Chapter 1

POV: Amara Cross at 19.

“No matter how sharp your blade, the title ‘Beta by mercy’ cuts deeper.”

The cold air crept in before the dawn did—thin, biting, and cruel, just like the stares that followed me everywhere in this pack.

I sat up in bed, breath caught in my throat. It had always been a major challenge. The dreams, the fire. Another face I didn’t recognize. A woman screaming my name, not Amara—but something softer and stranger. I clutched the pendant around my neck, the only thing I’d had since the day I was found on the border of Dawnshade Pack fourteen years ago, half-dead and memoryless.

The dreams never stopped.

Neither did the cold.

And today of all days, the chill felt different.

Today was the Blood Moon Ceremony.

Today everything could change… or shatter.

I pulled the covers off and stood, feeling the tension coil in my muscles. Nineteen years old, a trained warrior, and still I was seen as nothing more than a Beta by pity—a role I earned through broken bones and blood, not bloodline.

The mirror caught my reflection as I dressed. My eyes always unsettled anytime I caught glimpse of myself. Silver-gray, just like the wolves whispered of in their ghost stories. Just like hers—though I didn’t know who she was.

Downstairs, the training yard was already alive with movement. Warriors sharpening blades, brushing pelts, preparing to impress the elders under tonight’s blood moon. I passed them quietly, head high, shoulders straight. But the whispers never stopped. 

Whispers from parents to children. From the young wolves to the old ones. 

“Do you know that the Beta was found in the snow? Like a cursed thing.”

“Alpha Blaine just took her in to save face.”

“How could she even become the Beta?”

I ignored them as I had always did. If I let their words cut, I’d have bled out by twelve.

“Amara!”

I turned to see Gareth, my mentor and the previous Beta before age forced him to retire. His gray beard twitched under a scowl.

“You’re late,” he grunted. “The Blood Moon prep waits for no one.”

“Am sorry for the lateness, It wasn’t intentional.” I muttered, falling into step beside him as we crossed into the weapons shed.

“You keep saying that all the time,” he growled. “You’re a Beta for crying at loud and the more you let that sink in your head, the better for you.”

I stood frozen, my hands trembling as to not receive any more punishments this time.

I had always read in books that Beta had power when it came to the heirarchy of a pack, but to me, It was only but a title and not action. 

I always faced punishments from the Alpha, and even the delta guards insulted me with me not given the power to punish or scold any of them.

He passed me a training blade, though he knowing fully I didn’t need it. “Now take.”

“There’s tension in the air,” he said, voice low. “Worse than usual. The elders are on edge and Kieran’s kept himself locked away. I saw Amara burning herbs again.”

“Amara always burns herbs,” I said. “She thinks it makes her look mysterious.”

He didn’t laugh.

“She’s more than that, Selene. And Kieran’s marrying her for more than just love.”

I flinched. Kieran Blackthorn—the Alpha. My Alpha. And the man who couldn’t look at me without curling his lip.

I didn’t care.

Not about his sharp cheekbones, or the way he fought like thunder, or the rare moments his gaze lingered on me like he wanted to say something and never did.

Not at all.

“I just want to survive the ceremony,” I said.

“You want more than that,” Gareth said. “You’re hoping it’ll explain why your dreams scream louder on nights like this. Why you see people who aren’t real.”

I hesitated. He always knew too much.

“I don’t know what I want,” I admitted.

He placed a hand on my shoulder, and for once, his voice softened.

“Then want the truth. Because one way or another, tonight will give it to you.”

By nightfall, the ceremony grounds were humming with firelight and tension. Wolves from every rank stood in a circle beneath the blood-red moon, its eerie glow dripping like wine across the snow.

I wore the ceremonial black. Everyone else wore silver or crimson, signs of legacy. I wasn’t born to either.

I stood alone.

The elders began the chant, and a strange hush fell across the field. The fire cracked. The moon seemed to pulse.

And then—he walked in.

The person with his majestic frame was no other person than Alpha Ronan Thorn.

Tall. Cold. Shadowed in crimson.

He didn’t spare me a glance.

Beside him, Liesendra Silvershadow, his betrothed, draped in silver silk and malice. She smirked when she saw me. I lowered my gaze.

The elder stepped forward, raising his staff. “Tonight, the Moon chooses. Fate is not ours to command.”

One by one, wolves were called forward. Bonds ignited. Some cried. Some rejected.

And then was my name screamed through the clearing. “Amira Cross.”

The name hit like lightning.

I moved stiffly, stepping into the circle.

The elder’s voice echoed. “In a dream to all the Elders last night, the Moon goddess as usual when the Blood Moon Ceremony comes showed us the fated mate of our heir Alpha.” 

At a moment I blacked out. The taught was how did I have any relationship with their dream and how was I here finding myself as I stared at the tall framed man in front of me.

“The dream was simple. Ronan Thorn became pledges to the so called Beta.”

At a snap glance, the both of us froze. 

“What?” Liesendra whispered. “Not possible.”

That was when Ronan’s eyes met mine for the first time in weeks, as something ancient sparked between us.

It was fire and pain.

My wrist flared with searing heat.

I cried out as a glowing mark spiraled into my skin—twisting, burning, binding.

“The Moon has chosen,” the elder whispered. “What divinity has planted has come upon Alpha Ronan and Amira.”

In the swirl of pain, I turned to meet eyes with the one standing at Ronan’s flank--Liesendra, her face contorted in anger.

“No,” Ronan snarled, staggering back. “This isn’t happening.”

“Yes. It’s happening already.” Elder Maro intercepted his statement. 

Ronan ran towards me, pushing me to the floor, “You think I don’t know your tricks.” He snapped. “Liesendra is mine and my mate and no one. Absolutely no one can change that.”

I fell to my knees, the mark blazing like fire on my skin, etched into my fate. “Ronan.” I whispered enough for him to hear, “Please.”

He spat, “How. How. How.” For a moment he stuttered, “How can I mate with you—a cursed thing.”

I was still on the ground, m hands clutched to my heart pounding violently. 

That was when he locked eyes with me, his right hand placed on his chest, his other holding Liesendra’s waist, 

“I pledge today under the watch of the Blood Moon that I, heir

Alpha Ronan Thorn reject the fated bond between me and miss. Amira Cross.”