Know your place

Aria’s POV

Just when I thought the Moon Goddess had abandoned me forever, she proved me wrong.

A mate.

Finally.

The breath I didn’t know I’d been holding escaped in a laugh—half disbelief, half wild joy. Sparks still burned across my skin, every nerve alive with the undeniable truth: Alpha Darius Blackwood was mine.

Me. The runt. The mistake of Bloodfang. The forgotten girl.

And yet, the Moon herself had chosen him for me.

A smile stretched across my face, so bright it hurt. The kind of smile I hadn’t felt in years, maybe ever. It lit me from the inside out as I began to walk toward him. The crowd stirred, parting instinctively, wolves stepping aside to make way. Whispers rose like smoke through the air, all eyes fixed on me, on us.

I didn’t care. For once, the whispers didn’t cut. For once, the stares didn’t shame.

Because this was my moment.

Was I the only one smiling? Shouldn’t he be smiling too? He now had a mate—his other half, his destiny. He would never again walk through life alone. And Lyra, shadowing him like a queen without a crown, would finally learn her place.

The Moon Goddess, in all her wisdom, had not joined perfection to perfection. No. She had written a different story—one that placed me, Aria Hale, at the Alpha’s side.

“Alpha Darius,” I called, my voice trembling with laughter and awe as I took another step toward him. My heart raced as his eyes met mine. Surprise flickered there for the briefest instant—then it curdled.

Disgust.

The smile faltered on my lips.

He groaned, slapping a hand over his forehead before dragging it down his face. “What kind of cruel joke is this?” His voice carried, sharp and cutting. “Seriously? Oh, for the love of the goddess…”

I stopped mid-step, blinking rapidly, my pulse faltering. Heat rushed into my cheeks as confusion tangled with panic. “My Alpha… is everything okay? Why—why are you mad?” I forced a laugh, brittle and hollow, as I reached a hand toward him.

He stepped back.

His lip curled, eyes narrowing as if my very presence was filth clinging to him. His words fell like an executioner’s blade.

“Us? Never.”

A weak chuckle slipped from my lips, shaky and desperate, as if laughter could stitch over the wound splitting me open. I glanced around, searching for some anchor, some shred of mercy. But the crowd was already shifting—eyes widening, whispers spreading like wildfire.

Murmurs rose to mumbles, mumbles to low chuckles. The betas themselves snickered, covering their mouths poorly, their shoulders shaking with cruel amusement. The pack was laughing at me.

I turned back to Darius, shaking my head as though I could wipe the sneer from his face, force him to see what I saw—the sparks, the bond, destiny itself. “You don’t like this?” I whispered, voice cracking. “Finally… a mate? After all this time?”

For a heartbeat, silence fell. Hope clung to me by its last fragile thread.

Then Darius’s lips curved into a sneer that cut deeper than any blade. His voice carried, merciless and unyielding, echoing over the gathering.

“You? The weakling of Bloodfang? You’ll never stand by my side.”

The words shattered everything.

Laughter erupted, rolling over me like thunder. The pack roared, pointing, sneering, howling their delight at my misery. The bond flared, searing through me, burning agony ripping into my chest, my soul tearing at the rejection. My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as pain consumed me.

But humiliation was not enough.

A shadow loomed, and then Lyra Vexley stepped forward, her smile sharp as glass. She tilted her goblet with calculated grace, pouring crimson wine down my gown. The liquid soaked into the fabric, staining like blood, like shame.

“You?” she taunted sweetly, venom lacing every syllable. “You will never be the one to stand beside Darius. You’re nothing, Aria. Less than nothing.”

The crowd howled, jeers spilling like arrows.

Lyra’s voice rose above the chaos, cruel and shrill. “A stupid little orphan—thinking she could ever belong to a whole Alpha? Pathetic.” She tilted her head, pity feigned. “No one in this pack is meant for you. No one ever will be.”

“We all know it’s still your birthday, just avoid next year’s birthday and hang yourself.” Someone said from the crowd.

Her words sliced me open.

My lips trembled, my body shaking as warm tears slid down my cheeks. Every laugh, every insult pressed down on me, burying me alive in shame.

I forced myself to my feet, trembling but unbroken, though the ground swayed beneath me. My gaze swept over them all—wolves who had mocked me, tormented me, who now threw scraps of food, rotten fruit, anything they could grab, pelting me as though I were less than an animal.

The laughter grew, deafening.

I looked at them through blurred vision, my heart splintering, my stomach twisting with disgust. These were my pack. My family. My world.

And they hated me.

A groan slipped from Darius’s lips. He didn’t look at me—no, his hand slid instead around Lyra’s waist, yanking her against him. And then, before the entire pack, he crushed his lips against hers.

The clearing erupted. Cheers, laughter, howls of delight shook the air as if my agony were their festival. My chest caved in, every beat of my heart tearing raw, splintering deeper.

When he finally pulled away, his gaze—icy, unrelenting—locked on me. “Hear this now, Aria Hale,” he declared, voice booming across the field. “You are cast out of Bloodfang. You are no wolf of mine. You are nothing.”

The words slammed into me harder than any blow. I staggered, staring at him, my lips trembling. “No… Alpha, please—don’t…” My voice cracked as I reached for him, but he turned away, deaf to me. Already, his guards moved, hands like iron clamping down on my arms.

“No!” I screamed, thrashing, yanking until my wrists burned. Desperation roared in my chest, then something sharp, wild, unrecognizable split out of me. I ripped free, stumbling forward.

And I laughed.

Every head turned. My laughter rang raw, brittle, but sharp as broken glass. I looked at Darius with tears still burning on my cheeks, and yet my voice was steady, clear.

“Remember this day, Alpha,” I spat. “You’re the one who rejected me. The next time we meet… you’ll be the one begging me to come back.”

The pack gasped, a ripple of shock tearing through the crowd. Where had those words come from? I didn’t know. They weren’t mine—at least, not the girl I had been minutes ago. But they were true. I could feel it down to my marrow.

Darius’s face twisted, rage flaring. “You have a death wish, runt?”

I scoffed, lifting my chin. “Maybe I do. At least it’s better than rotting here.”

Without hesitation, I reached for the hem of my gown and ripped it down, stripping away the tattered fabric until only my shorts and sports bra clung to me. Gasps scattered through the crowd, but I didn’t care. Let them see me bare, stripped of everything they thought defined me.

I turned slowly, meeting every eye, my voice cutting through the night. “All of you—every insult, every sneer, every shove. You think you broke me? No. You only made me stronger. You call me nothing, but I swear—you will remember my name.”

One warrior chuckled darkly. “You won’t even survive a night out there. The rogues will tear you apart before dawn.”

I laughed, shaking my head, letting the sound curl low and dangerous. “And what’s the point of surviving here? To keep being your punching bag? Your scapegoat? No thanks.”

Finally, I turned back to Darius, bowing slightly with mocking grace. “Thank you, Alpha, for the gift of exile. I’d rather run with shadows than ever crawl at your feet again.”

Straightening, I let out a wild, manic laugh, untied my hair, and shook it loose. The wind caught it, whipping around me as if the night itself was mine.

Without another word, I turned on my heel and strode into the woods. Stumbling, bleeding, broken. But free.

No longer one of Bloodfang.