CHAPTER 5

ARIANA POV

Four months passed, but the sting of rejection never truly left my skin. It dulled, yes, the way an old wound stops bleeding but still aches when touched.

Life in Silvercrest Pack continued, school continued, and people continued to treat me as the girl who wasn’t good enough for their future Alpha. Every hallway felt like a gauntlet I had to walk through daily, and though I survived it, the bruises were not always visible.

Clara remained my anchor through it all, steady and warm in the way only someone who expected nothing in return could be. She never asked for explanations, never pushed me to speak before I was ready.

Leah and Ethan were the only ones who still treated me like a human being at school, refusing to join the cruelty that flowed so easily from the others’ lips. If not for the three of them, I would have collapsed long ago.

The pack had not forgotten the rejection. In fact, they made sure I didn’t forget either. They whispered in the hallways, never bothering to lower their voices enough. Some were bold enough to speak directly to my face, as if humiliating me further earned them some special favor. They said I was weak. Unworthy. Too plain to stand beside Damien. They said I should count myself lucky that he rejected me early instead of embarrassing the entire pack by accepting someone like me.

I learned to keep my expression still. I learned to let their words pass over me like ash carried by the wind. I reminded myself—over and over—that I came here to live a real life, one without royal privilege, one where I would understand what it meant to be ordinary.

Reality, I discovered, was far less forgiving than I expected.

Some mornings, I would look at myself in the mirror longer than necessary. Not because I was admiring anything, but because I was trying to understand what exactly made me so easy to target. My reflection offered no answers. I wasn’t extraordinary. I wasn’t hideous either. I was simply… me. A normal girl living a normal life, which was precisely what I had begged my father for. I just never understood that normal life came with normal pain.

School became a battlefield of its own. Classes didn’t change, but the way people acted around me did. Even the teachers, though more subtle, looked at me with a mixture of pity and disapproval.

Some of my classmates deliberately bumped into me when passing. Others sent snide smiles my way, their eyes gleaming with satisfaction at my discomfort. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t lash out. I refused to give them what they wanted. Silence became my armor, and I wore it well.

Damien never looked at me during training. He never looked at me anywhere, actually. If we crossed paths in a corridor or outside, he walked past me as if I didn’t exist. I didn’t blame him. A rejection is a rejection. He made his choice, and I accepted it, even if my chest tightened every time I remembered the humiliation. I knew, with a certainty rooted deep inside me, that if he had known who I truly was—if he had known I was the Alpha King’s daughter—he would never have dared to reject me. But that truth was exactly why I didn’t let myself dwell on what could’ve been. This life, this identity, this pain… all of it was part of the freedom I had asked for. And I was determined to earn it.

It was around this time that Alpha Elias announced the annual meeting with neighbouring packs.

News traveled fast through the pack, carried by the excitement of families preparing their homes, schools organizing welcome events, and warriors adjusting schedules for visiting dignitaries. The gathering happened once every few years, a strategic event where future leaders met to build alliances. This year, it was Silvercrest’s turn to host, and the entire pack rose to the occasion.

I didn’t expect to be involved in any meaningful way. I wasn’t a ranked wolf, and I held no position that required me to be present. But Clara, being the supportive aunt she was, insisted that I shouldn’t hide indoors when the entire pack was celebrating something that happened so rarely. Leah and Ethan agreed. They practically dragged me out of the house and forced me into the atmosphere of anticipation and noise.

On the evening the guests arrived, the pack grounds buzzed with a kind of energy I hadn’t felt in months. Young wolves dressed formally, parents fussed over their children, and warriors stood proudly in formation. The air trembled with excitement. Mate bonds often revealed themselves during gatherings like these, especially among unmated wolves close to adulthood. The closer one was to their eighteenth birthday, the stronger the pull could be.

I told myself it didn’t matter. My first bond had already snapped like brittle glass. Whatever happened now was fate’s decision, not mine.

When the visiting packs began to enter, the crowd shifted, creating space for each group to pass. Alpha Donovan spoke, his booming voice carrying across the field. Introductions were made, greetings exchanged, alliances acknowledged. I stood toward the back with Leah and Ethan, not drawing any attention, perfectly content to remain invisible.

Then Riverline Pack entered.

Their warriors were disciplined, their young members carried themselves with the confidence of wolves raised under strong leadership, and their Alpha had the quiet presence of a man who was feared for the right reasons. But none of that was what captured my breath or tightened my heartbeat.

It was him.

Adrian Rivers.

He stood beside his father, his posture straight, his expression unreadable and calm. His presence pulled the air in his direction without effort, the same way gravity pulls the tide. His eyes scanned the crowd, not hurriedly, not distractedly, but with deliberate focus—as if he was searching for something he expected to find. I didn’t understand why my chest tightened as his gaze moved closer to where I stood. I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

Then his eyes found mine.

The moment lasted only a second, but the world shifted. A heat surged through my veins—subtle, warm, electric—and my wolf stirred with a recognition I had never felt before, not even with Damien. It wasn’t a spark. It was a pull.

Adrian inhaled sharply.

His steps faltered.

For a heartbeat, the entire pack grounds felt impossibly still.

Leah whispered my name under her breath, but her voice faded into the background. Adrian’s stare didn’t waver. Something flickered in his eyes—shock, realization… and something deeper. His jaw clenched as if he was fighting something he didn’t want to reveal.

He took a single step toward me.

Then another.

Each movement was slow, deliberate, heavy with meaning, and every wolf around us sensed the shift in the air. Conversations stopped. Heads turned. Warriors straightened. The tension that rippled through the gathering was unmistakable.

Adrian’s voice was low, rich, controlled when he finally spoke.

“Mate.”

The word didn’t echo. It didn’t need to. My heart pounded so loudly it drowned everything else out.

A second chance mate.

A fate I didn’t expect.

A bond that terrified me.

Before I could speak, before I could breathe, before I could decide anything at all, Adrian stepped closer—too close, close enough that the crowd began to murmur again.

And then, with a voice that held more power than thunder and more restraint than a warrior in battle, he said softly—

“We need to talk. Alone.”