I never dreamed my mating ceremony would feel like a punishment.

The moon hung full and heavy in the sky, casting silver shadows across the stone platform where I stood. My fingers trembled at my sides, but I clenched them into fists. Not because I was cold though the wind bit through the thin fabric of my pale blue dress but because I could feel their eyes on me.

The Shadow Pack.

They watched in complete silence. Not a smile. Not a word of welcome.

I wasn’t one of them. I never would be.

And beside me stood the man who had just become my mate… by contract.

Alpha Derek Blackthorn.

He hadn’t looked at me once since we stepped onto the platform. His face was carved in stone. Hard jaw. Cold eyes. Black clothing that matched the bitterness in his voice when he spoke the mating vow.

“I, Alpha Derek Blackthorn, take Erica Hale as my Luna by oath and duty. May the moon witness our union.”

Oath and duty.

Not love.

Not fate.

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and forced myself to speak clearly.

“I, Erica Hale, take Alpha Derek Blackthorn as my mate and Alpha. May the moon witness our union.”

The Elder, standing between us, nodded. He tied a thin silver chain around our wrists. A shimmer of light passed through it as the bond clicked into place.

It should’ve felt like magic.

It felt like a cage.

Derek yanked his hand back before the Elder finished the blessing.

“It’s done,” he said sharply, already turning to leave.

The crowd began to drift away, murmuring under their breath. No one clapped. No one smiled. I stood there alone on the platform, feeling like I’d just been buried instead of bound.

I was the Luna now.

But only on paper.

The mansion was as silent as the forest graveyard I used to sneak past as a child.

A maid led me through cold hallways and past rooms filled with shadows. She didn’t say a word until we reached a small room tucked far at the end of the east wing.

“This will be your room,” she said without meeting my eyes.

Not the Luna’s quarters. Just a guest room.

The mattress was stiff, the walls bare. No windows. No warmth. Just four walls and a heavy door that shut behind her with a final click.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my hands.

They still trembled.

I tried to call out to the wolf inside me, but as always there was no answer.

No whisper. No movement.

Nothing.

I’d never heard my wolf’s voice. Not once. Most werewolves shifted by twelve. I was twenty-two. That fact alone made me weak in Derek’s eyes.

Broken.

Unworthy.

And yet, here I was… his mate.

Not by choice, of course. My uncle had made the deal offered me up in exchange for protection from rogue attacks. Our bloodline was fading, and I was the last Hale with any wolf left inside, even if she never surfaced.

A Luna without a wolf.

No wonder the pack hated me.

No wonder he hated me.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

I wiped my face quickly, even though I wasn’t crying yet. “Yes?”

The door creaked open, and a familiar face peeked in.

“Erica,” Lyall whispered. “Can I come in?”

I stood so fast the room spun.

“Lyall.”

She rushed in and wrapped her arms around me. Her hug was warm. Real. Familiar.

The only thing in this house that didn’t make me feel like I was drowning.

“I can’t believe they did it like that,” she murmured. “No music. No celebration. Not even a toast.”

I pulled back and gave her a small, tired smile. “It’s fine. I didn’t expect more.”

“You deserve more,” she said firmly. “You always have.”

Lyall had been my best friend since we were girls. She’d grown up in the pack. Gorgeous, confident, quick with a joke. Everyone loved her. Especially the males.

Sometimes, I wondered what would’ve happened if Derek had chosen her instead.

Maybe he had wanted to.

But the moon had chosen me… hadn’t it?

Or maybe fate had just made a terrible mistake.

We snuck into the kitchen that night, just like we used to back home.

Lyall made tea with cinnamon bark and honey my favorite and we sat on the counter, legs swinging like children.

“I know he’s cruel now,” Lyall said softly, “but Derek used to be different. Before his parents were murdered.”

I nodded slowly. “I heard they were poisoned. Wolfsbane, right?”

“Yes.” Her eyes darkened. “Someone slipped it into their wine. The whole pack mourned for days.”

“Do they… know who did it?”

She shook her head. “No. But Derek’s been hunting for the traitor ever since. Obsessed with justice. Or revenge. Depends who you ask.”

I stared down at my tea, the warm scent suddenly bitter.

