Zylia's POV "Who's there?" My voice came out thin and trembling. No one answered. I only heard the breeze of Dey leaves. I pressed my back to a tree trunk and clutched my bag to my chest like my life depended on it. And I could say, right now, it really did. My knuckles turned white, and legs felt rooted to the ground, as if it did not want me to move. Something moved in the darkness, really fast, my eyes only caught a shape that resolved into a man. Then it turned into two. I caught a scent of rags and sweat. It wasn't of a pack. It was... Rogues. My mouth went dry. I tried to turn, to run, but my feet would not. "Please," I said. "I don't want trouble. I'll go. I'll.." One of them laughed, soft and mean. "Look what the moon spat out. An Alpha's toy." He circled me slowly, his arms folded, his eyes dangerous."All alone....How easy.....must be our lucky night" The other crouched and grinned at me. "Pretty thing. Come on, don't be shy." "Leave me," I whispered, backing until the trunk stopped me. The bag dug into my ribs; I could feel every bruise from the guards' rough hands. My throat burned from the urge to burst into tears. The taller rogue reached out. His hand was close enough to brush my sleeve. "Not so fast." He leaned in, so did the smell of dust. "We'll have some fun, won't we?" His hands brushed my cheeks. I was cornered by both wolves. I couldn't escape, even if I wanted to. I shut my eyes. My mind flashed back to Killian's voice, the priestess, Lilith's smile. "Please," I whispered again. "Just... let me go." "You reek of the Alpha's bond," The taller one muttered to the other. "He's gone," the shorter man said. "The Alpha threw her out. No one cares." "You idiots," hissed a new voice from the trees, low and sharp. It wasn't rogue laughing, nor was it humane. It cut through the air like a blade. The rogues startled. The taller one spun, jaw working. "Who....?" Something huge moved in the darkness. I felt it before I saw it: the air shifted, like a tide changing. A wolf exhaled nearby, long and low. The rogue's grin faltered. "We should leave. Now." He stepped back. They ran as fast as they could. A shape stepped into the clearing now. Broad shoulders, shadowed face, the kind of presence that made breath catch. He moved with the silence of a predator and the ease of a man who owned the dark. He crouched near me, not touching, an arm resting on his knee. His eyes were too bright in the moon, and they measured me like a market buyer. "You shouldn't walk packlands at night, little one." I swallowed. "Who are you?" He let out a chuckel. "A dangerous thing to ask in the Wildlands." He straightened. "Name's Mason." Mason looked at me like a curious animal. "You smell like a bond and trouble," he said. "Alpha's mark still clings to you." My chest tightened. "I..." I bit my lip. "Claimed," he interrupted me, his gaze fixed on mine."Then cast off." His mouth curved. "Poor thing." He touched my chin with care, and then lifted my face to get a closer look. His hands were soft and warm. For a moment there, I could've sworn he was human. His gaze lingered "You're hurt," I checked myself, "Do I have a bruise...or injury?" He chuckled, "Not that type of hurt," He let go as if the touch had burned him. He was talking about my rejection. "Oh..." "Come. Sit." He pointed at the log I had been on and bowed his head in a mock of courtesy. I slid down, hugging my bag to my chest. "Why are you....why are you so nice to me?" He shrugged. "We're not saints. But we don't like thieves. Rogues have rules." He studied my face, and his voice went low. "And I like to know who walks my woods." "You saved me," I said. The words sounded small and ugly next to the memory of Killian's rejection. "Why?" Mason's jaw worked. "Because you're interesting." He paused as if testing the word for weight. "Because you weren't just some weeping thing. You didn't scream. You didn't beg like the others. You looked like you carried more shame than fear." I flinched. "Shame is all I have left." "Maybe." He cocked his head. "Or maybe it's something else. Something the pack hated enough to spit out." He sat across from me on the same log. It was getting quite dark so he lit a flame. The light made his eyes seem amber. "Tell me what happened," he said plainly. "I'm...not" "It's fine, you don't have to say it if you're not comfortable," He said after he saw how I struggled getting the words out. "Thank you," I said, my voice low. Silence drew between us for a while. I swallowed. The story came out in jagged breaths, the hall, the priestess, Killian's hand, the moment he took it, the way it had felt when he claimed me, and then how he had thrown me away. Mason listened, unblinking. At the end he whistled, low. "Oof." It could have been pity. It could have been greed. I couldn't tell. "So," he said, stirring the fire with a stick, "you have half a bond and all the trouble." "It should have been forever," I whispered. "It was supposed to be my place." He looked at me, not too soft or too cruel face, "Lots of things were supposed to be. The world doesn't care for supposed." "But you?" I asked, the question reckless. "Why do you care?" Mason's lips twitched. "I don't. Not really." He blew on the coals, and the embers flared. "But tonight I felt like showing up. Maybe because I don't like other men thinking they can take and then toss what they want." He flicked his gaze to the trees as if expecting someone to appear. A cold breath escaped my lips. "Can I....can I go back with you?" My voice trembled. He leaned forward. "I'm not a savior Zylia. I won't carry you home." He paused, "But I won't let you be eaten by rogues tonight." Relief crashed into me so hard I could not speak. He pushed to his feet. "Stay near me," he ordered softly. "I have camp not far." He stuffed the last of the kindling into his pocket and started to walk, not looking back. I fumbled to my feet, bag heavy on my shoulder, and stumbled after him. "Who are you really?" I asked, keeping pace so I wouldn't lose him in the dark. Mason glanced over his shoulder. A dangerous smirk appeared on his face, "Someone who likes to know things." Then softer, almost private: "And someone who hates being told what to think." We moved into the trees, and the small fire we left died to gray ash. The woods swallowed our footsteps, but not the drum of my heart. I walked with Mason because at that moment, anything that moved with me felt better than standing still in the place where they had thrown me away. Behind us, hidden in the black, eyes watched. And one voice, closer than the rest, whispered a name I'd only ever heard in the hall. "Killian," it breathed, and then silence.

