The Discarded Mate

For five years, I wore a ring the Moon refused to acknowledge. No sacred bond. No blessing. Just a flimsy contract from Lucien, Alpha of Darkmoor, and the same promise every time: when the pack is steady.

Five winters passed. The Moon stayed silent.

When I finally asked again—hands shaking, hope foolish—he didn’t even look at me.

“Why?” he scoffed. “You carry my mark. Ceremonies are for wolves who doubt themselves.”

“But you said—”

“Enough. You’re being immature, Arwen Moonscar.”

Like always, I swallowed the hurt. Like always… except this time.

I bought moon-lilies—his favorite—to honor the day alone. But as I passed the Pack Hall, something inside me screamed to stop.

That’s when I saw them.

Lucien. And Evelyn. My sister. Supposedly dead.

She stood beside him, glowing, clutching a freshly sealed bond certificate as he cradled her face.

“I’ll get rid of Arwen soon,” he murmured.

Then my brothers appeared, laughing, already planning my erasure.

I ran—until hooves struck, pain ripped through me, and the world went black.

But the Moon does not break those meant to rise. From blood and betrayal, power awakens.

I am no longer the hunted. I am the storm they should have feared.