Cerys
My reflection in the cracked mirror across the room stared back at me with hollow eyes. I wasn’t the Luna they wanted. I wasn’t the mate Ryker chose. I wasn’t enough.
But if this pack didn’t want me, then I wouldn’t stay.
I had to leave.
I packed my things hastily, my movements fueled by a mixture of anger and despair. A small duffel bag held everything I owned—a couple of clothes, a few mementos, and the pendant my father had given me.
Clutching the pendant tightly, I whispered, “I’m sorry, Dad. I have to go. I, Cerys Ortega, daughter of Alpha Reiner Ortega, sever my connection with the Silverridge pack.”
With that, I slipped out of the pack house with my bike. The Silverridge Pack’s territory was eerily silent, save for the occasional howling of distant wolves. I avoided the main roads, sticking to the shadows as I made my way to the border. Each throttle was heavy, as though the land itself was trying to hold me back.
‘Cerys, are you sure about this?’
The Niamh’s question echoed in my mind, but the answer came swiftly. Yes, I was sure. Staying meant facing more ridicule, more judgment. Staying meant letting them win.
The moment I crossed the boundary of the Silverridge territory, a strange sense of liberation washed over me. The bond to my pack, faint as it had become after Ryker’s betrayal, snapped entirely. It hurt, like a thread being ripped out of my soul, but it also freed me.
I didn’t know where I was going, but anywhere was better than here.
The ride was grueling. Days turned into nights, and nights into days as I traversed unfamiliar lands. With nothing but my instincts to guide me, I wandered through dense roads, crossed bridges, and passed abandoned human towns.
Every mile brought with it a new challenge. Hunger gnawed at me, and exhaustion clawed at my resolve, but I pressed on. Whenever the pain threatened to overwhelm me, I reminded myself why I was doing this—why I had to keep moving forward.
Ryker’s words played in my mind like a broken record: “Mollie is my mate, not Cerys.” The memory of his cold eyes, the dismissiveness in his tone, and the smug smile on Mollie’s face fueled my determination.
It wasn’t just Ryker, though. It was everything—years of feeling inadequate, whispers behind my back that I wasn’t strong enough, graceful enough, or wise enough to be a Luna. Even my father, who had always believed in me, hadn’t been able to shield me from the judgmental stares of the pack.
I shook off the thoughts and focused on the road ahead.
It was on the seventh day of my ride when I reached a place I hadn’t expected to find: the territory of the Crimson Claw Pack.
Crimson Claw was a name spoken with a mix of respect and caution. Known for its fierce warriors and some riders, it was one of the strongest packs in the region. Alpha Justice Valenzuela ruled with a firm but fair hand, and his warriors and riders were said to be unmatched in skill.
Standing at the edge of the Crimson Claw border, I hesitated. Could I start over here? Would they even accept packless she wolf like me?
I took a deep breath and stepped across the invisible line. Almost immediately, two warriors appeared from the shadows, their eyes sharp and assessing.
“Who are you, and what is your business here?” one of them demanded, his voice deep and commanding.
“My name is Cerys Ortega,” I replied, keeping my tone steady despite the fear twisting in my stomach. “I’ve left my pack. I seek refuge and a chance to prove myself as a rider.”
The warriors exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Finally, the taller one nodded. “Follow us. You’ll speak to the Alpha.”
My heart raced as I trailed behind them, the weight of my decision settling heavily on my shoulders. This was it—my chance to start anew.
The Crimson Claw territory was vastly different from Silverridge. The pack’s downtown was bustling, with wolves of all ranks working together seamlessly. Despite the order and discipline evident in every corner, there was a warmth here that Silverridge had lacked.
We reached a city hall at the heart of the territory. Inside, Alpha Justice Valenzuela sat on a raised platform, his presence commanding yet oddly comforting. He was tall, with broad shoulders and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through me.
“Kneel,” one of the warriors instructed. I obeyed, lowering myself to one knee and bowing my head.
“State your name and purpose,” Alpha Justice said, his voice deep and steady.
“My name is Cerys Ortega,” I began, forcing my voice to remain firm. “I come from the Silverridge Pack. I have no pack now, no rank. I’ve been betrayed by those I trusted most.” My voice cracked slightly, but I pressed on. “I seek a new beginning. I wish to train as a rider under your authority.”
The Alpha studied me for what felt like an eternity. Finally, he spoke. “You’re either very brave or very desperate to come here alone, with nothing but your name and a plea.”
“I am both,” I admitted.
A flicker of something—approval?—crossed his face. “Very well. You’ll be tested. If you prove your skill, you’ll have a place here. If not, you’ll be free to leave, but only after we’re certain you pose no threat to this pack.”
“Thank you, Alpha,” I said, bowing my head once more.
As I was led to temporary quarters, a strange sense of hope blossomed within me. I wasn’t sure what awaited me in Crimson Claw, but for the first time in days, I felt like I had a chance to reclaim my life.
This wasn’t the end—it was only the beginning.
