Chapter 1

Lyra.

My heart was racing as I faced Damien in the dimly lit room. His blue eyes looked deep into mine, and he knew I was nervous. But I could also see the love and determination in his eyes that had brought us to this moment.

The Shama walked to the side. "Are you sure about this?” His voice was like gravel against a stone. "The Chosen Mate ritual is no joking matter."

I swallowed hard and looked at Damien who gave me a small, reassuring nod then his fingers intertwined with mine.

"We're sure," I said firmly, though my voice betrayed my words. "We've chosen each other, and this is what we want."

Damien's deep voice followed mine. “Our love is worth the risk."

The Shaman nodded his head, his lips curling into a strange smile. "Worth it, you say? We will see about that." A low, unsettling chuckle escaped him as he shuffled toward an altar in the center of the room.

The Shaman beckoned us to come closer.

"Place your hands on the altar," he ordered. "This will bind your souls, and shield you from fate's interference, but..."

I hesitated. My hands pulled back.

"Lyra," Damien whispered, and my gaze met his. "We can do it. Trust me."

I nodded, blowing out a shaky breath. We laid our hands on the cold, rough surface of the altar. The Shaman started chanting in a foreign language, his voice rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm.

The chanting grew to a lower pitch and the Shaman produced a wickedly sharp dagger encrusted with gleaming black stones. "Don't flinch," he warned.

I closed my eyes as he made a shallow cut across my right palm, I tried my best to manage the pain. Blood pooled in the wound before he moved to Damien, repeating the process. Then, with a dramatic sweep of his arm, he pressed our hands together, our mingled blood gushing on the altar. The moment our wounds touched, a searing pain shot through my entire body.

I cried out, my knees nearly buckling, but Damien's grip on mine had tightened, consoling me. I could see his jaw clenched so tightly as if about to crack.

"Do not unlink your hands," the Shaman warned gleefully, his blind eyes seeming to glow in the dim light. "If you do, the ritual will fail—and the consequences are severe.

"We're not letting go," Damien gritted out, his voice strained but filled with determination. I nodded, tears streaming down my face as I focused on his unwavering eyes.

The Shaman continued to chant, louder and faster, until the room seemed to shake around us. The pain grew stronger, peaking to a scream from my throat, but miraculously, I held on.

Finally, in a flash of light and with the sound of breaking glass, the ritual was complete. The pain vanished, leaving a deep ache in its wake. I slumped against Damien, our hands still clasped, both of us gasping for breath.

"It is done," the Shaman intoned, stepping back. I glanced down at my chest, where a strange mark now pulsed faintly beneath my skin, just above my heart. I looked up to see an identical mark on Damien.

The Shaman's voice broke through, "You are now immune to fate's interference. No destined mates, no divine meddling. But—" He leaned closer to me, his milky eyes narrowing. "If you ever find your fated ones and give in to them. Your lives will spiral into ruin.

My heart sank, and my head started spinning. Was this really the right choice? Damien's hand tightened around mine. "We made this decision together," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his eyes. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Lyra. For you. For us.

I blinked away tears. "We'll face whatever comes, together."

A faint smile touched Damien's lips. "Together," he echoed, his voice soft but resolute.

Under the bright radiance of the moon, our lips met in a kiss with all our love and hope, a fragile yet resilient promise to face the world as one. Damien and I stepped out of the shrine.

Did we make the right decision?

Lyra.

Today was like any other for me, but it came with a bubbling excitement. The pack was alive with preparation for the end of year's festival; a time where wolves come together to celebrate the year's joyous unity and prosperity.

I was so excited to spend this day with Damien. The festival always brought together the best and brightest of the pack as well as visitors from neighboring packs.

I adjusted my flowing dress, a deep blue that complimented my auburn hair. I made my way through the square, greeting old faces and dignitaries alike.

"Lyra! It's been ages since we saw you," an elderly she-wolf called out, her tone warm and inviting.

I smiled, hugging her briefly. "Good to see you too, Leen."

Leen chuckled. "Enjoy yourself, dear."

I nodded and moved on, my gaze darting over the vibrant hall. I stopped here and there, exchanging pleasantries with pack members, my senses tuned for any sign of Damien.

It wasn't until almost twenty minutes of small talk later that I finally spotted him. He stood near the stage, his tall figure unmistakable. His curly hair dangling to his forehead, and his broad shoulders wrapped in an elegant suit that made him look effortlessly regal; as always. My heart jumped at the sight of him.

There he was. My handsome mate.

With a wide smile on my face, I began weaving my way through the crowd toward him.

As I drew closer, I saw Damien speaking with a small group of people. They were visitors from other packs. I slowed my steps, not wanting to interrupt their conversation even though I knew Damien wouldn’t mind.

Then, something shifted.

A lady emerged from the group to face him. She was good-looking, stunning with yards of black hair and emerald eyes. The dress seemed molded on her body in all the right places, she looked like a Barbie doll with both grace and poise.

Damien's expression brightened, and his wolf was just beneath the surface. I knew that look; I’d seen it a thousand times before but never only for me.

