Chapter 1
It was the night of the Rite of Passage, and the entire Silvermoon Pack had gathered at the clearing.
My fated mate, Caius Wulfstan, took my younger sister Lia Moonshadow's hand.
The Moonfire still burned in the stone basin, its silvery flames lighting up the faces of every young wolf who had just come of age.
Some knelt before the fire, letting out a low growl as the shadow of a gray wolf appeared behind them.
Others felt claws sprout from their fingertips, and the pack erupted in cheers, calling them natural-born warriors.
When it was Lia's turn, the flames suddenly flared up.
She closed her eyes, her long hair whipping in the wind.
A faint, silvery mark appeared between her brows.
It was barely visible, but the high priest Alaric Thornfield's expression shifted.
"The Moon Mark." His voice trembled.
He dropped to one knee.
A stunned silence fell over the clearing.
Then, cheers erupted.
"Lia is blessed by the Moon Goddess!"
"She's our future Luna."
"Caius chose well."
Lia opened her eyes.
But she didn't look for Alaric or our Alpha, Ulric Wulfstan.
Her gaze found me.
She stood in the firelight, her face pale but her eyes blazing with a terrifying brightness.
I knew that look all too well.
When we were kids, she broke our mother's silver comb, but made everyone think I did it.
That day, she'd given me that same look.
I looked down at my hands. They were empty, as usual.
The Rite of Passage was meant to awaken the inner wolf in every werewolf.
Even the lowest half-bloods would feel their wolf stir when the Moonfire called.
It didn't matter whether one's wolf was weak or broken.
As long as they had one, they still belonged.
But I was wolfless.
The Moonfire burned in front of me for fifteen minutes straight, and the flames didn't even flicker.
Alaric motioned for me to kneel closer to the basin.
I did.
The flames licked at my fingertips, the heat stinging my skin.
I didn't flinch. Instead, I pressed my palm flat against the stone altar.
It was ice-cold.
The fire lit up everyone else's faces, but it never found my wolf.
"Enough," Alaric finally said.
He looked at me like I was something worn out and useless.
"Elena Moonshadow," he announced, "wolfless."
For a heartbeat, the whole clearing was dead silent.
Then someone let out a laugh, soft but sharper than a knife.
"She really has no wolf."
"Our pack raised her for eighteen years, and yet she's not even a half-blood."
"No wonder Caius never acknowledged her. Who'd ever want a wolfless loser for a fated mate?"
I heard every word, but I didn't move.
I looked toward Caius.
He stood beside Ulric, his black suit perfectly tailored, the silver wolf badge on his shoulder gleaming coldly in the firelight.
He was the next Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack.
Ever since I was twelve, I'd known he was my fated mate.
That winter, I caught the fir scent on him for the very first time.
My heart hammered hard.
It felt like every part of me was screaming: he was the one.
Caius caught my scent too.
Back then, he wasn't as cold as he was now.
He frowned a little and tossed his cloak into my arms.
"Don't freeze," he'd said, pausing. "You're too thin."
I held onto those words for six years.
But now, he didn't even spare me a glance.
His eyes were locked on the Moon Mark between Lia's brows, for a long, long time.
Suddenly, I felt cold.
Not the kind from standing in snow.
This was a deep, hollow cold, like the winter wind was whistling straight through the cracks in my ribs.
Ulric cleared his throat. "Caius."
Everyone knew what that meant.
Once fated mates came of age, they sealed their bond before the Moonfire.
Caius, especially, had to do it.
Since he was the next Alpha, his mate would become the future Luna of the pack.
I stood at the edge of the altar, my fingertips still stinging, with laughter nipping at my heels.
Caius walked toward me, step by step.
I looked at him, and desperate hope flared to life in my chest again.
Maybe he'd say, "It doesn't matter."
Maybe he'd say, "Elena, come with me."
Either line would work.
He stopped in front of me and looked down.
His eyes were a pale gray.
I used to believe there was a gentleness hidden in them, but he always kept it locked away.
But now I saw: no fire would hide underneath ice.
"Elena," he called.
I replied in a barely audible voice, "Yeah?"
Caius raised his hand.
I thought he was going to touch my forehead.
At the Rite of Passage, fated mates would press their foreheads together to share their first wolf essence.
But instead, his hand brushed right past me and reached out to Lia standing behind me.
Lia seemed to have been waiting for this.
With red-rimmed eyes, she walked over and placed her hand in his.
A collective gasp rose from the crowd.
I stood frozen, not even feeling the sting in my fingertips.
Caius took Lia's hand, his voice cutting through the clearing.
"I, Caius Wulfstan, reject Elena Moonshadow as my fated mate."
