The pull of the Moon

**Chapter 2 — The Pull of the Moon**

The night of the full moon always carried an unspoken weight in the Moonshadow Pack.

Even the air felt different — sharper, sweeter, as if each breath was laced with something intoxicating. Wolves who were normally disciplined twitched with restless energy. Laughter rang louder, tempers flared quicker, and every eye seemed brighter under the silver light spilling from above.

The entire pack had gathered in the open clearing, the ceremonial fire blazing at the center. The scent of roasted meat and spiced wine mingled with the wild, earthy perfume of the forest beyond the borders. Above us, the moon hung low and swollen, bathing everything in its ghostly glow.

I stood at the edge of the grounds, clutching a tray of goblets filled with the elder’s spiced wine. My fingers itched with the urge to smooth my hair, but I didn’t dare draw attention to myself. Servants weren’t supposed to be noticed. We were shadows — silent, quick, forgettable.

I told myself I didn’t care. That I’d survive the night like every other, by keeping my head down and doing my job.

But then I felt it.

A single, searing thread of heat unfurling in my chest, winding low through my stomach. My wolf stirred sharply, her voice a fierce whisper in my mind.

**“Mate.”**

The goblet in my hand trembled. I forced my gaze to stay forward, scanning the crowd of laughing, drinking wolves. The bond pulled like a tide, and my eyes followed before I could stop them.

Damien Blackthorn stood near the ceremonial fire, surrounded by warriors and high-ranking wolves. His black shirt clung to the kind of muscle that only came from years of training and dominance, sleeves rolled to reveal veins and tanned skin dusted with faint scars. The firelight threw gold over his jaw, sharp and perfect, the faint shadow of stubble making him look even more dangerous.

And his eyes — deep, stormy grey — were locked on mine.

The noise of the gathering faded into a muffled hum. It was just us, two points in a world that suddenly felt too small to hold the space between. My wolf pressed against my mind, wild and eager. My breath caught.

Damien moved first. The crowd parted without him having to speak, some bowing, others stepping back quickly, as if afraid of blocking his path. His stride was slow, deliberate, every step a reminder that he was Alpha here — feared, obeyed, untouchable.

My pulse thundered in my ears. I gripped the tray tighter, forcing myself not to retreat.

When he stopped in front of me, the bond roared to life — the scent of pine and smoke from his skin tangled with mine, making my knees weak.

“Aria,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue in a voice like low thunder.

I swallowed. “Alpha.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, but not into anything resembling warmth. “The Moon Goddess has an unusual sense of humor.” His gaze raked over me slowly, lingering for a heartbeat too long on my lips before moving up to meet my eyes again.

Around us, whispers began to ripple through the gathering like a breeze before a storm. *“They’re mates?”* *“Impossible…”* *“The Alpha and a servant?”*

My cheeks burned. I wanted to tell them to shut up, to defend myself, but the bond was a wildfire in my veins.

Damien reached forward suddenly, his fingers brushing my chin, tilting my face up. The contact was electric — hot, burning, sending sparks down my spine. My wolf purred, but my human heart stumbled in panic. This man had spent years ignoring me. Mocking me. Putting me in my place without mercy.

“Do you feel it?” he asked softly, so low only I could hear.

“Yes,” I breathed, hating how desperate it sounded.

For a moment, something unreadable flickered in his eyes — hunger, maybe, or something darker. His thumb grazed my jaw, a touch that promised both heaven and hell.

Then he let go, stepping back just enough for cold air to rush between us. “Meet me after the ceremony,” he said, tone smooth but laced with steel.

The pull of the mate bond clung to me even after he walked away, each step he took leaving my wolf whining for him.

I stood frozen, the tray still in my hands, my heart pounding like a drum. All around me, eyes followed — some curious, some jealous, some openly hostile. I could hear the venom in their whispers, the disbelief in their laughter.

“Her? The Alpha’s mate?”

“She won’t last a week.”

“The Moon Goddess must have made a mistake.”

Their words slid under my skin like blades, but I forced my chin up. For a moment, I allowed myself the smallest spark of hope. Maybe this was my chance to finally belong.

But somewhere deep down, I knew better.

This was not going to end the way I’d once dreamed.

And with the Moon Goddess watching from above, the night was far from over.