I didn’t need him to love me. But I wished he didn’t hate me.

“I think he wants to,” I said quietly. “But he can’t. Not when he sees me as a weakness.”

“You’re not weak,” Lyall said, voice sharp. “You’re kind. Strong in ways others can’t see. One day, he’ll see it too.”

I wanted to believe her.

But deep down, I didn’t.

For the next few weeks, I stayed quiet and tried not to be noticed.

I helped the older wolves in the garden. Cleaned up old scrolls in the dusty library. Stayed far from the training grounds, where Derek led fierce drills and never once looked my way.

When I passed him in the halls, he barely acknowledged me.

Sometimes, I caught him looking. Just once or twice.

But whatever he saw in me, it wasn’t good.

“You forgot to bow before the council, Luna,” he snapped one afternoon. “They see it as disrespect.”

I bit my lip. “I wasn’t told”

“You should’ve known.”

He didn’t wait for an apology. Just walked away, his cloak trailing like a shadow behind him.

The bond between us felt colder with each passing day.

Dead.

Like me.

The accusation came on a quiet morning.

I was helping the healer sort dried herbs in the apothecary. The scent of lavender and sage hung in the air. It was peaceful. The first peace I’d felt in weeks.

Then the door slammed open.

Beta Marcus stormed in, followed by two guards.

“Luna Erica,” he barked. “You are under arrest for the murder of Alpha Caleb and Luna Reina.”

I froze. “What…?”

He held up a silver vial.

“This was found hidden in your room. Wolfsbane. The same kind that killed them.”

My mouth went dry.

“I—I’ve never seen that before. I didn’t do anything!”

“The council will decide. Come with us.”

The guards seized me roughly. I stumbled, crying out, but they didn’t stop.

Outside, the pack had already gathered.

They knew.

They believed it.

“Murderer!”

“Traitor!”

“She poisoned the Alpha’s parents!”

“No please” My voice cracked. “You have the wrong person!”

And then I saw him.

Derek.

He stood tall at the head of the courtyard. His face pale, his jaw set in stone.

I searched his eyes for a flicker of doubt.

Anything.

But his voice was cold when he spoke.

“You were supposed to bring peace,” he said. “Instead, you brought death.”

The words cut deeper than the chains they placed on my wrists.

“I didn’t kill them!” I begged.

Derek looked away.

“Erica Hale,” he declared, “you are hereby stripped of your Luna title and exiled from the Shadow Pack. You are banished forever.”

“No please, Derek listen to me!”

But the guards dragged me out, kicking and screaming, while the only man I was bound to by fate turned his back on me.

They left me at the edge of the woods.

Beyond the pack’s border.

Beyond protection.

Banished.

The cold hit me first. Then the silence.

Then the heartbreak.

I dropped to my knees and screamed into the night, the sound swallowed by trees that didn’t care.

Tears blurred the stars above me. My chest burned. My hands scraped against the dirt.

“Why?!” I sobbed. “Why is this happening to me?!”

Then… something stirred.

Not in the forest.

Inside me.

A sound.

A growl.

It rose low and deep from my chest. My bones ached. My breath caught.

I froze.

“...You…?”

For the first time in my life, my wolf stirred.

Not fully awake. Not yet.

But she was there.

Alive.

And angry.

I used to believe the worst pain was heartbreak.

But pain has levels.

And banishment? That cuts deeper.

The wind howled as I stumbled through the forest, cold needles of rain piercing my skin. My once beautiful dress was now soaked and ripped, clinging to my body like a second skin. My shoes were long gone. My feet bled, torn open by sharp stones and roots.

The guards hadn’t looked back when they dragged me to the border.

Their final words echoed in my head:

"You step past this line, you're no longer part of the Shadow Pack. You’re nothing. No one will protect you."

And Alpha Derek?

He hadn’t even come to watch me fall.

I kept walking.

Not because I had strength.

But because I didn’t want to die right there on the same soil that had once called me Luna.

I didn’t know where I was heading. The trees blurred together in the downpour. My body shook with exhaustion. Hunger gnawed at my stomach. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast—my last meal as Luna.