A sharp pain shot through my chest.
It felt like a hand reached through my ribs and squeezed my heart tight.
I stumbled, my calf hitting the edge of the altar.
Pain flashed, and everything went dark for a second.
Whispers erupted from the crowd.
"Caius rejected Elena?"
"A fated mate can be rejected?"
"Come on, Caius can't be tied to a wolfless loser."
"But the backlash..."
That last line got hushed up fast.
No one really cared.
A werewolf who was rejected by their fated mate would face the wolf's backlash.
At best, it meant a fever for days; at worst, it could burn out their heart.
But I was wolfless.
Maybe they thought I wasn't even worth the wolf soul's backlash.
Caius still looked at me.
There wasn't a trace of doubt on his face.
"You should understand," he said, his voice cold. "The Silvermoon Pack needs a Luna, not someone who can't even awaken her inner wolf."
I opened my mouth, my throat filled with the taste of blood.
"So?" I asked, my voice so hoarse it sounded nothing like my own.
He frowned, as if my retort annoyed him.
"Lia has the Moon Mark. She's more suited than you are," he said coldly.
Lia stepped closer to him. "Elena, I know you're hurting, but Caius is going to lead the pack one day. He can't let personal feelings get in the way."
"Shut up," I snapped.
Yet even I froze for a second at how harsh it sounded coming from me.
Lia's eyes instantly welled up with tears.
Caius's face darkened. "Elena, don't make a scene at the Rite of Passage."
I looked at him, and out of nowhere, I wanted to laugh.
I got rejected in front of everyone, and I ought to take it with perfect grace?
Lia taking my fated mate was seen as being sensible.
Caius used me as a stepping stone for her, and that was supposed to be for the good of the pack.
I, the victim, couldn't even tell Lia to shut up.
The pain in my chest dug deeper, tearing through my veins.
My ears started ringing, and the firelight at the altar swirled into a haze.
Ulric muttered to Alaric, "Get Elena out of here. Don't let her ruin the rite."
Alaric stepped forward and grabbed my arm.
I tried to shake him off, yet I had no strength left.
The next moment, a metallic taste rose in my throat.
I coughed up blood, which splattered beside the Moonfire.
The crowd finally hushed.
I dropped to my knees on the altar, my palm sinking into the blood, my fingers trembling uncontrollably.
It hurt.
Turned out, even without a wolf, I could still feel everything break.
Caius shifted forward.
Lia instantly tugged at his sleeve. "Caius, do you think Elena hates me? I swear, I never thought the Moon Goddess would choose me."
Caius stopped.
He looked at me, and whatever flicker of emotion in his eyes disappeared quickly.
"Elena, don't be dramatic," he said.
I hung my head, blood dripping onto the stone.
Dramatic?
I slowly curled my fingers into a tight fist.
If the pain hadn't knocked the strength out of me, I might've laughed.
For eighteen years, I never fought Lia for anything.
When she was scared of the dark, I let her have the room by the fireplace.
When she said the silver pendant Mom left behind didn't suit me, I took it off and gave it to her.
When she cried and said she liked Caius, I avoided him for a whole winter.
Now, she'd even taken my fated mate.
And I was the one being called dramatic.
Suddenly, the Moonfire flickered.
It was so faint, nobody else noticed.
But I did.
A wisp of silver light rose from the stone where my blood had fallen.
It traced the lines of my palm, climbed over my wrist, and slipped beneath my sleeve.
The pain paused for a moment.
I heard a voice.
"Kid."
It wasn't from Alaric, anyone from the pack, or Caius.
It drifted in from the distance, gentle, yet cold.
I jerked my head up.
The clearing was still there.
Caius held Lia's hand, Alaric's face twisted in disgust, Ulric's brow was furrowed, and everyone was waiting for me to be dragged away.
But behind them, in the silvery flames of the Moonfire, I saw a pair of huge, silvery wolf eyes.
They watched me, quiet and steady.
"Feels good to be cast aside?"
My lips moved, but no sound came out.
No, it hurt.
Those eyes narrowed a bit. "Then get up."
A cold wind blew in from the edge of the clearing.
The Moonfire in the stone basin flared violently. Its silvery flames shot skyward, painting every face deathly pale.
Alaric backed away in terror. "The Moonfire... what's happening?"
I braced myself against the altar and rose slowly.
My sleeve slid down, exposing my wrist.
There, a silvery Moon Mark blazed across my skin.
It was a hundred times brighter than the faint mark on Leah's forehead.
Caius's composure cracked.
Lia locked her eyes on my wrist, her lips draining of all color.
The voice spoke again.
This time, it whispered right in my ear.
"My child, they don't want you. But I do."