Pulling the black cloak tighter around my shoulders, I watched from the shadows as the Blackmaw Pack gathered for the mating ceremony.
The ceremonial clearing glowed with dozens of torches, casting flickering light across faces both familiar and foreign. Warriors stood tall in formal leathers adorned with their battle honors. Pack elders wore their ceremonial robes, heavy with ancient symbols of power and protection. Representatives from allied packs lined the edges of the sacred circle, witnessing the union that would supposedly strengthen Blackmaw’s position.
The High Priestess stepped into the center of the circle, her silver robes catching the moonlight as she raised her arms toward the night sky. Her voice carried across the hushed gathering.
“We gather under the blessing of the Moon Goddess to witness the joining of souls, the strengthening of our pack through sacred bonds.”
My fingernails dug into my palms. Those words had once been spoken for me, for us. The memory felt like it belonged to someone else now—someone naive enough to believe in forever.
Lady Vela stood proudly at the front of the gathering, her face radiant with triumph. Beside her, Neressa smirked, occasionally whispering to pack members who nodded in agreement. They hadn’t even bothered to look for me when I failed to appear at the ceremony. They had assumed I would hide away, nursing my wounds in private.
They were about to learn how badly they had misjudged me.
The High Priestess continued, her voice rising with the ritual words. “Alpha Rovan Dareth of Blackmaw, step forward and declare your intentions before the pack and the Goddess.”
Rovan stepped into the circle, magnificent in his ceremonial attire. The Alpha medallion gleamed against his chest, catching the firelight. His face was solemn, composed—revealing nothing of whatever conflict might exist within him.
“I come seeking the blessing of the Moon Goddess,” he declared, his deep voice carrying easily across the clearing. “I come to forge a bond that will strengthen our pack and secure our future.”
“And who comes to join with the Alpha of Blackmaw?” the Priestess asked.
Lady Elene stepped forward, resplendent in a gown of deep crimson embroidered with gold. Her flame-red hair was adorned with jewels that sparkled with her every movement. She was beautiful—the kind of beauty that commanded attention and respect.
“I, Lady Elene of Redfang, come to join with Alpha Rovan Dareth,” she announced, her voice clear and confident. “I bring the strength of my bloodline and the alliance of my pack.”
The Priestess nodded, satisfaction in her aged eyes. “The Moon Goddess hears your intentions. Let all who would witness this union stand in the sacred circle.”
The pack members moved forward, forming the traditional ring around the mating pair and the Priestess. This was the moment. My cue.
“Now,” I whispered to myself, stepping out from the shadows.
I walked slowly, deliberately, each step heavy with purpose. The black cloak billowed behind me, a stark contrast to the ceremonial colors worn by everyone else. Conversations hushed as I approached. Heads turned, and a ripple of shock passed through the gathering.
I felt Rovan’s eyes on me before I saw him—the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. When I finally looked at him, the flash of panic on his face sent a savage thrill through me. For once, I had caught him off-guard. For once, I held the power.
“Luna Slyra,” someone whispered, the title carrying through the sudden silence.
I didn’t acknowledge them, keeping my eyes fixed on Rovan as I walked directly into the center of the circle. Lady Elene’s expression darkened, confusion and anger battling across her perfect features.
“What is the meaning of this interruption?” Lady Vela demanded, stepping forward only to be halted by the High Priestess’s raised hand.
The old woman studied me carefully, her ancient eyes missing nothing, not the determination in my stance, nor the ceremonial herbs I had rubbed into my pulse points. She recognized the preparations for what they were.
“Do you come to object?” she asked formally, though I could see she already knew the answer.
Whispers erupted around us. An objection would force the ceremony to halt, would demand a council meeting to resolve the dispute. It would create precisely the kind of scandal Lady Vela and Rovan had been trying to avoid.
“No,” I replied, my voice carrying across the clearing. “I come to finish what he started.”
The whispers intensified. Confusion spread across faces. Rovan took a half-step toward me before catching himself.
I turned to face him fully, letting the hood of my cloak fall back so he could see my face, could see the absolute certainty in my eyes.
“Slyra,” he said, my name barely audible, a warning or a plea, I couldn’t tell which.
“Rovan Dareth,” I said clearly, using his full name, “under the eyes of the Moon Goddess, I reject the mate bond forged between us.”
Gasps echoed through the gathering. The rejection ritual was ancient, rarely invoked—and never without grave cause. Lady Vela’s face drained of color. Even Neressa looked shocked.
“Slyra, don’t—” Rovan started, his voice strained.
I continued, speaking the ritual words that I had practiced until they flowed like poison from my lips. “I sever our souls. I renounce our tie. You are no longer mine.”
Power surged between us, tangible, electric, as the mate bond began to unravel. I felt it like a physical tearing inside my chest, a pain so acute it nearly drove me to my knees. But I remained standing, feeding on the shock and horror spreading across Rovan’s face.
He wasn’t so composed now. He fell to his knees, clutching his chest as if something had torn inside him—which it had. Our bond, ripping apart fiber by fiber. His wolf howled inside his mind—I could feel the echo of it across our rapidly dissolving connection, a sharp, echoing sound of loss and pain.
“Sylra, wait—” he choked, eyes glassy with agony, one hand outstretched toward me.
I stepped back, beyond his reach. “You chose another,” I said, each word precise and cutting. “Now live with it.”
The moon flared brighter overhead, impossibly, gloriously bright, as if the Goddess herself was acknowledging my choice, accepting my rejection of the bond, as the crowd stood frozen.
