The Alpha’s Betrayal
The Bloodmoon Pack’s ceremonial gathering was supposed to be the happiest night of Lyra Everwood’s life.
The grand hall, built from dark oak and ancient stone, was alive with energy. Golden chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, their flickering flames casting warm light over the crowd. The scent of roasted meat and sweet honeywine filled the air as pack members whispered and laughed, their excitement crackling like an electric current.
Tonight was the Mating Ceremony—a sacred event where the Moon Goddess revealed fated mates. It was the night dreams came true, where wolves found their other halves, their soul bonds.
For years, Lyra had imagined this moment. She wasn’t an Alpha’s daughter, nor a warrior, but she had hoped. She had prayed that she would find the one who would love her unconditionally.
And then—she felt it.
A shiver raced down her spine. A heat curled in her stomach, spreading like wildfire through her veins.
Her wolf stirred.
Her head snapped up, and her breath caught in her throat.
The scent hit her like a tidal wave.
It was intoxicating—rich, earthy, laced with dominance and power. A scent that sent a pulse of recognition through her very soul.
Her mate.
Her gaze locked onto the towering figure near the entrance of the hall.
Alpha Damien Blackwood.
The most powerful Alpha in the region.
His dark eyes widened slightly as their bond flared to life between them. She saw the golden flecks in his irises shimmer for a brief moment before his expression hardened.
He could feel it, too.
The room fell into silence as the energy shifted. Every wolf in the hall sensed the mate bond snapping into place.
The murmurs began.
"The Alpha found his mate…"
"Wait—look at her wrist!" "No… it can’t be!"Confused, Lyra followed their stares and glanced down at her own wrist.
The silver insignia.
A strange marking she had been born with. A birthmark unlike any other—a swirling silver design, almost glowing under the candlelight.
Her mother had always told her it was nothing. But now…
Now, the room was filled with fear.
"She bears the mark!" someone whispered, their voice trembling.
"The cursed one!" another spat. "Her blood will bring ruin to us all!"Lyra’s heart pounded. What were they saying?
She turned back to Damien, searching for reassurance, for anything that could explain this.
But his face was unreadable.
Then Serena, his Beta and closest advisor, leaned in and whispered something in his ear.
Damien’s jaw clenched. His hands balled into fists at his sides.
And then, his voice rang clear and cold through the hall.
"I, Alpha Damien Blackwood, reject you as my mate."
Lyra’s world shattered.
A physical pain tore through her chest, white-hot and unbearable. The mate bond cracked like fragile glass, splitting apart, leaving her breathless.
She gasped, stumbling backward, her vision blurring.
No. No, this wasn’t happening.
Damien took a slow step forward, towering over her, his presence suffocating.
"You are hereby exiled from the Bloodmoon Pack."
A stunned silence followed.
Then came chaos.
Before she could react, strong hands grabbed her arms. The pack’s guards. Their grips like iron, their faces void of sympathy.
"No—please!" she cried, struggling against them. "Damien, please!"
Her voice broke on his name.
But he didn’t even look at her.
Not once.
Tears blurred her vision as the guards dragged her toward the packhouse doors. She twisted, fought, but it was pointless.
The last thing she saw before the doors slammed shut behind her—
Was the pack celebrating.
As if her existence had never mattered at all.
