Aelara's POV
"I, Ronan Vale, Alpha of the Silver Ridge Pack, reject you, Aelara Voss, as my mate and future Luna."
The words didn't echo.
They shattered.
A high ringing filled my ears, like the world itself refused to accept what he had just done. My chest tightened, a sharp, splintering pain spreading through my ribs like glass cracking from the inside out. I tasted salt before I realized tears were sliding down my face.
Around us, the gatmyed pack watched in silence.
Some looked satisfied.
Some looked uncomfortable.
No one stepped forward.
I had known this might happen. Everyone did.
The wolfless girl.
The fallen Alpha's daughter turned servant.
The pack's living shame.
But knowing didn't make it hurt less.
"I… I accept—"
I forced the words out, because if I didn't, the invisible thread tying us together would keep twisting inside me. Acceptance meant freedom. Acceptance meant the pain would stop.
Ronan moved faster than I expected.
His hand clamped around my wrist , tight enough to bruise. His eyes had already turned that unnatural gold, his wolf pushing close to the surface.
"You don't get to speak," he said coldly. "You don't get to choose anything."
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
Rejecting a mate was cruel.
Silencing them when they tried to accept it? That is brutal.
I lowered my gaze. Fighting would only make it worse.
A sharp heel struck my side and I stumbled to my knees.
"Did you really think fate would be that kind?" came a sweet, poisonous voice.
Seraphine.
Daughter of the Beta. Future Luna. Perfect in every way I wasn't — silver hair, flawless skin, power humming under my control.
She didn't look angry.
She looked amused.
"You should be grateful," she continued, circling me slowly. "Now you can go back to scrubbing floors, where you belong."
Her friends laughed softly. Not loud enough to cause a scene. Just enough for me to hear.
I stayed still.
Stillness meant survival.
A strange pressure pulsed in my chest not a voice, not a wolf… just a deep, aching hollowness where something should have been. I had never heard a wolf in my head like the others described. Never felt that second presence awaken.
Just emptiness.
Just silence.
Just me.
A hot wave of agony suddenly tore through my abdomen and I gasped, collapsing forward. The bond snapping violently as Ronan turned away from me, already reaching for Seraphine, sent backlash through my body like fire in my veins.
The pack dispersed.
The show was over.
No one helped me up.
I dragged myself to my feet and staggered toward the servants' quarters beneath the pack house. Each step felt heavier than the last. My vision blurred. Twice I had to steady myself against the stone walls.
When I finally reached my small, cold room, I shut the door and slid down against it.
The pain slowly dulled into a deep, throbbing ache.
I pressed a trembling hand over my chest.
"I'm sorry," I whispered into the darkness, though I didn't know who I was apologizing to. Maybe to the girl I used to be. Maybe to the life I thought I'd have.
Mates were supposed to be salvation.
Not sentences.
Tomorrow night, Ronan would stand before the pack beside Seraphine.
Crowned Alpha and Luna.
Celebrated.
Cheered.
And I would still be me. Cleaning. Bowing. Surviving.
No.
Something inside me, small, fragile, but still alive, refused.
Not a wolf.
Not a voice.
Just a spark.
"They don't get to decide how my story ends," I whispered to the dark. "I'm leaving. Before the ceremony. Before they can chain me here forever."
My heart pounded not with fear this time, but with something sharper.
Resolve.
For the first time in years, the future didn't look like a cage.
It looked like a road.
And I was finally ready to run.