u/Certified_BookWorm35

Chapter 1
Alpha Archer's POV
Hell. Colt is getting under my skin. That greedy asshole has come at my pack three times this month alone, all because he’s got his sights set on our gem mines. I’ll give him this—he’s persistent. But I’m not the kind of bastard who hands over what belongs to him, and Stonecrest Pack—every acre, every stone, every mine shaft—is mine.
“Nox,” I send through the mind-link, “are the borders locked down?”
Lennox is my Beta, but that title barely covers it. He’s been at my side since we were kids—scraped knees, first shifts, growing into the roles we carry now. He reads me without me having to explain, because he’s watched me become who I am.
“Yeah, Alpha. Borders are secured,” he answers. “Patrols reported Colt rushed in with forty warriors. We only had three guards on patrol in that stretch, so a few fence lines got torn up. I’ve already put in orders for replacement materials. Should be here by morning.”
With Colt hitting us this often, the damage stacks up fast. Lucky for Stonecrest, we can afford to fix what gets broken. And unlucky for us, that’s exactly why Colt keeps trying—our wealth, our mines, our leverage.
“Keep feeding me updates,” I tell him. “Triple patrols tonight and keep them heavy all week. I want everything reinforced before we even think about easing off.”
“Already handled,” Nox replies, amusement curling in his voice. “Patrols will be tighter than a she-wolf’s first time.”
I can practically see the grin he’s wearing.
Then he adds, “So… you still going out with Cordelia tonight?”
My jaw tightens. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Cordelia is a problem I didn’t ask for. For five years she’s been circling the Luna position like it’s a prize she can wear down with enough persistence. I’m not interested. Not even remotely. She isn’t my fated mate.
And yeah—at thirty, after twelve years as Alpha, I’ve been looking for my mate for a long time. That doesn’t mean I’ve lived like a monk. A man has needs, and I’ve had women who understood what it was: a release, an hour, no strings, no repeats. I’m careful, too. I’m not letting anyone trap me with a claim of bonding or a kid that isn’t mine.
Mama raised me to have manners, but I’d rather chew glass than touch Cordelia. She’s trouble wrapped in delusion. The only reason she’s still in my orbit is because I promised my late father’s Beta—on his deathbed—that I’d look out for his daughter. Somewhere along the line, she twisted “look out for her” into “make her Luna.” Not happening. The only woman who’ll ever stand at my side is my fated mate.
Nox’s voice turns even more smug. “She’s telling people you’ve got a date planned. Dinner, a show—the whole thing. You trying to give her a private show, Alpha?”
My temper flares. “Do I need to introduce my fist to your face, Nox? I haven’t planned a damn thing with that lunatic, and I’m not going to. I need to figure out how to keep her busy and away from me before I snap and kill her. She’s irritating as fuck.”
“Sounds like she wants to play ‘pin the she-wolf on the Alpha,’” he says, and now he’s close enough that I hear the laughter he’s holding back. “Want me to have an omega pull your suit?”
I bare my teeth in a grin that isn’t friendly. “You want to run patrols for the next week? Lydia would probably love a quiet floor while I work you into the ground.”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “So that’s a no on the suit. Understood.” His voice softens with satisfaction. “If you’ll excuse me, my beautiful mate is waiting, and she’s begging to be teased by her devoted mate.”
I huff a laugh despite myself. “Get out of here, Nox. Tell Lydia I said hi.”
He jogs ahead, light and unburdened, while I follow at a steady pace toward the pack house. I’m glad he found his mate early. I am.
But envy still sinks its claws in.
He has someone waiting for him at night. My Gamma does too—both of them tucked away on their floors, wrapped up in the comfort of a bond I haven’t been given. Me? I walk into an empty suite. Some nights I don’t even stay there. I’ll shift and hunt until exhaustion drags me under, just to avoid staring at that bed and feeling the silence crowd in.
Inside the pack house, the sound hits my ears like claws on a chalkboard.
I stop, close my eyes for half a second, and internally curse. Not again.
Cordelia is coming toward me like she owns the hallway, swaying as if she has curves to sway. She’s all angles and bones—honestly, does she ever eat? She seems to think she’s seductive, but it’s like watching a scrawny teenage boy try to flirt.
“Hello, Alpha,” she purrs, laying it on thick.
I don’t respond fast enough for her liking, so she presses forward. “I was thinking we could go out tonight. You and me. Dinner?” She steps closer, attempting to roll her hips.
“Cordelia,” I let out a long breath. “How many ways do I need to say this? We aren’t going anywhere together. I just got done fighting Colt. I’m filthy, I’m tired, and I’m going to shower and sleep. If you want to go out, go enjoy yourself—alone.”
I turn to leave.
“I could come with you,” she calls after me, voice turning husky. “Help you clean up, Alpha.”
My patience frays to a thread. I look back, letting the edge into my tone. “For fuck’s sake. Cordelia—whatever fantasy you’re building, it’s not real. This is not happening. I have no interest in you. I’m not playing hard to get. I don’t secretly want you. I’m not ‘sending signals.’ I’m being very clear. Have a good evening.”
Harsh, maybe. But I’ve repeated myself so many times that soft words feel pointless.
I don’t stop until I reach my suite.
In the en-suite bathroom, I peel off my ruined clothes and step into the shower. I twist the handle and let the water run cold at first, waiting for the heat to chase it through. The chill slaps my skin, then warmth follows, and I scrub down until the grime and sweat are sliding away.
