Lyra.
Today was like any other for me, but it came with a bubbling excitement. The pack was alive with preparation for the end of year's festival; a time where wolves come together to celebrate the year's joyous unity and prosperity.
I was so excited to spend this day with Damien. The festival always brought together the best and brightest of the pack as well as visitors from neighboring packs.
I adjusted my flowing dress, a deep blue that complimented my auburn hair. I made my way through the square, greeting old faces and dignitaries alike.
"Lyra! It's been ages since we saw you," an elderly she-wolf called out, her tone warm and inviting.
I smiled, hugging her briefly. "Good to see you too, Leen."
Leen chuckled. "Enjoy yourself, dear."
I nodded and moved on, my gaze darting over the vibrant hall. I stopped here and there, exchanging pleasantries with pack members, my senses tuned for any sign of Damien.
It wasn't until almost twenty minutes of small talk later that I finally spotted him. He stood near the stage, his tall figure unmistakable. His curly hair dangling to his forehead, and his broad shoulders wrapped in an elegant suit that made him look effortlessly regal; as always. My heart jumped at the sight of him.
There he was. My handsome mate.
With a wide smile on my face, I began weaving my way through the crowd toward him.
As I drew closer, I saw Damien speaking with a small group of people. They were visitors from other packs. I slowed my steps, not wanting to interrupt their conversation even though I knew Damien wouldn’t mind.
Then, something shifted.
A lady emerged from the group to face him. She was good-looking, stunning with yards of black hair and emerald eyes. The dress seemed molded on her body in all the right places, she looked like a Barbie doll with both grace and poise.
Damien's expression brightened, and his wolf was just beneath the surface. I knew that look; I’d seen it a thousand times before but never only for me.
I reached out to him, my fingers brushing Damien's arm almost desperately. "Damien, I—"
The sound that came from him silenced me.
It was a growl—low, guttural, and unmistakable.
The wolf inside of Damien emerged, golden eyes on fire as he said that single word that exploded my world.
"Mate."
Did he just call her his mate?
All the noise of the festival faded, all I could see was Damien's intense gaze and his unwavering focus on this beautiful stranger.
She smiled sweetly, her movements almost practiced, as she closed in toward Damien.
His blue eyes flashed toward me. For a moment, they held mine; confusion, regret, and something else that I didn't want to name-cross his face.
"Lyra," he said, his voice low as he reached out to me.
My stomach twisted, and Damien's hand hung in mid-reach as he turned toward me, unsure. His eyes jumped between me and the woman. "Lyra, I…” he began in that heavy voice.
I willed myself to smile-a bright but fake smile. "It's fine," I said, though he tried to interrupt. “Stay with her.”
"Lyra, wait…” Damien began again, a step in my direction.
I shook my head quickly, stepping back. "No, really. It's fine. I… should get going. I forgot I needed to be somewhere else." The excuse spilled out hurriedly and I turned and hurried away before he could respond.
I ran through the crowd, my body trembling with every step as I avoided their eyes. Yet I couldn't resist turning to glance back, hoping Damien was behind me.
But instead, what I saw made me weak. Damien extended his arm toward the woman. I watched in a daze as the stranger coyly placed her hand on his arm, her smile bright as they turned and began walking deeper into the square together.
I turned and broke into a run, tears freely flowing down my face, my chest heaving with sobs as I ran blindly.
The Chosen Mate ritual was not to be broken. Did he forget that? Why did it fail?
