SIERRA'S POV

I couldn't beat it anymore, the humiliation, the disdain, the mockery, the rejection, so i packed what I could and by the time the first pale light crept over the ridge, I was already walking.

The pack lands stretched behind me, gray roofs, the faint glint of the training grounds, smoke rising from early morning fires. From here, they looked almost peaceful. But I knew better. Beneath that quiet was a hunger, a cruelty that thrived on weakness. And after last night, after him, I was the weakest thing alive.

The grass was still damp beneath my bare feet. I didn’t care. Each step away from the packhouse felt like breathing again, like maybe I could scrape off the shame clinging to my skin.

But shame doesn’t wash off. It burns.

It burns hotter than tears.

Every whisper, every laugh from the night before echoed in my head. Bethelina ’s voice, sweet and venomous,still slithered through my thoughts. Did you really think the Moon’s mistake could make you his equal?

I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms.

The Moon’s mistake.

That was what they were calling me now.

The cursed omega. The rejected mate. The one who dared to stand beneath the Goddess’s light and make their Alpha look weak.

They didn’t know the truth,that I hadn’t wanted any of this. I hadn’t wanted to be chosen. I hadn’t wanted him.

Or maybe I had. Maybe a small, foolish part of me had wanted it so badly that the Moon herself had heard me.

Now I wished She hadn’t.

A cold wind swept through the trees, lifting my hair, and I stopped at the edge of the forest. Beyond this point was the border, the invisible line that marked the end of Moonbane territory. Past it was wilderness and danger, rogues and loners. Crossing it without permission was exile.

But the thought didn’t scare me.

What scared me was staying.

I took another step, my breath coming out in clouds. My wolf was still silent inside me, no comfort, no warmth. Just emptiness. The rejection had torn her apart, and the silence she left behind was louder than any scream.

Still, sometimes in that silence, I thought I heard her whimper.

Sierra… don’t…

I stopped.

The tug hit me then.

Faint at first, like a thread pulling at the edge of my soul. Then stronger,sharp, insistent.

The bond.

Even shattered, it was still there. A ghost connection, something the rejection couldn’t completely kill. It thrummed low in my chest, pulling me back toward the heart of the pack. Toward him.

I gritted my teeth. “No.”

But the pull didn’t care.

It came again,a pulse that wasn’t mine. Anger. Restlessness. The pacing of a caged animal.

Him.

I could feel him. Alpha Isaak.

The moment I realized it, my knees almost buckled. The sensation was faint but unmistakable, his emotions brushing against mine like sparks off stone. Rage, tightly leashed. Frustration. Guilt buried under fury.

I pressed a trembling hand to my chest. “Stop it,” I whispered. “You rejected me. You don’t get to feel me anymore.”

But my body didn’t listen. The mark over my heart,once glowing silver,flared dully, throbbing with every beat.

Through that connection, I saw flashes. Shadows. His pacing steps across the Alpha’s quarters. The tension in his shoulders. The scent of smoke and steel.

He was angry. Not just at me,at himself.

And still, despite everything, my heart ached for him.

That was the cruelest part.

Even in rejection, my soul still sought his.

The bond that should have died still reached for him, like a root refusing to stop growing through stone. Every time I tried to push him away, my chest burned in protest.

I pressed my forehead to a tree and squeezed my eyes shut. “Please… let me go.”

For a moment, it felt like the forest was listening. The morning breeze whispered through the leaves, soft and distant, carrying the faint scent of pine and moonflower.

Then the pull came again,sharper, angrier.

My breath hitched as his emotions hit harder. His wolf was restless, prowling beneath his skin. I could feel the growl building in his chest, could almost hear it.

He was fighting it. Fighting us.

And gods help me, some part of me wanted to reach for him, to soothe him, to tell him I understood, that I didn’t want this bond any more than he did.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.

I stumbled backward, my back hitting the tree trunk. “You rejected me,” I whispered through clenched teeth. “You don’t get to feel me. You don’t get to own me.”

The tug only tightened.

Pain spiked through my ribs, sharp and bright, as if the bond itself was punishing me for resisting. I gasped, sliding down to my knees.

A growl, his growl, echoed faintly in my mind, low and furious. My body trembled in response, instinctive submission rising before I crushed it down.

“No,” I breathed, voice shaking. “I won’t bow to you. Not anymore.”

The connection flared hot, then went silent.

I sagged against the tree, heart pounding. The pain lingered, but the pull faded, retreating like a tide.

The sudden emptiness made me dizzy. I realized I was crying only when the tears hit the dirt.

I didn’t know how long I stayed there, minutes, maybe hours,just breathing, just trying to remember how to exist without him inside my head.

