Kaia's POV
Something is wrong.
I stand at the altar in my white mating ceremony dress, three hundred pack members watching from wooden benches, and my fiancé won't look at me.
Rowan Nightshade stares past my shoulder, his jaw tight, his dark eyes cold as winter stone. My stomach twists. We've been together three years. He proposed six months ago. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life.
So why does he look like he's at a funeral?
Rowan? I whisper, reaching for his hand.
He pulls away.
The priestess clears her throat, her ancient voice filling the ceremony hall. Rowan Nightshade of the Pureblood Nightshade Pack, do you accept Kaia Ashborne as your mate? Do you pledge your wolf, your heart, and your life to hers?
My heart hammers. This is just nerves. He's nervous. That's all.
Rowan's eyes finally meet mine.
They're empty.
I reject you, Kaia Ashborne.
The world stops.
Gasps explode through the crowd. Someone screams. My knees buckle, but I lock them straight, refusing to fall. This isn't happening. This is a nightmare.
What? The word rips from my throat.
I reject your bond. His voice is louder now, carrying to every corner of the hall. I reject your claim. I reject everything about you.
Pain explodes in my chest—my wolf howling in agony, the sound tearing through my mind. Rejection is the worst wound a wolf can suffer. It's like being stabbed in the heart while someone rips your soul in half.
Rowan, please— Tears blur my vision. I don't understand. What did I do wrong?
You existed. He steps back from the altar. You were always wrong, Kaia. Wrong bloodline. Wrong status. Wrong everything.
My stepmother Vivienne rises from the front row, and she's smiling. That's when I know.
This was planned.
Rowan, darling, Vivienne calls sweetly, don't keep her waiting. Introduce your real mate.
No. No, no, no.
Rowan walks past me, actually steps around me like I'm garbage in his path—and extends his hand toward the crowd.
Elara stands from her seat.
My stepsister.
My beautiful, perfect, Pureblood stepsister glides forward in a silver dress that matches her blonde hair. She takes Rowan's hand, and he pulls her close, wrapping his arm around her waist with a tenderness he never showed me.
This is my true chosen mate, Rowan announces, his voice warm now, alive in a way it never was when he spoke to me. Elara Ashborne. The woman I actually love.
The priestess gasps. This is highly irregular
The Ashborne family supports this union, my father Marcus booms, standing. His face is twisted with disgust as he looks at me. Kaia was... obsessed with Rowan. Delusional. We tried to tell her the engagement was never real, but she wouldn't listen.
Lies. All lies.
That's not true! I scream. You arranged this marriage! You pushed us together! You
She's hysterical, Vivienne says loudly, shaking her head sadly. Poor thing. We should have gotten her help years ago.
The crowd murmurs, and I see it happening—they're believing them. Three hundred wolves watching me fall apart, and they think I'm crazy.
Rowan. My voice breaks. Tell them the truth. Please.
He looks at me with pure contempt. The truth is I never loved you. You were a political connection until something better came along. He kisses Elara's temple. And she did.
My wolf screams again, the sound so loud I think everyone must hear it. But they don't. They just stare at the pathetic Mixedblood girl who thought a Pureblood could love her.
Elara leans into Rowan's chest and smiles at me—a vicious, triumphant smile that tells me everything. She planned this. She wanted this. Destroying me was the goal.
How long? I force the words out.
Fourteen months, Elara purrs. We've been together since your first anniversary.
I'm going to be sick.
Marcus steps into the aisle, pointing at me with one thick finger. The Ashborne family disowns Kaia, effective immediately. She has no claim to our name, our pack, or our protection. She is exiled.
You can't My voice cracks. I'm your daughter!
You were never my daughter. His words are ice. You were an orphan we took in out of pity. That pity has run out.
Security guards appear from the side doors—four massive males with hard faces. They grab my arms before I can run.
No! Let me go! I thrash against their grip, but they're too strong. This is wrong! You can't do this!
Remove her, Marcus orders. And make sure everyone sees.
They drag me down the aisle. I fight every step, screaming, begging, my wolf howling so loud inside my skull I think I'll go insane. Three hundred wolves watch in silence. Some look away. Others whisper and point. No one helps.
Please! I sob. Someone help me! Please!
No one moves.
They haul me through the ceremony hall doors into the afternoon sunlight. The pack gates loom ahead—massive iron barriers that separate the Nightshade territory from the wild lands beyond.
Don't do this, I beg the guards. I have nowhere to go. I'll die out there.
Should've thought of that before you embarrassed yourself, one guard mutters.
They throw me through the gates.
I hit the dirt road hard, stones cutting my palms, my white dress tearing. Behind me, the gates slam shut with a sound like a death sentence.
I push myself up on shaking arms and stare at the closed gates. Through the bars, I can see pack members gathering, watching my humiliation. Some are laughing.
My wolf whimpers and retreats deep inside me, hiding from the pain.
I'm alone.
I collapse onto my side in the dirt, curling into a ball, and I can't breathe. Can't think. Can't do anything but hurt.
I don't know how long I lie there. Minutes. Hours. The sun moves across the sky.
Then I hear footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate. Coming closer.
I don't look up. I don't care. Let whoever it is kill me. It would be a mercy.
The footsteps stop inches from my face.
Get up, Kalista.
My blood freezes.
That name. No one has called me that since,, since
I don't remember. But my wolf stirs, responding to that name in a way she never responded to Kaia.
I force my head up.
They throw me through the gates.
I hit the dirt road hard, stones cutting my palms, my white dress tearing. Behind me, the gates slam shut with a sound like a death sentence.
I push myself up on shaking arms and stare at the closed gates. Through the bars, I can see pack members gathering, watching my humiliation. Some are laughing.
My wolf whimpers and retreats deep inside me, hiding from the pain.
I'm alone.
Completely, utterly alone.
I collapse onto my side in the dirt, curling into a ball as sobs tear through my chest. The dress—the beautiful white mating ceremony dress I spent months saving for—is ruined. Covered in mud and blood and the ashes of my entire life.
Three years with Rowan. Gone.
Twenty-four years with the Ashbornes. Erased.
Every dream I ever had. Destroyed.
I don't know how long I lie there. The sun moves across the sky. Shadows lengthen. No one comes.
Eventually, the crying stops because I have no tears left.
I stand on shaking legs, my body aching, my heart a hollow pit in my chest.
I have nowhere to go. No money. No pack. Nothing but this ruined dress and the crushing weight of total humiliation.
But I start walking anyway.
Because staying here—lying in the dirt where they threw me—would mean they won.
And I'm not ready to let them win.
Not yet.