A Wolf UnleashedThe moon hung high over the valley, casting silver streaks across Lyra’s cabin floor. She tossed and turned in her sleep, tangled in her blanket, her breath coming in shallow gasps.The nightmare had her in its grip again.Running.Bleeding.Alone.She jolted upright with a strangled gasp, drenched in sweat. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her skin burned like fire, her muscles twitching beneath the surface.Then—pain.Not emotional this time.Physical.Her fingers curled involuntarily, claws beginning to form.Her back arched as her spine popped.She clutched her head, biting back a scream.No. Not now.Her wolf was breaking through—but it wasn’t calm. It wasn’t controlled. It was wild. Unstable. Half-mad with grief and fury.She staggered to her feet, knocking over the chair beside her bed.The shift wasn’t like before. It was partial—like her body didn’t know whether to complete it or stop. Her hands trembled as fur crawled up her forearms and receded again. He
The Enemy WithinLyra had barely gotten through her morning routine when a sharp knock rattled her cabin door.Riven stood outside, jaw tight, eyes unreadable. “You need to come with me.”No explanation.Just tension.She followed him without question.They moved fast through the sanctuary until they reached the west border post. Mira and two other guards stood there, surrounding a trembling rogue with a bloodied nose and torn shirt. He was barely out of his twenties.“What happened?” Lyra asked.Mira turned toward her, furious. “Caught him trying to sneak past the wards. He had this.”She held up a crumpled piece of parchment. It was a map—detailed, precise, and marked with an X exactly where Lyra’s cabin stood.Lyra’s blood ran cold.Riven snatched the map and examined it. “These symbols... they’re coded.”“No need to decode anything,” Mira snapped. “He’s a traitor.”“I swear,” the rogue choked out, blood on his lips. “I didn’t know what it was. They said it was just a delivery—just
Hunted The forest stretched before Lyra like a dark abyss, its towering trees whispering secrets into the night. Cold air slashed against her skin as she staggered forward, her breath coming in ragged gasps.Every step sent a fresh wave of agony through her body. The mate bond had been shattered, leaving behind an unbearable hollowness. Her wolf whimpered inside her—broken, silent. The pain was so intense that shifting felt impossible.Keep moving.She had to run.She didn’t know where she was going—all she knew was that she couldn’t stop.Behind her, the Bloodfang Pack’s gates loomed, shut tight. The place she had once called home was now just a memory. An illusion of safety, torn away.Betrayed. Rejected. Hunted.Her stomach twisted.She hadn’t even had time to grieve what she’d lost.Because she wasn’t alone.The wind shifted—carrying the sharp, metallic scent of danger.A growl. Low. Menacing.Her breath caught as she spun around.From the shadows, a pair of glowing amber eyes st
Blood in the SnowThe forest around the sanctuary had never felt so still.The air hung heavy, laced with the memory of the masked intruder and the warning he left behind. Every rogue in the camp moved a little more cautiously now, eyes sharper, backs straighter.Lyra trained harder.Mira had taken over most of her combat drills—brutal, relentless sessions that pushed her past exhaustion. Mira wasn’t kind, but she was fair.“You don’t get to hesitate,” Mira snapped during a morning session, forcing Lyra’s arm into a painful lock. “Out there, one blink and you're dead.”“I wasn’t hesitating,” Lyra growled, twisting out of the grip and landing a blow against Mira’s ribs.The older rogue stumbled back, grinning despite the hit. “Good. Maybe you won’t die after all.”It wasn’t praise—but it wasn’t an insult either. For Mira, that was progress.Later that afternoon, Lyra found herself summoned again—this time by the elder alpha, Darius. He stood at the edge of the cliff that overlooked the
A New Kind of PainThe next few days passed in a rhythm that was both exhausting and oddly comforting.Lyra trained from dawn till dusk. She sparred with anyone willing—Riven, the scar-jawed female named Mira, even a few reluctant rogues who finally stepped forward after watching her persist in silence. She didn’t always win, but she always got back up.Her bruises told stories of resilience. Her muscles ached, but it was the kind of ache that made her feel real—alive.But even amid the grind, the whispers didn’t stop.“She’s trying too hard.”“She still smells like them.”“She’ll break. They always do.”She pretended not to hear. Pretended their words didn’t twist in her gut. But every whispered doubt was a shadow she carried to bed.One afternoon, Riven found her sitting alone behind the supply tent, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, eyes staring out at nothing.He didn’t speak right away. Just lowered himself to sit beside her, back against the rough wood.“You’re holding your
Shadows of TrustThe morning air was crisp, laced with the scent of pine and smoke. Lyra rose early, her limbs sore from the previous night’s training, but her spirit was steady.No one greeted her when she stepped outside. The camp was already alive—rogues moving with quiet purpose, sharpening weapons, checking supplies, training. There was no small talk here. Just survival.She moved toward the training grounds again. Not to prove herself—but because she needed control over something. Over anything.Riven was already there, sparring with a bulky male rogue. His movements were precise and lethal, every strike a display of discipline and rage held in balance.He noticed her and paused.“You’re early.”“I couldn’t sleep,” she replied.He tossed her a smaller staff this time. “Let’s test your instincts today.”They began again. Quicker. Sharper. He didn’t hold back.She welcomed the bruises.Each clash of wood echoed her defiance. Every block, every stumble, every recovery carved away t