When I finally stood again, the sun had begun to rise over the mountains, painting the sky in pale gold.

The world looked beautiful. And it hurt.

Because beauty shouldn’t exist in a world that could break you so completely.

I started walking again, this time slower. The edge of the territory was near,a shallow stream marking the border, its surface glinting like liquid glass.

Crossing it meant no pack, no protection, no future. But staying meant humiliation, pity, the constant reminder of his rejection.

My choice should have been easy.

But the bond wouldn’t let me move. Every step closer to the border made the mark on my chest burn hotter, sharper, as if it were warning me: You can leave the pack, but you can’t leave him.

I laughed then, a bitter, broken sound. “So that’s my curse, isn’t it?”

The wind answered with silence.

I sank down beside the stream, drawing my knees to my chest. My reflection stared back, pale skin, hollow eyes, the faint shimmer of the bond’s remnants like silver dust across my collarbone.

I looked like a ghost.

No, worse. I looked like a wolf who’d lost her soul.

I dipped my fingers into the water, watching ripples distort my face. “The Goddess chose me,” I whispered. “And He called it a mistake.”

The words tasted like ashes.

I wanted to scream at the sky, to demand why She had done this. Why me? Why him? Why gift me a bond that only brought pain?

But the Moon was silent. She always was.

Behind me, I heard the sound of distant footsteps, racing towards me.

SIERRA'S POV

The footsteps grew louder and then his scent hit me. My heart stumbled in my chest.

No. Not now.

I turned, but it was too late. He was already there.

Alpha Isaak.

Even in the darkness, he looked carved from something untouchable, broad shoulders tense, jaw hard, silver eyes gleaming like a blade in the stormlight. His presence burned through the night like fire through frost.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The distance between us felt alive, thrumming with power and something darker.

Then he broke it.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” His voice cut through with fury barely held in check.

My throat went dry. “Leaving.”

He took a step forward. “You think you can just walk out of my territory?”

“I’m not yours to command,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “You made that very clear last night.”

The words hung there, sharp as claws. His jaw tightened.

Lightning cracked overhead, followed by a small drizzle. For an instant, his eyes looked almost feral, his wolf pushing just beneath the surface.

“You don’t get to play the victim here, omega,” he said, his tone hard but his gaze flickering. “You think running away will fix this? That it’ll make me accept you?”

I laughed, a sound more brittle than amused. “I don't expect you to.”

His eyes darkened. “Watch your tongue.”

“No.” My voice rose, raw and unrestrained. “You don’t get to silence me anymore. You rejected me in front of the entire pack, called me unworthy. And now you follow me here to what? Remind me of my place?”

He flinched. Enough for me to see the crack behind the mask.

But then his face hardened again. “You are a curse,” he said coldly. “A trick from the Goddess meant to humiliate me. She put you in my path to test me, and I won’t fall for Her cruelty.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

The rain seemed to stop around us, the world narrowing to his voice.

A curse.

That was what he saw when he looked at me.

Not a woman. Not a mate. Just a punishment.

My chest burned, that invisible thread between us flaring with pain. I took a step toward him, my voice shaking. “You think so little of Her? Of fate?”

He bared his teeth, his control splintering. “Don’t speak of fate. Don’t speak of things you don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you ever will,” I shot back. “You think the Moon would bind us for nothing? You think She made a mistake just because your pride can’t bear the thought of an omega being your equal?”

His nostrils flared. “You think you’re my equal?”

“I think I was meant to be!” I shouted, the words ripping out of me before I could stop them. “But you’re too blind to see it! Too proud, too scared of what it means that the Goddess didn’t choose some perfect Luna with Alpha blood, but me.”

He growled, the sound vibrating through the air. His wolf was close now, I could feel it.

“You don’t know what it means to bear my mark,” he said, stepping closer. The rain beaded on his skin, his breath hot against the cold night air. “You don’t know what it means to carry the weight of a pack, the burden of blood. You wouldn’t survive a day in my place.”

“You would've made sure if that, wouldn't you?” I whispered, meeting his gaze.

The words landed like a strike.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The only sound was the storm, wind tearing through the trees, thunder rolling like the heartbeat of something ancient.

And beneath it all, the bond hummed. It pulsed between us. Every emotion he tried to bury, anger, guilt, desire, bled through.

It hurt. Gods, it hurt.

Because even now, I could feel the part of him that still wanted me.

And worse, the part of me that wanted him back.

Lightning split the sky again, throwing our faces into sharp relief. His eyes locked on mine, pupils blown wide. For an instant, the fury cracked, replaced by something hungrier, deeper.

