For five years, I wore a mating band that never bound me beneath the moon.
There was no Moon Rite. No silver altar dusted with nightbloom petals. No packs gathered in ceremonial rows. No vows spoken beneath the blessing of the Full Moon. Only a thin iron ring and a private contract Thorne, the Alpha of Ridgefern Territory, claimed was enough.
We never once stood inside a Moon Hall. Each time I asked, he said we would “complete the bond later,” that formal recognition could wait until the borders were stable and the council stopped pressing him. Later never came.
I remembered it clearly—just a week ago.
I was folding his tunics in our shared chamber, smoothing the creases from fabric scented with frost and iron, when I finally found the courage to speak.
“Thorne,” I said softly, keeping my voice steady, “the fifth moon cycle since our bond is coming. Maybe… maybe we could hold the Rite this time? Properly. Just the two of us, even.”
He didn’t look away from the reports glowing beneath his claw-marked fingers.
“Why?” he said flatly. “We’re already bound. Ceremonies are for wolves who crave attention.”
“You promised we would,” I murmured. “You said once the territory wasn’t so strained—”
His fingers stilled.
“And now you’re whining,” he cut in coldly. “Enough, Rayna. We don’t waste silver and moonfire on pointless rituals.”
As always, I swallowed my words.
I let the silence stretch. I pushed the ache down where it wouldn’t trouble him.
But today—today was different.
Today marked five years since the night I believed I became his Luna. Thorne said he couldn’t mark the date. Border disputes. Council summons. Too much pressure. Not even an hour to spare.
I didn’t argue. I never did.
I told myself it wasn’t about recognition. That it wasn’t about standing beneath the moon while the pack acknowledged me.
I decided I would prepare his favorite meal instead. Light moonlamps. Burn calming herbs. Wait for him.
It wasn’t grand, but it was something. My quiet way of honoring a bond no one else had witnessed.
So I went to the market at dawn.
I moved slowly through the stalls carved from old stone, choosing herbs and meat with care, checking each cut twice. I even bought a bundle of white moon-lilies—the kind he once said reminded him of peace, back when he still visited my old den.
I held them close as I walked home, embarrassed by the small, fragile hope blooming in my chest.
I was only a street away from the Council Hall when I felt it.
A sharp pull in my core. A warning, instinctive and wrong.
I hadn’t planned to look. I had no reason to stop.
But my steps slowed anyway.
And then I saw them.
Thorne.
And Rionna.
My sister—who had vanished five years ago, abandoning her pack bond without a trace.
They emerged from the Council Hall together, her arm looped through his, their auras brushing easily, familiarly.
I froze.
The satchels slipped in my hands. The moon-lilies nearly fell.
Rionna held a parchment stamped with glowing silver runes.
A completed mate registration.
My stomach turned to ice.
Her voice drifted toward me, uncertain. “Are you sure this is allowed?” she asked him. “What about Rayna? She’s still bonded to you, isn’t she?”
Thorne didn’t hesitate.
“I don’t care about her,” he said. “That wasn’t a true bond. I never brought her before the Council for a reason. This—” he gestured to the parchment “—this is real. Now that you’re back, I’ll deal with her soon.”
The world rang in my ears.
Rionna’s voice trembled. “You still want me? Even after I fled? I thought you’d hate me. I was terrified back then.”
He turned to her with a softness I had once mistaken as love.
“It was always you,” he said. “You weren’t ready before. That’s all. Now you are.”
He bent and kissed her.
My breath lodged painfully in my throat.
She pulled back slightly. “And my sister… did you ever care for her at all?”
He laughed under his breath.
“Never,” he said. “She was convenient. She looks like you. She kept the den warm. That was her use.”
Something inside me cracked.
Five years ago, that Moon Rite was meant for them.
Rionna and Thorne.
The packs had gathered. The altar was prepared. The moon was full.
But then she disappeared.
No message. No explanation.
Gone.
Thorne had shattered that night. I found him drunk in a border tavern, shaking, staring into nothing.
I sat beside him.
I listened.
I stayed.
When he cried, I didn’t move away.
When he leaned close, I didn’t stop him.
And when he kissed me, I let it happen.
A week later, he asked me to become his mate.
I said yes.
I thought I was saving him.
I thought I was choosing love.
I thought I mattered.
But standing there, hidden behind the stone pillar of the Council Hall, I finally understood.
Every touch.
Every whispered promise.
Every claim of love.
They were echoes. Borrowed. Never mine.
Then more voices joined them.
Arion. And Axton. My elder brothers.
“You already sealed the bond?” Arion said approvingly. “Fast work.”
Axton laughed. “What about the public Rite? We should move Rayna out first. She’ll cause trouble if she finds out. Maybe exile her to a border pack.”
My hand clenched against the stone wall until my skin split.
Arion added lightly, “Best to deal with her soon. She’s unstable.”
They laughed.
All of them.
The same brothers who once cursed Rionna for running. The same ones who swore to protect me.
Now they were laughing about erasing me.
A strange numbness settled over me.
I wasn’t just unwanted.
I was a substitute. A mistake.
I turned away.
My feet carried me forward without thought.
I ran. Past the gates. Past the market. Past the ringing in my ears.
My lungs burned. My vision blurred. The world narrowed to motion and noise.
I heard nothing clearly. Except… a horn. The screech of brakes. And then…
Impact.
The world collapsed inward.
And everything went black.
