Aria's POV
The whispers cut deeper than knives.
"That's the cursed Emberly girl."
"I heard her whole family were traitors."
"Why did they even let her come tonight?"
I press myself harder against the cold stone wall of the grand hall, wishing I could disappear into the shadows. My hands shake as I smooth down my borrowed dress—a faded blue thing that Mira snuck from the donation pile. It doesn't fit right, hanging loose in some places and tight in others, but it's all I have.
Around me, the Blood Moon Bonding ceremony sparkles with magic and laughter. Wolves in silks and jewels dance under floating lanterns that glow like stars. The air smells like honey wine and roses. Everyone looks so beautiful, so happy, so perfect.
And then there's me.
"Aria, stop hiding." Mira squeezes my hand, her warm brown eyes fierce with loyalty. She's the only friend I have left—the only person in the Outcast Hollows who doesn't treat me like poison. "You have every right to be here. The Moon Goddess calls all unmated wolves on their twenty-fourth year."
"The Moon Goddess made a mistake with me," I whisper, pulling my copper-red hair forward to hide my face. People say my hair color is a bad omen. They say my amber eyes glow like a demon's. They say the Emberly bloodline is cursed.
Maybe they're right.
"Don't say that." Mira's grip tightens. "Tonight could change everything. What if you find your mate? What if he's someone wonderful who sees how special you are?"
I want to believe her. I've dreamed about this night for years—imagined a mate who would look at me with love instead of disgust, who would defend me instead of joining the whispers, who would finally make me feel like I belong somewhere.
But dreams are dangerous things for girls like me.
A hush falls over the crowd. My breath catches.
The blood moon is rising.
Through the massive windows, I watch the moon climb into the sky, turning deeper and deeper red until it looks like it's bleeding. Ancient magic fills the air, making my skin tingle. This is it—the moment when the Moon Goddess reveals fated mates, when invisible threads of destiny become visible under her crimson light.
"It's happening," Mira breathes.
All around the hall, glowing red threads begin to appear, connecting hearts to hearts. A girl shrieks with joy as her thread leads to a handsome warrior. An older wolf finds his thread pulling toward a beautiful healer, and both start crying happy tears. Everywhere I look, people are finding their mates, their forevers, their happy endings.
I close my eyes. Please, Moon Goddess. Please let me have this one thing.
Then it hits me.
Fire explodes in my chest—not painful, but burning with intensity I've never felt before. My eyes snap open as a gasp tears from my throat. A glowing red thread has appeared, stretching from my heart across the entire hall.
I have a mate.
The thread is thick and brilliant, pulsing with power that makes other bonds look pale. My heart pounds so hard I think it might burst. I follow the thread with my eyes, watching it weave through the dancing crowd, past the noble families, straight to the raised platform where the most important wolves stand.
No. It can't be.
The thread connects to him.
Alpha Caspian Blackthorn. The Alpha King. The most powerful wolf in all the territories.
He stands tall and commanding on the platform, his midnight-black hair catching the moonlight, his ice-blue eyes scanning the crowd. He's breathtakingly handsome in his formal black suit, every inch the warrior king. I've only seen him from a distance before—he's so far above someone like me that we might as well live in different worlds.
But the Moon Goddess chose us. She bonded us. Against all odds, against all logic, she made the most powerful Alpha in the land my fated mate.
Joy bursts through me like sunrise. Tears flood my eyes. This is real. This is happening. I'm not cursed—I'm blessed! The Moon Goddess herself has given me a mate, and not just any mate, but the Alpha King!
Maybe everything will finally be okay. Maybe Caspian will see past the lies about my family. Maybe he'll protect me, cherish me, love me the way mates are supposed to.
I take a shaky step forward, then another, following the pull of our bond. The crowd parts, and suddenly everyone is staring. The whispers start immediately.
"Is that—?"
"The Emberly girl?"
"No way. The Alpha King can't be—"
I ignore them all, my eyes locked on Caspian. He's looking right at me now, and I can see the exact moment he feels the bond snap into place. His whole body goes rigid. His ice-blue eyes widen.
I smile through my tears, hoping he can see how happy I am, how grateful, how ready I am to be whatever he needs me to be.
But then his expression changes.
The shock twists into something else. Something that makes my blood run cold.
Pure, undiluted hatred.
His perfect face contorts with disgust so intense it feels like a physical blow. His hands clench into fists at his sides. His wolf flashes in his eyes—not with joy or recognition, but with rage.
No. No, this isn't how it's supposed to go.
Caspian moves. He doesn't walk—he storms across the hall like a hurricane, his power rolling off him in waves that make weaker wolves whimper and back away. The crowd scatters, creating a clear path between us.
He reaches me in seconds.
His hand shoots out and grabs my wrist so hard I gasp in pain. His fingers dig into my skin like iron shackles, and I can already feel bruises forming.
"Alpha, you're hurting—"
"Don't speak," he snarls, his voice dripping with venom.
He drags me forward. I stumble, trying to keep up with his long strides, my heart breaking with every step. This can't be happening. He's my mate. He's supposed to protect me, not hurt me.
Caspian pulls me to the center of the hall, right under the blood moon's crimson light where everyone can see. Hundreds of wolves stare at us in shocked silence. I've never felt so small, so exposed, so utterly terrified.
He releases my wrist and I nearly fall, catching myself at the last second.
"Look at me," Caspian commands, his Alpha power forcing my chin up.
I look into those ice-blue eyes and see nothing but cold fury. The mate bond thrums between us, trying to pull us together, but he's fighting it with everything he has.
"This," he announces to the crowd, his voice carrying through the silent hall, "is a cosmic mistake."
The words hit me like arrows.
"The Moon Goddess has bound me to the daughter of traitors. To the spawn of the blood magic practitioners who murdered my father with their dark arts. To an omega so beneath me that her very existence is an insult."
"No," I whisper, shaking my head desperately. "My family didn't—we weren't—"
"SILENCE!" His Alpha command slams into me like a tidal wave.
My jaw locks shut. My body freezes. I can't move, can't speak, can't do anything but stand there as he destroys me in front of everyone.
Tears stream down my face, but I can't even wipe them away.
Caspian steps closer, looking down at me with such contempt that I want to die. "You are not worthy to breathe the same air as me. You are not worthy to stand in this hall. You are not worthy of this bond."
The blood moon pulses overhead, as if trying to remind him of the sacred connection we share.
But Caspian doesn't care.
"I, Caspian Blackthorn, Alpha King of the Crimson Wilds, hereby reject you, Aria Emberly, as my mate and future Luna. I sever this bond. I deny this fate."
The ancient words of rejection hang in the air for one horrible moment.
Then the bond ignites.
It doesn't just break—it burns. Fire explodes in my chest, a thousand times worse than when the bond formed. I scream, the Alpha command breaking as agony tears through every cell of my body. It feels like I'm being ripped apart from the inside, like someone is carving out my heart with a molten blade.
I collapse to my knees, my hands clutching at my chest where black cracks are spreading across my skin like I'm made of glass and I'm shattering. The pain is so intense I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but scream.
Through my blurring vision, I see Caspian turn and walk away.
He doesn't look back. Not even once.
The last thing I hear before darkness swallows me is a woman's voice, cold and satisfied:
"She'll be dead by morning."