He took another step forward. I should have moved back. I didn’t.

The air between us vibrated. My wolf stirred weakly inside me for the first time in days, her voice trembling but alive.

I swallowed hard. “Why did you come after me, Isaak?”

He didn’t answer right away. The muscles in his jaw worked, his hands flexing at his sides.

Finally, he said, “Because I can’t,” He broke off, eyes flashing as he turned his head away. “Because I can’t let you leave. Not like this.”

My chest tightened. “You mean, not with everyone knowing your Luna ran away.”

His gaze snapped back to me, sharp as a blade. “Don’t twist my words.”

“Then say what you mean,” I demanded. “If I’m a curse, if you don’t want me, then let me go.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

The silence stretched until I thought I might break from it.

Then he whispered, almost too low to hear, “I tried.”

His emotions crashed through the connection, rage, confusion, desire so fierce it burned. His wolf was howling inside him, and through that echo, I could feel my own stir in answer.

The world tilted. The rain blurred around us.

He took a step closer. Then another. Until the heat of him reached me through the storm, until I could see the rain sliding down his throat, could hear the rough hitch of his breathing.

“Stop,” I whispered. “Don’t do this.”

But he didn’t stop.

His hand came up and brushed my cheek. The touch burned. My breath caught and I leaned into it.

For one wild heartbeat, the bond roared to life, silver fire racing through my veins, every nerve alight. I felt his heart hammering through the connection, the same frantic rhythm as mine.

He leaned closer, voice rough and low. “Tell me to stop.”

I wanted to. Goddess, I wanted to. But the truth was there between us, shimmering in the rain.

“I hate you,” I whispered instead.

The distance between us vanished.

His mouth crashed against mine and for a moment, there was no rain, no border, no pack. Just him. Just us.

And then I broke away, gasping.

The connection snapped like a whip, flooding both of us with pain. He staggered back, his hand still half-raised as if he didn’t understand what he’d done.

I pressed a hand to my chest, the mark beneath my skin pulsing weakly. “I can't do this,” I choked out.

He didn’t answer. He just stood there, drenched, chest heaving, eyes wild with something I couldn’t name.

Finally, I said, “You call me a curse? Maybe you’re right. But if I am, then what are you doing here? Why are you here?”

And before he could speak, before the bond could drag me back toward him again, I turned and continued walking.

Behind me, I thought I heard his voice, maybe even my name, but I didn’t look back, because if I did, I wasn’t sure I’d have the strength to keep walking.

SIERRA'S POV

I told myself I’d leave before dawn, but I hadn’t moved far, not when I could still feel him.

Even with the distance between us, the bond thrummed faintly under my skin. I tried to ignore it, to drown it under the sound of rain, but it was like trying to forget how to breathe. His presence clung to the edges of my thoughts.

Isaak.

The crack of a branch behind me didn’t surprise me since I knew he was following. His scent hit a heartbeat later and my heart betrayed me with its skip.

“I told you to stay away,” I said, barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer. I could hear his growl even through the rain. When I turned, the world seemed to tilt. He stood just a few feet away, rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead, his shirt clinging to muscle and scar. His eyes burned that impossible silver, bright even through the darkness.

“I couldn’t,” he said finally. “Every step I take away from you hurts.”

I laughed, but it cracked with venom. “Please.”

He kept moving toward me, slow enough that I could have run. I backed up until the bark of the tree pressed against my shoulders.

The distance vanished. His heat wrapped around me before he even touched me, and when his fingers brushed a raindrop from my jaw, the bond came alive with a spark that traveled through me like lightning.

“This isn’t right,” I said, but even as the words left me, my hands rose of their own accord, fingers catching in his soaked shirt.

He nodded once, jaw tight. “No. It’s not.”

And still, he didn’t move away.

When his hand cupped my neck, the contact stole my breath. My wolf stirred beneath my skin, not in pain but recognition, whispering the word I refused to say.

Mine.

His thumb stroked the hollow of my throat, feeling the hammer of my pulse. My body betrayed me entirely, arching toward him, desperate for a closeness I swore I didn’t want. His other hand slid to my waist, fingers gripping, dragging me forward until my chest brushed his. The rain hissed between us, the heat of our skin steaming against the chill.

He dipped his head. The first brush of his lips was hesitant, then something in both of us broke.

The kiss hit like a storm. His mouth crashed into mine, hungry, wet, tasting of rain and salt and every swallowed word between us. I gasped against him as his hands pulled me closer, molding me against the hard lines of his body. I could feel every heartbeat, every tremor, the strength he used to hold himself back.

But restraint burned fast.