Killian's POV I stormed out of the ballroom with my hands clenched and my chest heaving what annoyance. Everything had turned so fast I could hardly understand it. I had claimed Zylia in front of everyone, I had felt the bond settle between us, and then the priestess had spoken, and I had torn it all apart with my own words. The music and voices faded behind me as I walked down the corridor and I didn't care that people moved out of my way; I just needed to be alone. My heart hurt, and my anger burned painfully as I pushed open the door to my chambers and stepped inside with Lilith right behind me. "Killian, wait," she said softly, but I slammed the door before she could step in, with the wood shook under the force. "I don't want company," I said through the closed door. For a moment, I stood there, staring at the door as if it could stop all the noise in my head, and then I went to the window and threw it open, letting Moonlight pour over the room. I leaned on the frame and tried to breathe. The priestess's words still rang in my ears. Was she really going to betray me? I can't be sure but she didn't look like someone who would. I thought of the dreams that had woken me for weeks now, with smoke over the valley and wolves fighting and falling with blood on the stones of the courtyard. I had tried to push them away, but they kept coming, and tonight the priestess had spoken of the same doom. I pressed my hands to my face. "Moon goddess, why?" I whispered. "Why give her to me and then rip her away?" Time passed silently and I didn't know how long I stood there until a knock sounded. "My Alpha," Lucien's voice came through the door. "It's me." I opened the door and let him in. Beta Lucien stepped inside and closed it quietly behind him. "She's gone," he said. "I made sure she was escorted out of the territory. Just as the priestess ordered." I sat down on the edge of the bed and shook my head. "It's not right, Lucien. None of this is right." He stayed silent, waiting. "Why would the moon goddess show me she's my mate and then take her away?" I asked. "Why put her in front of me only to say she's a curse and a betrayal?" Lucien crossed the room and stood near the fireplace. "The ways of the goddess are not for us to understand," he said gently. "She sees more than we can." "That doesn't help," I muttered. "I sent her out there like she was nothing. I look like a monster. It's like I lured her here only to hurt her." I felt tears sting my eyes, and I tried to swallow them back, but they came anyway, so I bowed my head. "I knew I'd love her," I said quietly. "I didn't want to admit it, but I do. Since the time I saw at the dinner hall, dirty and trying to hide from everyone, I knew she was the one for me." Lucien's eyes softened. "I don't feel anything for the other girls," I went on. "I've tried. I've looked at every girl the council brought to me, but Nothing, only her." Beta Lucien laid a hand on my shoulder. "I know, Alpha Killian. I saw the way you looked at her. But you did what you thought would save the pack." I nodded, though my heart didn't agree. "Rest a little," Beta Lucien said after a pause. "I'll keep the guards on alert tonight." "Thank you," I said. He left quietly, and I sat there in the silence, staring at the floor in mystery. Another knock came later, and I thought Lucien had returned, but when I opened the door, Lilith stood there. She wore a thin silk robe that clung tightly to her body, and her hair fell over her shoulders, and her lips curved in a small smile. "Killian," she said softly. "You shouldn't be alone tonight." I stepped back. "Luna Lilith, you need to go back to your room." I growled. She slid inside before I could stop her, and the robe shifted, showing too much skin as she came closer. "You're hurting," she whispered. "You don't need to think about that omega wench anymore. She was trouble from the start." "Don't call her that," I snapped. Lilith placed a hand on my chest. "You need comfort," she said. "I can give you that." She leaned closer with her fingers drawing a faint line on my chest. "Stop," I said, stepping back. "Killian," she said softly, "you're an Alpha. You deserve someone strong beside you, not a betrayal that will ruin your pack." Her words made anger rise in me. "Get out," I said. She blinked, still smiling faintly. "You don't mean that." "I do," I said firmly. "Leave my room, Lilith. At this instant." Her smile faded, and she tossed her hair and turned for the door. "Fine," she said. "But sooner or later you'll see I'm the right choice." I didn't sleep much that night, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Zylia's face as the guards led her away. Morning finally came, and I changed into running clothes and left the pack house alone. I needed to clear my head. I ran until my breath came fast and the ache in my muscles drowned out the ache in my heart, and when I returned to the pack house, the sun was already up and Beta Lucien waited by the front steps gravely. "What now?" I asked, wiping sweat from my brow. "There's unrest on the council," he said. "They met this morning, and apparently, they're worried about last night. They say an Alpha who claims an omega and then rejects her in front of everyone is a risk." I frowned. "A risk?" "They want you to choose a proper mate soon," Mason said. "If you don't, they might try to impeach you." My hands curled at my sides. "A proper mate," I repeated. "What does that even mean to them?" "They think the best choice is Lilith. She should've been your Luna," Lucien said slowly. "She has status. She's from the Crestwood Pack. A union would calm them." I let out a scoff. "Lilith," I said. "Of course it has to be her..!"

