CHAPTER 4

Damien’s Regret

Damien couldn’t sleep.

It had been three days since the mating ceremony, and yet his mind refused to rest.

The moment he had spoken those fateful words—"I reject you."—something inside him had fractured.

His wolf, once strong and unshakable, was now restless, pacing within him, howling in distress. It clawed at his mind, demanding to be set free, but he refused to acknowledge the ache buried deep in his chest.

It didn’t make sense.

Lyra was nothing—a weak, unwanted she-wolf with a cursed mark. His rejection should have freed him. It should have strengthened him.

Instead, he felt like he was dying.

He slammed his fist against his desk, sending papers flying. The grand study of the Bloodmoon Pack’s packhouse was empty, save for him and the suffocating silence.

A knock on the door broke through his thoughts.

"Come in," he growled.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open, revealing Serena, his beta and closest advisor. She hesitated before stepping forward, her expression troubled.

"Damien," she said carefully. "There’s something you need to know."

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "If this is about the pack’s reaction to the rejection—"

"It’s not," she interrupted. "It’s about the rogues."

His muscles tensed.

"Another attack?"

She nodded grimly. "Alpha Rowan’s forces are moving fast. We lost three border patrols last night. Our warriors are struggling to hold them back."

Damien clenched his jaw.

Rowan.

The rogue king, a vicious warlord who had spent the last decade slaughtering packs and claiming their territories.

Damien had always prepared for war, but something about this felt different.

More dangerous.

"They’re getting stronger," Serena continued. "Too strong. It’s almost as if—"

"As if they have inside knowledge of our weaknesses," Damien finished darkly.

Serena hesitated before nodding. "Yes."

A cold sense of unease slithered through him.

Someone was helping Rowan from the inside.

"Gather the council," he ordered. "I want every warrior on high alert. We need to be ready."

Serena shifted uncomfortably. "That’s… not all, Damien."

He narrowed his eyes. "What else?"

She took a slow breath before saying, "The Moon Council has requested an audience with you."

Damien stiffened.

The Moon Council was an ancient group of elders, rarely interfering in pack matters unless the situation was dire.

If they were reaching out, it meant something was very, very wrong.

"Did they say why?" he asked.

Serena hesitated, then spoke the words that sent a chill down his spine.

"It’s about Lyra."

Silence fell over the room.

Damien’s heartbeat stuttered.

His mind flashed back to the last time he had seen her—her tear-streaked face, the pain in her eyes as the guards had dragged her away.

He had refused to look at her. Refused to acknowledge the sickening guilt clawing at his chest.

And now, three days later, the Moon Council was summoning him?

"Set up the meeting," he said, his voice rough.

Serena nodded and left without another word.

As the door closed behind her, Damien ran a hand through his hair, breathing heavily.

Something wasn’t right.

And for the first time since that night—

He felt a flicker of fear.

---

The Moon Council’s Warning

The Moon Council’s sacred hall was carved into the heart of the mountain, its walls lined with ancient symbols that pulsed faintly with magic.

Damien stood before the three elders, their expressions grave. The air felt thick, charged with unseen power.

"Alpha Damien Blackwood," one of them intoned. "You have made a grave mistake."

Damien straightened. "If this is about my rejected mate—"

"It is," the elder interrupted, his voice sharp. "And you would do well to listen."

Damien’s wolf growled, but he forced himself to remain silent.

Another elder, a woman with piercing golden eyes, leaned forward.

"The mate you cast aside was your only salvation."

A chill crept down Damien’s spine.

"What… what do you mean?"

The elder sighed. "Lyra Everwood is not cursed. She is the last heir of the Moonblood Clan. The power in her veins is greater than any Alpha’s. She is the only one who can stand against Rowan."

Damien’s breath caught.

Lyra? The weak, unwanted she-wolf he had exiled?

His mate?

The only one who could save his pack?

"No," he whispered. "That’s not possible."

The elder’s golden eyes hardened.

"It is not only possible," she said. "It is true. And you—" she paused, her voice filled with quiet fury, "—threw her away."

Damien’s chest tightened.

The mate bond was gone. But something deep inside him—something primal—ached.

He had rejected her.

He had exiled her.

And now… she was the key to saving them all.

His hands curled into fists.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

The elders exchanged glances.

"Lost to you," the first one said. "For now."

Damien’s heart pounded.

He had to find her.

Before it was too late.