Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1
Elowen Nightvale learned early that silence was safer than hope. Today was the day when the alpha king was expected to pick his mate or be blessed by a mate from the moon goddess. She only wished for the night to end so that she could return to her safe abode.
She stood at the edge of the Blackthorn Pack’s ceremonial clearing, fingers curled tightly around the hem of her faded dress, as the full moon climbed higher into the sky. Silver light spilled through the ancient pines, bathing the gathered wolves in a glow that felt both holy and merciless.
Tonight was the Moon Calling.
The night fate revealed itself.
Around her, excitement buzzed like static. Young she-wolves whispered eagerly for the moon goddess to smile favorably on them; parents watched with pride, and wolves stood tall, scenting the air for destiny. Elowen stayed apart, as she always did—an omega-born girl with no lineage worth naming and no future anyone bothered to imagine. She had been used to this all her life. The isolation was nothing new to her.
She had come only because attendance was mandatory.
The moon doesn’t choose girls like me, she reminded herself.
It never had.
“Elowen.”
The sharp voice of an elder snapped her attention forward. “Step closer. You must stand within the circle.”
A few heads turned. Curious. Dismissive. Some openly amused. Many mocked her with scorn and disdain.
Elowen swallowed and obeyed, bare feet brushing the cold earth as she moved into the stone ring etched with lunar runes. Her pulse thundered in her ears. She could feel it—the moon’s presence—stronger tonight than ever before, pressing against her chest like a held breath.
Across the clearing, Alpha King Darius Blackthorn stood elevated on the stone dais, his posture rigid, expression carved from iron. He was everything legends were made of—tall, handsome and rugged with broad-shoulder, power radiating from him in waves that made lesser wolves instinctively bow their heads. His piercing blue eyes scanned the entire pack and seemed to put everyone back in their place.
Elowen did not look at him.
She had learned better than to dream.
The Moon Calling began with a chant, low and ancient, voices rising together in reverence. The air thickened. The runes at Elowen’s feet shimmered faintly.
Then—
Pain.
It struck without warning, a sharp, blinding agony tearing through her chest. Elowen gasped, stumbling as her knees buckled. A searing heat wrapped around her heart, twisting, pulling—claiming.
“No—” she whispered, breathless.
The world tilted.
A sound ripped through the clearing—an unmistakable alpha snarl, raw and startled.
Elowen’s head snapped up.
Darius Blackthorn had gone utterly still.
His eyes—storm-gray and piercing—were locked on her as if she were the only thing that existed. Shock flickered across his face, followed by something darker. Fear. Denial.
The connection slammed into place.
It was undeniable now. She felt him—his strength, his restraint, his sudden fury—threaded through her very soul. The bond burned like molten silver, binding her to him with cruel intimacy.
Gasps erupted around them.
“The Moon has chosen,” the High Priestess intoned, voice reverent and shaking. “The Alpha King’s fated mate has been revealed.”
Silence followed. Heavy. Suffocating.
Elowen’s heart pounded painfully as realization crashed over her.
Me.
The moon had chosen her.
For a single, fragile moment, hope bloomed—dangerous and bright. She felt the pull toward Darius, instinctive and aching, her wolf stirring weakly beneath her skin. This bond… it was supposed to mean safety. Belonging. Love.
Her gaze lifted to his, searching.
What she found shattered her.
Darius looked away.
Not in confusion. Not in awe.
But in rejection.
The bond flared violently in protest, pain lancing through Elowen’s chest so sharply she cried out. She swayed, barely remaining upright.
“No,” Darius said suddenly, his voice cutting through the clearing like a blade. “This is wrong.”
A murmur swept through the pack.
The High Priestess stiffened. “Alpha—”
“My mate is dead,” he snapped, jaw clenched. “The moon must be mistaken.”
The words hit harder than any blow.
Elowen’s breath left her lungs in a silent sob.
Dead.
That was what she was to him. A mistake. A wrong choice. A living error the moon had dared to make.
The chant dissolved into chaos. Elders argued. Wolves whispered. But Elowen heard none of it. The bond pulsed painfully, unreciprocated, raw, and humiliating.
She wanted to run.
Instead, she bowed her head.
Because omegas endured. Because fate didn’t care about feelings. Because the moon had chosen, and she would bear the weight of it alone.
As guards escorted her from the circle, Elowen felt it—deep within her soul, beneath the pain and shame.
The moon had not made a mistake.
And one day, they would all understand why.
But tonight—
Tonight, she was the Alpha King’s fated mate.
And already, utterly alone.
Elowen did not remember leaving the clearing.
Only the pain.
It followed her like a living thing—coiled tight around her heart, pulsing in time with a presence that refused to let go. The mate bond burned silver-hot beneath her skin, a constant reminder of what the moon had declared… and what the Alpha King had denied.
By the time she became aware again, she was lying on a narrow cot in the healers’ quarters, the scent of crushed herbs thick in the air. Soft lamplight flickered against the stone walls. Someone had placed a thin blanket over her, but she still felt cold to the bone.
She turned her head slowly—and froze.
Darius Blackthorn stood near the doorway.
He looked out of place in the cramped room, too large, too powerful, his presence filling every corner. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched, eyes dark with something unreadable.
The bond reacted instantly.
A rush of warmth surged through Elowen, followed by a sharp ache of yearning so sudden it stole her breath. Her wolf—quiet all her life—stirred for the first time, pressing against her ribs like a wounded thing seeking comfort.
She swallowed hard and looked away.