When his tongue slid past my lips, the kiss deepened, our breath mingling in needy bursts. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him growl, a low, animal sound that vibrated against my mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice breaking on the word. “Ari,”

My name was a plea.

He pressed me back into the tree, hips aligning with mine, the evidence of his want hard and insistent through soaked fabric. I arched against him, the friction sending a desperate shudder through me.

His hand slid down, cupping my thigh, lifting it until I was half-wrapped around him. The move stole the last of my balance, forcing me to cling to him. The bark scraped against my back; his body was hot against the cold.

He kissed me again until all that existed was breath and heat and the pulse between us. The rain plastered our clothes to our skin, every contour visible, every movement amplified by the slickness of it.

I felt him through the thin layers, thick and hot against my thigh, and the shock of wanting him hit me like lightning. My hips rolled before I could stop them.

He groaned and that sound undid me.

His hand slid under my shirt, palm dragging up over my stomach, tracing heat along my ribs. When he reached my breast, I gasped, the sound breaking high and breathless as his thumb brushed the hardened peak. He paused, eyes flicking up to mine, searching for refusal. There was none left in me.

He leaned in, kissed my throat, bit lightly, sucked until I whimpered.

The sound made him shudder. He pushed my shirt up, mouth following, kissing down the curve of my breast, tongue flicking over my nipple before he drew it between his lips. The jolt of pleasure made my knees go weak.

The bond pulsed harder now, our marks glowing faintly where they touched, silver threads of light curling through the rain.

I tugged at his shirt, desperate, clumsy. He pulled it over his head, rain-dark hair clinging to his skin, muscles gleaming. I dragged my hands over his chest, tracing the scars, the heat, the rise and fall of breath. He caught my wrist, pressed my palm flat over his heart. The mark there glowed in sync with mine.

“You feel that?” he said hoarsely.

I nodded, unable to speak.

He kissed me again, softer this time, but it only made the ache worse. Then his hand slid between us,brushing my thigh, and I gasped as his fingers slipped beneath. The contrast of cold rain and the heat of his hand made my whole body arch.

“Isaak,”

“Shh,” he murmured against my ear, “let me.”

His fingers found me slick and the first slow stroke dragged a cry from my throat, “goddess,” My head fell back against the tree, mouth open, rain running over my face as he touched me.

The bond flared wild with each movement, the glow spreading like liquid silver through my veins.

He pressed his forehead to mine, panting. “You drive me insane.”

I gasped, hips trembling against his hand.

His thumb found between my legs, rubbing slow, tight circles until I couldn’t think. The sound of the rain faded into the rhythm of breath and skin. My body clenched around nothing, the edge building faster than I could brace for.

When I came, it was in a rush that stole the air from my lungs. “Isaak,”

He swallowed the sound in another kiss, his hand holding me through every tremor.

Before I could recover, he was unfastening his pants, movements frantic. I barely registered the sound of the zipper over the pounding of blood in my ears. He looked at me once, just once, and I nodded, unable to resist the gravity that had always pulled us together.

He lifted me, my legs wrapping around his waist, the head of his cock pressing against me. The first thrust broke me open with a gasp that echoed through the trees.

He moved slowly at first, each push deeper, harder, until the sound of our bodies blurred with the storm. The rain streamed down our skin, slicking every movement. I clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, panting his name against his throat.

He groaned, a sound that shook against my chest. “You feel, fuck, so good,”

Each thrust sent ripples of silver through the mark at my collarbone. Our rhythm turned desperate, his hips driving me against the tree, the rough bark biting into my back, every ounce of pain twisted into pleasure.

I cried out as another wave hit, my body tightening around him. His rhythm faltered. He groaned my name into my mouth and then he came, until there was nothing left but heat and our ragged breaths.

He dressed me quietly and, using his shirt as a makeshift shirt, pulled me to sit with him against the tree. We stayed like that, our marks glowing faintly in the gray light filtering through the storm. The world had gone still again.

When the last drops fell, he was quiet, pulling me against his chest. Our hearts beat in unison, the bond’s hum soft and tender. For the first time since the rejection, it didn’t hurt.

But I knew it wouldn’t last.

When I finally pulled away, he was already drifting into sleep, exhaustion softening the harsh lines of his face. I watched him, memorizing the impossible softness of that moment.

Quietly, I reached down to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, my throat tightened.

“Forgive me,” I whispered. “But I can’t stay to be your regret.”

The air was sharp with the scent of him, the ache of what we’d done clinging like a bruise.

As I crossed the border, I didn’t look back.

The dawn broke over the trees, pale and clean, washing the forest in silver light. I walked until the scent of him was gone, until all that remained was the sound of my own breathing.