction. I just wanted to get to my room before my legs gave out.

The walk to the packhouse took four minutes. I counted every step. The moment I closed my door, I let myself fall against it, sliding down until I was sitting on the cold floor.

Then I let myself feel it.

The bond was gone. Not just rejected—gone. Jason had cut it clean. There was nothing left to salvage. I pressed my hand to my chest and felt the absence like a missing limb. My wolf stirred inside me, confused and hurt, whining softly.

He didn't want us, I told her. But we don't need him.

I don't know how long I sat there. When I finally stood, my legs were numb. I pulled a duffel bag from under my bed and started throwing things inside. Clothes. My mother's necklace. The old photo of my parents. A knife I had hidden in my drawer since I was sixteen.

I didn't pack much. I didn't need much.

The packhouse was quiet when I slipped out the back door. The moon was high now, silver light spilling across the training grounds. I had spent ten years of my life on those grounds. Learning to fight. Learning to survive. Learning to be strong enough for a pack that had never really wanted me.

I didn't look back.

The border was three miles away. I walked it in the dark, my boots crunching against frozen leaves. The cut on my arm from a low branch had started bleeding, but I barely noticed. The physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest.

When I reached the river that marked the edge of Silver Creek territory, I stopped.

Across the water, the trees were thicker. Darker. That was Blackwood territory. Everyone knew the Blackwood pack was dangerous. Ruthless. Their Alpha had a reputation that made even Jason's father nervous.

I stepped into the river.

The water was freezing, soaking through my jeans, numbing my legs. I waded across, my bag held above my head. When I reached the other side, I collapsed onto the bank, gasping.

That's when I felt it.

A presence. Heavy. Watching.

I looked up.

He was standing at the edge of the trees, half-hidden in shadow. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair that fell across his forehead. His eyes caught the moonlight, and for a second, I thought I imagined the gold flashing in them.

He stepped forward, and the shadows fell away.

Alpha Kael of Blackwood. I had seen him once, years ago, at a council meeting. He had been younger then. Less terrifying.

He was terrifying now.

He crossed the distance between us in three long strides. I tried to stand, but my legs wouldn't cooperate. He knelt in front of me, his gaze dropping to the blood on my arm, the tears I hadn't realized were on my face.

His hand came up, fingers brushing my cheek.

"Mine," he growled. "And I will destroy anyone who touched you."