Everything about that morning had felt normal. I smiled at the maids. Kissed Derek’s cheek even though he flinched away. Tried to act like the bond between us wasn’t broken glass.

By nightfall, I was on my knees, vomiting bile into the wet leaves.

I found a cave. Small, damp, and reeking of something dead.

I didn’t care.

I crawled inside and collapsed.

For the first time in days, I let myself cry.

Not the quiet tears I’d mastered over the years. Not the soft weeping I hid in my pillow.

No.

This was ugly, body-shaking grief.

“I didn’t do it,” I whispered, over and over. “I didn’t kill them.”

But no one was there to hear me.

Not Derek.

Not my wolf.

Not even the Goddess.

Just the echo of my guilt. And the gnawing thought that maybe I had deserved it all for being so... weak.

The next morning, I woke up cold. A different kind. It crawled into my bones and whispered: You won’t survive the week.

I believed it.

My fingers were stiff. My skinpale. My lips cracked and were bleeding. I tried to stand and nearly collapsed. My body no longer obeyed me.

I remembered the stories the elders used to tell of wolves banished for crimes they didn’t commit, eaten by rogues or driven mad by isolation.

I never thought I’d become one of those stories.

I laughed. It came out like a cough.

“Perfect Luna,” I said to the empty cave. “Can’t even die with dignity.”

Something rustled outside. My breath caught.

I pressed myself against the wall, too weak to shift, too weak to run.

But nothing came in.

Just the wind.

I was alone again.

Days passed or maybe it was only one. Time blurred when you were starving.

I wandered during the day and collapsed at night.

I ate berries I wasn’t sure were safe. Drank from a muddy stream. Slept curled beneath bushes and low trees, always listening for growls or the snap of a twig.

Every night, I dreamed of Derek.

Of his eyes filled with disgust.

Of his voice as he said, "You disgust me, Erica. You’re not worthy of the title Luna."

I dreamed of his parents, choking, screaming, their bodies jerking as wolfsbane poisoned their blood.

I saw myself in those dreams standing there with a tray, smiling as they died.

I’d wake up gasping, my hands trembling.

“No,” I whispered. “That wasn’t me.”

But a small voice inside me said, Then why did no one believe you?

My wolf was silent.

She had always been silent.

Even after I turned eighteen. Even after the mating bond had clicked in place with Derek.

No voice. No shift. Just a hollow presence inside me, like an empty shell.

People whispered.

They said I was defective.

Derek never said it out loud, but I saw it in his eyes. Disappointment. Shame.

I was the weak mate. Luna without a wolf.

But now… in the quiet of this cursed wilderness… something was stirring.

It started small. A flicker behind my ribs. A whisper just at the edge of hearing.

The first time I felt it, I dropped to my knees, clutching my chest.

It didn’t speak. It didn’t form words.

But it was there.

Watching.

Waiting.

Hungry.

On the sixth night, I found a lake.

Still. Glassy. Surrounded by black rocks and dead trees.

I knelt by the edge and stared at my reflection.

What I saw frightened me.

My bright blue,were now dull, rimmed with purple shadows. My cheeks are hollow. My lips chapped. My long blonde hair hung in clumps, tangled with dirt and leaves.

I looked like a ghost.

I cupped water in my hands and drank.

It was cold and clean.

And as I leaned down again, I saw something behind me in the reflection.

A shadow. Tall. Still.

I spun around but no one was there.

Just trees.

And silence.

Still… I felt it.

Eyes.

Watching me from the dark.

I didn’t sleep that night.

I began talking to myself.

Not out of madness at least, that’s what I told myself.

I just needed to hear a voice.

Even if it was my own.

“They’ll never come looking for you,” I said aloud one morning as I chewed a bitter root. “He probably burned everything that reminded him of you. The sheets. The necklace. Your name.”

It should’ve hurt.

It did hurt.

But I was becoming numb to it.

Maybe numbness was better than pain.

The weather turned colder.

A storm rolled in.

The wind screamed through the trees. Thunder cracked overhead.

I huddled beneath a fallen tree, pulling a blanket of leaves over me like armor.

I thought of my best friend, Lyall.

She hadn’t even shown up at my trial.

We’d grown up together. Shared secrets. Laughed in the garden behind the training field.