Zylia's POV

The forest seemed endless.

We had been walking miles and miles and it didn't look like the other was going to end soon.

Branches clawed at my hair as I followed Mason deeper into the dark. His steps were silent, confident, like the night knew him. Mine weren't. Every twig I broke sounded like an apology.

The packlands were long behind me now. Each breath I took out here tasted like betrayal, sharp and cold.

"Keep up," Mason muttered without looking back.

"I'm trying," I said, clutching the strap of my bag tighter.

"Then try harder."

I bit my tongue. He wasn't cruel, just blunt, a man made of rough edges and solitude.

"Can you slow down a bit," my feet dragged as I tried to catch my breath.

Mason turned slowly, his chest heaving out of frustration.

"This is the slowest I can walk Zylia. You chose to follow me."

"Just...please," I bent slightly, my palms resting on my knees.

"Five minutes, Zylia. Five minutes." He said.

"Thank you," I said, resting my back on a tree.

He didn't budge. He stood alert like he was ready to go to war.

"Rest a little." I said, tapping a spot beside me.

"Your time's up." He growled.

I could've sworn I didn't use a second out of the time he gave me.

We climbed over a fallen tree, and I stumbled when my boot caught on a root. Mason reached out instinctively, steadying me by the arm. His grip was firm, warm, grounding. Then, almost too quickly, he let go.

"Watch where you're going," he said, voice softer than before.

"I said I'm trying," I mumbled.

A ghost of a smirk crossed his lips. "You talk too much for someone who's scared."

"I'm not scared."

He raised a brow. "Sure."

We walked until the trees thinned into a clearing lit by pale moonlight. Shapes moved in the shadows, men and women with hard eyes and torn clothes. Rogues.

The air changed, heavy with smoke, blood, and something feral. My wolf shrank inside me.

Mason stopped at the edge of the clearing. "Welcome to nowhere," he said.

Dozens of gazes turned our way. Conversations fell silent. The camp smelled of wet fur, cheap whiskey, and desperation.

"Who's the stray?" a voice called from near the fire.

Mason didn't answer.

"She's pack," another sneered. "You bringin' us Silverclaw's trash now, Mason?"

My throat went dry.

"She's with me," Mason said simply. His tone was enough to make most of them look away.

"Didn't know you were babysitting now," someone muttered.

Mason shot him a glare sharp enough to silence him. "Didn't ask what you knew."

He turned back to me. "You can rest there." He pointed to a half-collapsed tent near the dying fire.

I hesitated. "And you?"

"I've got my own corner of hell." He walked off before I could say thank you.

The tent smelled of smoke and rain-soaked fabric. I dropped my bag inside and sat on the cold ground, hugging my knees. The fabric was torn enough to let in threads of moonlight.

Outside, laughter broke the night, rough, dangerous. Someone shouted, then a thud, a snarl.

This was nothing like the packlands. There were no rules here, no Luna to keep order. Just survival.

I pressed my forehead against my arms and tried not to cry.

You wanted to belong.

I reminded myself. And now, no one wants you.

***

I don't know when sleep took me.

But when I opened my eyes, I wasn't in the tent anymore.

Silver light surrounded me, liquid and endless. The air shimmered like water, and somewhere in the distance, a low hum rose,  a melody that felt older than time.

I turned, heart pounding. The forest was gone. So was the pain.

A woman stood before me, her hair flowing like moonlight, her eyes deep and endless.

The Moon Goddess.

Her voice was soft, layered, like many voices speaking through one. "Child of flame," she whispered. "Not all prophecies speak truth. Some speak choice."

My mouth parted. "I don't... I don't understand, Moon Goddess."

"You will." She reached out, her touch brushing my cheek. Warm. Real. "You were born to balance light and dark. To choose what others fear to face."

Then the world erupted.

Silver fire burst around me, alive, whispering, dancing at the rhythm of my breath. I raised my hands and the flames followed like they knew my soul.

"Why me?" I asked, voice breaking.

Her eyes glowed brighter. "Because you were never meant to be weak."

And then she vanished.

I woke with a gasp.

The tent was cold again, the night pressing in. My palms glowed faintly, silver threads flickering across my skin before fading. I stared, shaking.

It had to be a dream. It had to be.

Outside, voices rose, tense, hushed.

"Mason, you'd better come see this!" someone shouted.

I froze, crawling toward the tent flap. Through the gap, I saw the rogues gathered near the edge of camp. Mason stood among them, looking down at something on the ground, something that made even him go still.

The moonlight caught the glint of it.

A strange sigil.

My heart stopped....

What was that?