Chapter 1
On the day of our mating ceremony, my mate, William Shaw, rejected me at the sacred altar. He broke our blood vows and ran off to save another she-wolf.
The guests looked at me like I was the punchline of some sick joke.
I stood in the Moon Temple for three hours. The ceremonial candles burned down to stubs. In my mind, my wolf curled into a tight, wounded ball.
Then my father showed up.
He didn't spare a glance for anyone else. He lifted my lace veil and said, "Come home, pup."
The entire pack train turned around and hauled my mating gift back to Sinclair Estate.
That night, William came home dripping wet and reeking of that she-wolf's scent. He stood in the empty mating chamber, frozen like he'd been hit with wolfsbane.
Later, he knelt outside the gates of Sinclair Estate all night, and his knees were scraped raw from the cold stone. The morning servants found him barely conscious, muttering my name.
My father only sent back one message. "Want my daughter? Pray in your next life."
*****
The ceremonial candles had burned halfway down.
Wax dripped and piled up like a scar, hard and cold in the bronze tray.
My lace veil was heavy, the embroidered crescent moons and Whitevale pack sigil pressing down on my head until my neck ached.
The Moon Temple was supposed to be sacred. Instead, it felt like a tomb.
It was dead quiet, a silence that seemed full of others' gloating.
I could hear the guests whispering. Their voices buzzed around my ears like flies drawn to something already rotting.
"It's been three hours. William still hasn't come back?"
"He abandoned his own mating ceremony for another she-wolf, bringing shame to Whitevale Pack."
"Look at that mating gift carried all the way here. And now, her mate is gone."
I stood there frozen. My body was numb, but my ears still caught every stinging word. My wolf roared within me, wanting to tear something apart.
Today was supposed to be my bonding day with William Shaw, future Alpha of Stonecrest Pack and Earl of Northmere.
My wolf had known what he was the first time our eyes met. One whiff of his pine-and-smoke scent, and she had howled "mine"—he was my fated mate.
And his wolf had answered. But something, or someone, had always clouded his instincts, pulling him toward Emily Rivers instead. I told myself it didn't matter. An arranged mating between packs was still a binding contract. He'd learn to love me. Or so I believed.
Three hours ago, we were about to begin the sacred rites. The priestess stood at the altar, the chalice of blood vows waiting between us. I was reaching for the ceremonial dagger to complete the marking when William's head snapped up.
His nostrils flared. His wolf surged behind his eyes, wild and confused. A strange scent washed over him. It wasn't mine. I didn't know what it was then. Later, I'd learn it was a false fated mate signal, brewed from wolfsbane and dark moon magic.
But at that moment, William only knew that his instincts were screaming. He stepped back from the altar. His voice rang out, raw and certain. "Sorry, Charlotte, but I reject this union. Emily's in danger. I can feel her. She's my—"
He stopped, blinked once, and a flicker of confusion crossed his face. Then his wolf growled low in his throat, and he turned and ran, his body moving like a puppet on strings.
The priestess gasped. The guests erupted.
I only saw the broad set of his shoulders in his custom-tailored suit as he strode down the aisle and crashed through the temple doors, leaving behind the scent of crushed pine and desperation.
Like a gust of winter wind, he swept away all the joy in the temple, and my dignity along with it.
Emily was his childhood companion, a distant cousin who had come to the Stonecrest territory for refuge.
She always wore white, spoke in whispers, and looked like she'd collapse if the wind so much as touched her.
She claimed she was frail, couldn't run with the pack, couldn't shift in the cold, and couldn't even raise her voice.
But a moment before William bolted, I saw her.
Through the sheer fabric of my veil, I caught her standing in the corner of the temple, across the crowd of confused guests, staring directly at me.
There wasn't a trace of weakness in her eyes, but only cold, smug victory.
Then she slipped away through a side door.
And then came that desperate scent, the one that tricked William's wolf into believing Emily was his true mate and that she was in danger. That was what made him reject me.
The guests had gone from shocked silence to barely concealed glee. I could smell it on them—that sour, sharp scent of wolves watching someone else's world collapse.
Daisy, William's mother, finally couldn't sit still.
She strode over to me, her perfume clashing with the stale scent of the half-burnt candles.
Her voice dripped with impatience. "Charlotte, you're a proper Alpha's daughter. You should know how to behave. Emily is frail. William did the right thing by protecting her.
"Standing here like this, what do you think you look like? You're just embarrassing yourself."
I didn't speak.
My throat felt like it was filled with ash. I couldn't force out a single word.
Behave? At my own mating ceremony, my mate rejected me for another she-wolf, and I was supposed to behave?
He walked away from our blood vows, in front of the priestess and every pack, because he felt someone else needed him more. And I was supposed to behave?
"Are you really going to wait for William to lift your veil? Just do it yourself," Daisy snapped when I didn't move. Her tone turned razor-sharp. "Stop acting like some precious Luna-in-waiting. Once you're joining Stonecrest Pack, you follow Stonecrest rules."
Rules? My father taught me pack law from the time I could walk: know your place, honor your mate, and respect the hierarchy.
I'd learned to be a proper Alpha's daughter for eighteen years. And on the day I was supposed to seal the bond with my mate, it was all ripped away in the most disgraceful way possible.
My hand clenched the fabric of my gown. Nails dug into my palm. The sharp bite of pain kept me from shifting on the spot and tearing through the crowd.
I couldn't break. A daughter of Whitevale Pack wasn't allowed to shatter in front of the enemy.
But inside, my wolf wasn't so restrained. She let out a silent, agonizing howl that echoed in the hollow of my chest. It felt like a silver chain was tightening around her throat, choking the life out of her.