I had trusted her with everything.

Even my fears about Derek.

And she’d vanished when I needed her most.

Maybe… she believed I was guilty too.

That thought was worse than any wound.

I didn’t hear the footsteps.

I only felt the breath.

Hot. Wet. Behind my ear.

I froze.

And then… a growl.

Low. Deep.

A rogue.

I didn’t turn.

Didn’t scream.

I simply closed my eyes.

Let it end. Please.

But something moved inside me.

A surge of heat.

Fury.

No.

It wasn’t my thought.

It was hers.

My wolf.

And this time… she wasn’t silent.

The growl came from my throat.

The rogue snarled in reply, circling.

I felt my hands twitch, my muscles tense. My eyes burned.

And then

A scream tore through the forest.

Not mine.

His.

The rogue yelped, then fled, crashing through the undergrowth.

I collapsed, gasping.

My fingers burned.

My body trembled.

And for the first time in my life…

I felt her.

Not just her presence.

But her soul.

Wild.

Angry.

Awake.

I didn’t know how long I lay there afterward.

When I finally sat up, the moon had risen fat and golden above the treetops.

The silence around me felt different now.

Not empty.

Just… waiting.

I stared at my hands, half-expecting claws or fur.

But they were still mine.

Shaking. Dirty. Human.

Still, something had changed.

I wasn’t alone inside anymore.

I wandered again the next day, my legs steadier now, my hunger pushed aside by adrenaline.

I didn’t know what I was searching for.

But I found it.

A scent.

Faint… but familiar.

Not Derek.

Not Lyall.

This one was strange. Musky. Bitter.

And blood.

Fresh blood.

It trailed through the trees, splattered across leaves and rocks.

Something, or someone was wounded.

And I couldn’t explain why…

But I followed it.

Deeper into the woods.

Until I heard the breathing.

Shallow. Ragged.

I crept forward and saw him.

A boy.

Not older than ten.

The boy’s words froze the breath in my chest.

“They’re coming.”

I crouched beside him, scanning the forest. The shadows were long, the wind sharp with the scent of blood and… something else.

Burnt fur.

Rot.

Fear.

“Who’s coming?” I whispered.

He shook his head, tears streaking the dirt on his cheeks. “Bad wolves.”

My stomach twisted.

Rogues.

“Can you move?”

He bit his lip and tried to sit up but gasped and fell back, clutching his leg.

Fractured. Maybe worse.

I didn’t have time to think. If rogues were close, and they caught his scent…

“We have to hide.”

He blinked up at me, eyes wide and wild. “But I don’t know you.”

Fair.

I looked like a ghost, skin bruised, hair a mess, my dress little more than tattered cloth.

“My name is Erica,” I said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to help.”

He hesitated, then gave a shaky nod.

I lifted him gently, gritting my teeth as his weight settled in my arms. He was small, but every muscle in my body screamed in protest.

Still, I carried him.

Because I had to.

Because no one had carried me.

I found shelter in a hollow tree near the creek.

Barely big enough for two, but it was hidden and dry.

I set the boy down carefully and used the last of my sleeve to wrap his leg. He winced, but didn’t cry.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Ren.”

“Ren, where’s your pack?”

His eyes flicked away. “Gone.”

My heart sank. “All of them?”

He nodded slowly. “Ambushed last night. I ran. I didn’t mean to. I just… I got scared.”

Tears welled in his eyes again.

I swallowed hard. “You did the right thing. You survived.”

He didn’t answer.

Outside, the forest quieted. Too quiet.

Even the birds had stopped singing.

I pressed my ear to the bark.

Footsteps.

Slow. Deliberate.

I pulled Ren close, one hand over his mouth, the other ready to fight.

The smell hit me next.

Rotten meat.

Matted fur.

Rogue.

He passed by the tree, tall and thin, bones jutting from his skin like knives. His eyes were glassy, glowing faintly red, lips twisted into a snarl.

He sniffed the air.

My pulse pounded in my ears.

Ren trembled in my arms, but stayed quiet.

The rogue paused. Turned toward our tree.

I held my breath.

Please, no. Not now. Not again.

A crack of thunder rumbled overhead

then a crash in the distance.

