Maybe the Moon Goddess Is Blind

Olivia's POV

"If Alpha Ryker turns out to be your mate, maybe the Moon Goddess really is blind."

The comment was followed by a burst of laughter that echoed through the pack kitchen. I kept my smile firmly in place as I carried a tray of pastries toward the banquet hall, pretending I hadn't heard a word. Years of practice had made that easy, or at least it had made it look easy.

The truth was that every cruel remark left a mark somewhere inside me. Some scars faded with time, while others settled deep beneath the surface and became part of who I was. Judging by the laughter still ringing behind me, today's comment would probably join the collection.

"Come on," another she-wolf said between laughs. "Can you imagine Alpha Ryker's face?"

That earned an even louder reaction.

"Don't be mean."

For one hopeful second, I thought someone was actually defending me. Then she continued.

"He'd probably reject the entire mate bond and leave the continent."

More laughter followed. I tightened my grip on the tray and kept walking.

Today was my twenty-first birthday. In a few hours, I would attend the annual mating ceremony, where wolves who had come of age gathered beneath the Moon Goddess's blessing to discover their fated mates. Most girls spent years dreaming about this night. I had spent years dreading it.

It wasn't because I didn't want a mate. Quite the opposite. I wanted one desperately. I wanted someone who would look at me and see more than my size, someone who would notice the girl who loved books and midnight walks, who baked when she was nervous and laughed too loudly when she felt comfortable enough to forget herself. More than anything, I wanted someone who would choose me. The problem was that life had given me very little reason to believe such a person existed.

By the time I entered the banquet hall, my cheeks hurt from forcing smiles. The hall buzzed with activity as pack members decorated tables and arranged silver banners bearing the crescent moon crest. Everything looked beautiful. Standing in the middle of it all, I felt very much like a nervous mess.

"Olivia."

I turned and found my stepmother standing behind me. Diana Hart never needed to raise her voice to make me feel small. One look usually did the job. Her gaze traveled from my carefully styled hair to the silver dress folded over my arm, and her lips pressed together. Never a good sign.

"Is that what you're wearing tonight?"

I glanced down at the dress. "It's the one Father bought me."

"I know that." Her expression tightened. "I'm asking whether that's your final choice."

I already knew where this conversation was heading. "It's not that bad."

Diana sighed dramatically. "Olivia, darling, some dresses simply aren't designed for certain body types."

There it was. A bitter laugh nearly escaped me. The funny thing was that Diana genuinely believed she was being helpful.

"I'll be fine," I said.

"You always say that."

"And you're always disappointed anyway."

The words slipped out before I could stop them. For a second, she looked genuinely shocked. Then her eyes narrowed.

"Watch your tone."

I lowered my gaze, not because she deserved my obedience but because I was tired. I was tired of arguing, tired of hoping people would change, and tired of explaining that I wasn't some tragic project in need of fixing. Fortunately, Diana had plenty of other things to worry about. With one final look of disapproval, she walked away.

I released a slow breath.

"Well done."

The familiar voice made me smile. My father approached carrying a crate of decorations. Unlike Diana, he looked happy to see me. Really happy.

"You survived another conversation with your stepmother."

"Barely."

He chuckled. "I'm proud of you, Liv."

My chest tightened unexpectedly. "Because I didn't start an argument?"

"Because no matter what people say, you keep showing up."

The simple sincerity in his voice almost brought tears to my eyes. I quickly blinked them away. If I cried today, I suspected I'd never stop.

Father seemed to sense my mood. He rested a hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"You know none of that matters tonight, right?"

I forced a smile. "It matters a little."

"No." His expression softened. "It doesn't."

I wanted to believe him. I truly did. But believing was difficult after years of whispers and sideways glances. It was difficult after spending years watching other girls become wolves while I remained stubbornly and embarrassingly human.

That was the other problem. Not only was I plump, but I still hadn't shifted. At twenty-one years old.

Most werewolves experienced their first shift by sixteen. Some took longer, but not this long. Nobody talked about it openly anymore, yet I saw the pity in their eyes whenever the subject came up. I could almost hear what they were thinking whenever they looked at me: poor Olivia, too big, too weak, and still without a wolf at twenty-one. To them, I was nothing more than a disappointment.

As evening approached, pack members began gathering in the ceremonial hall. Excitement crackled through the air as young wolves laughed nervously and families exchanged hopeful predictions. I stood near the back of the room, trying to stay invisible. The strategy wasn't working particularly well. People still stared. They always stared.

I adjusted the sleeves of my dress and focused on breathing. All I had to do was get through the evening.

Then a strange sensation swept through my body so suddenly that I nearly stumbled. I froze. The room seemed to tilt, and warmth spread beneath my skin, starting in my chest and rippling outward. At first I thought I might be imagining it, but the feeling returned even stronger than before. My heartbeat accelerated.

A voice whispered through the silence inside my head. A voice I had waited years to hear.

"Mate."

I stopped breathing. No. That wasn't possible.

Tears burned unexpectedly behind my eyes as realization crashed over me. After years of silence and countless nights spent wondering whether I even had a wolf, she was finally there. My wolf was awake.

"Mate," she repeated. The word vibrated through every part of me.

Then I caught the scent. Pine forests after rain. Wild earth. Storm clouds rolling across distant mountains. The scent wrapped around me so completely that it became impossible to focus on anything else. Every instinct inside me recognized it immediately. Mate.

My gaze swept across the crowded hall, searching desperately for the source. Faces blurred together until the crowd parted and I found him.

Alpha Ryker Blackthorn stood at the top of the ceremonial staircase.

For years, I'd heard stories about him. He was the strongest Alpha of our generation, the future Alpha King, and the sort of warrior whose victories became campfire stories before the battles were even over. None of those stories had prepared me for seeing him in person. He looked like a king already. Tall, broad-shouldered, and impossibly handsome, he carried himself with the kind of confidence people spent their entire lives trying to imitate. The kind of man who belonged in legends. Not in my life.

Surely, he couldn't possibly be meant for me. Yet the bond stretched between us like an invisible thread.

Across the room, Ryker suddenly went still. His sharp gray eyes locked onto mine and shock crossed his face. He felt it too. The realization struck me like lightning. Alpha Ryker Blackthorn was my mate. My fated mate.

Hope rose inside me so suddenly that it almost hurt. For years, I had convinced myself not to expect much from fate, but standing there with the bond humming between us, I couldn't stop the thought from slipping through my defenses. Maybe everyone had been wrong. Maybe there had never been anything wrong with me. Maybe the Moon Goddess hadn't forgotten me after all.

Slowly, Ryker began descending the staircase. The room fell silent. One by one, wolves noticed where he was looking, and then they noticed me. Gasps rippled through the crowd as disbelief spread from face to face. I barely noticed. My entire focus was on the man walking toward me. He was walking toward me, toward us, toward whatever future the Moon Goddess had apparently chosen.

When he finally stopped a few feet away, I could hear the rapid beat of my own heart. His gaze moved over my face. The shock was still there, but it was now mixed with something colder, something that made unease curl in my stomach. The silence stretched. Every person in the hall was watching. Waiting.

"Alpha," I whispered.

His jaw tightened. For a second, I thought he might smile. For a second, I thought all my dreams were about to come true.

Instead, his voice cut through the hall like a blade.

"The Moon Goddess," he said, staring directly into my eyes, "must have made a mistake."