I reached out to him, my fingers brushing Damien's arm almost desperately. "Damien, I—"

The sound that came from him silenced me.

It was a growl—low, guttural, and unmistakable.

The wolf inside of Damien emerged, golden eyes on fire as he said that single word that exploded my world.

"Mate."

​Did he just call her his mate?

All the noise of the festival faded, all I could see was Damien's intense gaze and his unwavering focus on this beautiful stranger.

She smiled sweetly, her movements almost practiced, as she closed in toward Damien.

His blue eyes flashed toward me. For a moment, they held mine; confusion, regret, and something else that I didn't want to name-cross his face.

"Lyra," he said, his voice low as he reached out to me.

My stomach twisted, and Damien's hand hung in mid-reach as he turned toward me, unsure. His eyes jumped between me and the woman. "Lyra, I…” he began in that heavy voice.

I willed myself to smile-a bright but fake smile. "It's fine," I said, though he tried to interrupt. “Stay with her.”

"Lyra, wait…” Damien began again, a step in my direction.

I shook my head quickly, stepping back. "No, really. It's fine. I… should get going. I forgot I needed to be somewhere else." The excuse spilled out hurriedly and I turned and hurried away before he could respond.

I ran through the crowd, my body trembling with every step as I avoided their eyes. Yet I couldn't resist turning to glance back, hoping Damien was behind me.

But instead, what I saw made me weak. Damien extended his arm toward the woman. I watched in a daze as the stranger coyly placed her hand on his arm, her smile bright as they turned and began walking deeper into the square together.

I turned and broke into a run, tears freely flowing down my face, my chest heaving with sobs as I ran blindly.

The Chosen Mate ritual was not to be broken. Did he forget that? Why did it fail?

Lyra.

Her name was Audrey Lothan. I'd overheard some pack members whisper her name after the festival. The name reverberated within my mind, every syllable slicing into my already broken heart.

"She's so gorgeous. " one of the women whispered to her friend.

"And she's his fated mate," the other replied. "Obviously, Alpha Damien will have to go with his destined mate, not that… plaything called Lyra.”

The words hit me like a slap. I hid behind the corner of the hallway before they could see me, my fists clenched as I fought back tears. Plaything? Was that what I was?

They had seen Damien and me together for two years. And yet now, with Audrey in the picture, all that was reduced to nothing more than a fleeting distraction.

That night I stayed in our shared room, hopeful he would come, but the door never opened and the silence stretched on. I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, silent tears falling down my cheeks.

The next morning, I strolled out to the mall and there he was at one of our popular sit-outs.

Damien sat at one of the long tables, his head tilted toward Audrey as they talked. She laughed, the sound light and melodious, and Damien smiled; a genuine, easy smile that I hadn't seen in days.

My heart sank. Enough of this silence, I actually needed answers from him on what was going on.

I squared my shoulders and moved toward them, stopping a few feet away.

"Damien," I said, the sound of my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. "Can we talk?"

Damien looked up; his expression moved from surprise to unease.

He hesitated, his eyes darting to Audrey, almost as if he wanted to seek her permission.

My stomach churned. That small, subconscious gesture hurt more than anything else.

Audrey smiled sweetly. "Of course," she said, her voice like honey. The nerve!

Damien stood, nodding, and followed me to the far end of the room.

I turned to face him, wrapping my arms tightly over my chest. "I'm moving out of our room," I said without stammering.

"Why?" Damien's brow furrowed, his voice soft with disbelief. "Lyra, no. You don't have to…”

"I do," I interrupted, my voice cracking slightly. “ You didn't come back last night, Damien. I'm not a fool."

"I was… I was with the elders," he stammered.

“We both know that's a lie." My voice rose, shaking with contained emotion. "I saw you, Damien. I see the way you look at her."

"That's not true," he said hastily, his tone almost imploring.

"It is," I shot back, my voice shaking with anger and hurt. "Don't lie to me. Don't stand there and pretend it's not happening. And now, you looked at her first, like you needed her approval."

"Lyra, I..”

I cut him off, my words spilling out in a torrent of frustration and bitterness. "You don't even realize it, do you? The way your eyes light up when she speaks. The way you lean in like she's the only one who matters. Do you know how traumatizing this is for me?

To see you look at her like that, right in front of me?”

Damien was about to speak, but his eyes looked past me, distracted. I stopped, wondering what caught his attention.

My heart dropped when I turned around. Audrey was sitting at the table, playing with a spoon. She licked it slowly, and it made me angry. I clenched my jaw and turned back to Damien, who still hadn't looked away.

My voice dropped, low and bitter. “Exactly! Even now, you can't do without her."

Damien blinked, his focus snapping back to me. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching out to touch my arm.

I stepped back, shaking him off. "Don't even… I said my voice tight with barely restrained emotion. "Don't say anything else. Just… don't."

"Lyra, wait!" he shouted, sounding suddenly desperate. But I didn't stop. I opened the door and ran outside, the cold air hitting my face which was wet with tears.

I didn't look back. This was the highest form of betrayal.