The rogue’s head snapped toward the sound.

Another scent must’ve caught his attention.

He ran, limbs jerking, deeper into the trees.

I didn’t move until I could no longer hear him.

Then I exhaled, slowly, and rested my forehead against the bark.

That was too close.

We stayed in the hollow tree until night.

I told Ren stories to keep him calm.

Ones my mother used to tell me before the war, before everything turned to ash.

He listened with wide eyes, chewing on a piece of root I’d dug up earlier.

“Was it true?” he asked. “The story about the moon goddess turning into a wolf to save her mate?”

I smiled faintly. “That’s what they say.”

He leaned against me, eyelids drooping. “I hope she saves you too.”

My throat tightened.

I didn’t reply.

Ren slept.

I didn’t.

I watched the woods, every crack of twig, every gust of wind setting my nerves on edge.

My wolf was stirring again.

Still not speaking.

But watching.

Stronger now.

Awake.

I could feel her heartbeat inside me louder than before.

It matched mine.

And somewhere, deep in the bond that once tied me to Derek, I felt…

A pull.

It didn’t make sense.

He was miles away, surely.

Still leading the pack.

Still hating me.

But the bond wasn’t gone.

Frayed, yes. But not severed.

Why?

Unless he hadn’t rejected me.

Not fully.

Was that even possible?

In the morning, I left Ren in the tree and went to find food.

I followed the stream, catching a rabbit by some miracle and cleaning it with a rock and my nails.

No fire, though. Too risky.

I returned to the tree, only to find Ren staring wide-eyed at something just outside.

A shape stood in the clearing.

Female.

Cloaked.

Eyes glowing faint silver.

She didn’t move when I stepped out.

“Who are you?” I asked.

She tilted her head. “You’ve awakened.”

I blinked. “What?”

“Your wolf,” she said. “She stirs. She knows the truth.”

“What truth?”

But she didn’t answer.

Instead, she stepped forward and placed a small satchel at my feet.

“For the boy.”

Then she disappeared into the trees without a sound.

I opened the bag.

Dried meat. Clean cloth. A small vial of silverleaf salve.

Enough to keep us alive a little longer.

I looked up at the woods where she’d vanished.

Who was she?

Why did she help?

That night, I dreamed of Derek.

He stood in the pack house, rain pouring outside the windows.

Lyall was beside him.

Smiling.

Wearing my necklace.

Touching his arm like she owned him.

And he… let her.

No rage. No guilt.

Just cold acceptance.

The dream shifted.

The image of his dead parents appeared bloodied, eyes open and lifeless on the floor.

Lyall stood over them.

Smiling.

Holding the empty vial.

I woke up screaming.

Ren sat up fast, panicked.

I tried to calm him, but the dream clung to me like vines.

Was it just a dream?

Or

A memory?

No. I hadn’t been there.

But it felt real.

Like my wolf had shown me something she’d seen.

Something that had been hidden.

Lyall.

She was my best friend.

My sister in every way but blood.

She couldn’t have…

Could she?

And if she had…

Why?

The next day was quiet.

Too quiet.

Ren slept most of it, feverish from his injury.

I tended to him with the salve.

But my mind spun.

Why would Lyall frame me?

What did she gain?

Unless… unless she wanted what I had.

The title.

The mate.

The pack.

Derek.

A sick feeling twisted in my gut.

Has she always wanted him?

Has she always envied me?

I thought back so many moments I’d brushed off. Her hesitation when I told her about the mate bond. The way she’d change the subject. The way she’d look at Derek when she thought I wasn’t watching.

I’d been blind.

So foolishly blind.

And now… I was here.

Alone.

While she was there.

With him.

The sun dipped below the trees.

Ren stirred and moaned.

His fever was worse.

He needed help.

Real help.

I couldn’t do this alone anymore.

I stepped out of the hollow, unsure of where to go when a sharp crack split the air.

A twig.

Then another.

I turned fast, heart racing.

Shapes moved between the trees.

Five. Maybe six.

Not rogues.

Too quiet. Too coordinated.

Then I saw the emblem stitched onto one of their sleeves.

Shadow Pack.

And in front of them… leading the way…

Lyall.