Chapter 6
Sylvia closed her eyes.
Betraying the pack was a fate worse than death. It meant being stripped of her identity as a wolf, banished from the territory, and never allowed to return.
She couldn't betray the pack. She had nowhere else to go.
"I-I'll go." Sylvia forced the words out. "I'll stand in the corner, s-so no one will notice me."
Mia looked at Sylvia, her eyes rimmed with tears. "Sylvia, why are you so stubborn?"
If she weren't stubborn, she wouldn't make it.
Sylvia didn't reply. She slipped into a groggy sleep.
In her dream, she was back on that rainy night half a year ago.
The black wolf lay beside a pile of trash, its golden eyes glowing in the darkness like flames.
It looked at her, a low whimper rising from its throat, as if it were begging for help, or maybe warning her to stay away.
Sylvia crouched down, her fingers gently brushing over the wound on its hind leg.
The wolf tensed up, but it didn't bite her.
"Don't be afraid," she whispered. "I won't hurt you."
The black wolf's eyes softened. It lowered its head, its nose nuzzling her wrist and leaving a wet trail behind.
"I've memorized your scent." A low voice sounded in her dream.
Sylvia shot upright, wide awake.
The moon outside her window was perfectly round.
*****
The Mate Ball was held at the Crescent Shrine.
The shrine stood at the highest point in the territory. It was a circular structure built from large white stones, its dome open to the night sky, allowing moonlight to flood the interior.
There were no lights inside. Thousands of moonstones were embedded in the walls, bathing the hall in a gentle, silvery glow.
Sylvia wore a plain gray servant dress, blending in with dozens of low-born attendants as she stood in the farthest shadows of the hall.
Her fever hadn't gone away. Her forehead was burning, her legs were weak and shaky, and she had to cling to the wall to keep herself standing.
In the center of the hall, the nobles gathered in small groups, dressed to the nines, perfume and laughter swirling in the air.
Vivian was the center of attention. She wore a silvery gown and a necklace strung with wolf fangs. She claimed it was a love token from the Alpha.
"Vivian, your necklace is so pretty. Did the Alpha hunt those fangs for you?" one of the girls gushed.
"Of course," Vivian said, tilting her chin with pride. "At last month's hunting festival, the Alpha took down a rogue wolf himself and gave me its sharpest fang as a keepsake."
Sylvia instinctively touched her bare neck.
She had a wolf fang, too. It was a small one, strung between moonstones, sent to her by Kaelen.
She didn't dare wear it, afraid someone would recognize it. Now, it was tucked away under her pillow, resting on her moonstone bracelet.
"The Alpha is here." The herald's voice rang out, and instantly, silence swept the hall.
Kaelen strode in through the main doors, a black suit emphasizing his commanding presence: broad shoulders, long legs, and steady steps.
He didn't spare a glance for anyone but made his way straight to the throne at the highest point of the hall.
Moonlight poured down from above, outlining him in silver, as if the Moon Goddess were crowning him.
Sylvia shrank back into the shadows, and her breathing was quiet.
She watched as he took his seat, raised his hand to signal the start of the ceremony, and his eyes slowly scanned the crowd. Then his gaze locked in her direction.
Sylvia's heart skipped a beat. She ducked her head, burying herself deeper among the others.
All around her were low-born servants, their dresses blending into a sea of gray. She thought she wouldn't be noticed.
Kaelen's voice thundered through the Crescent Shrine, echoing in every corner. "Tonight, at this Mate Ball, all members of the Crescent Pack, regardless of rank or form, have the right to seek their fated mate."
His gaze remained fixed in that direction. "Moon Goddess, please bestow your guidance upon us."
Suddenly, the dome of the shrine blazed with light. Moonlight gathered into something almost tangible, cascading down like a silver waterfall through the open ceiling.
The nobles all looked up, faces shining with anticipation. The legendary silver light of fate was about to descend.
Sylvia wanted to look up, too, but she didn't dare. She kept her head down, staring at the moonstone patterns on the floor, counting the beats of her heart.
One hundred and one, one hundred and two, one hundred and three.
Suddenly, a beam of silver light enveloped her. It wasn't ordinary moonlight pouring from the dome. It was warm, almost alive, shooting straight through the crown of her head. It was the light of fate.
Sylvia froze.
The low-born attendants around her gasped and backed away, like they were scared to get caught in it.
She stood alone in the center of the silver glow, like prey caught in a spotlight, with nowhere to hide.
"No way!" Vivian's scream tore through the shrine. "She's a wolfless loser. Why would the Moon Goddess pick her?"