And like always, my mind drifts.
Where is she? What does my mate look like?
I hope she’s curvy. I like a woman with softness and weight—something real to hold. I’m built big: six-five, two-eighty, solid muscle. A tiny woman might snap under me. I’d rather have a mate with meat on her bones. The bone is for the wolf; the meat is for the man.
And I don’t just want a body. I want a person.
I want her to have a life that’s hers—interests, passions, things she cares about when I’m not in the room. I’d love to share those things with her, but I don’t want a Luna who needs me as her only entertainment. I want us to come home and trade stories, both of us lit up by our own days. I want her comfortable enough around me to be fully herself.
Sass wouldn’t hurt either.
A Luna can be soft and still stand her ground. She can be warm and sharp, gentle and unafraid. That kind of balance—strength with tenderness—that’s what I picture.
I tip my head back, eyes closed, letting the water rinse away the last of the soap. When I’m done, I shut it off, towel dry, and head into my walk-in closet.
Half of it has been waiting.
I’ve kept that space open for my fated mate from the beginning, and the omegas make sure it stays spotless—clean, dust-free, ready for the day I finally bring her home.
Then I climb into my oversized bed.
Alone. Again.
My gaze drifts to the empty side beside me, and the ache returns—sharp and familiar—because I don’t know if I’ll ever meet her.
I close my eyes anyway, and I let the night take me, restless and wanting.
Chapter 2
Raven's POV
A day off is almost mythical for me, so I’m up early, grinning like an idiot while I stack brisket onto bread. It’s leftovers from the batch I smoked earlier this week—my favorite kind of “fancy.” I love doing my own meat, even if my family acts like it’s tacky, like smoke and salt somehow stain their precious reputation.
As the Beta’s daughter, I can eat. I can also fight. Dad trains me in private, and I’ve earned every bruise and callus. What I’m not allowed to do is step onto the training grounds with everyone else, because the sight of me is inconvenient.
I don’t fit what they want the pack to see.
Other she-wolves are sleek and pretty—soft in the right places, toned in the right ways. I’m chubby. Five-nine, one-eighty, and clearly not the delicate little picture they like to hang on their walls. It doesn’t bother me the way it bothers them. I work out, and I love food. Both matter. If I didn’t inherit whatever magic gene keeps wolves effortlessly sculpted, then fine. Maybe there’s a reason I’m built like this, and nobody’s clever enough to know it yet.
But my body isn’t the real problem.
The real reason I stay hidden is because I’m proof my father made a mess.
I’m his secret that isn’t supposed to have a voice. The former beta of Stormfang Pack had a child outside the “proper” story, and my existence threatens the version of him he prefers the world to believe. His name matters more than my childhood ever did.
Rowena never paid that price.
My half-sister got the life pups are supposed to get—classes, friends, trips, laughter that carried down hallways instead of being swallowed behind closed doors. Dad didn’t send me to school. He gave me basics himself: reading, writing, enough math to function. Then he handed me books and told me to teach myself the rest.
Today, though, I’m choosing something for me.
I want my guitar. I want quiet. I want a picnic where nobody calls my name just to remind me I’m useful.
And Runa—my wolf—needs air.
I don’t let her run the way she deserves. Appearances come first in this house, and a free, wild wolf doesn’t match the polished mask my family wears. It’s depressing, but I’ve learned how to survive it: keep your head down, smile when you’re told, pretend it doesn’t hurt until you can breathe again.
I load my backpack—brisket sandwiches, salted caramel brownies, strawberries, and a few water bottles—then slip out toward the woods.
Runa presses against my thoughts, eager and bright. She wants the lake.
I give in immediately. The day is too beautiful to argue with—sun in the leaves, clean wind, the promise of food and peace.
“Damn right,” Runa snickers, delighted. Days like this are rare. We get one day a month. The rest of the time it’s chores, meals, scrubbing, training—work that starts in the morning and doesn’t end until late.
Jade makes sure of it.
My stepmother has never liked me. Before my father, Harlan, found his fated mate, he had been with my mother. My mother died giving birth to me, and Dad brought me home because he wasn’t going to abandon an infant.
Love wasn’t the reason.
Responsibility was.
When I was two, he met Jade—his fated mate. She wanted me gone. Dad refused, not because he cherished me, but because he believed the burden was his to carry.
Then Rowena was born, and the difference between “wanted” and “kept” became unmistakable.
Rowena was adored.
I was tolerated.
Jade took Dad’s guilt and shaped it into a cage for me. She made it clear I wasn’t welcome, but she also made it clear her mate was obligated, so she would “allow” me to remain—up in the attic, out of sight, doing the work of omegas. On top of that, I was assigned to Rowena like a personal servant, expected to appear the second she snapped her fingers.
By the time I was ten, my bedroom had been repurposed into Rowena’s walk-in closet.
Not a metaphor. An actual closet.
Dad spent thousands to have it custom designed. My belongings were dumped into boxes and hauled upstairs, and the attic became mine by default.
If anyone saw me, Dad called me his ward.
Not his daughter.
A ward didn’t require pride. A ward didn’t deserve the same privileges. A ward could be explained away.
Over the years, Rowena learned the lesson Jade taught her: I wasn’t family—I was staff. Jade’s cruelty never needed creativity. She insulted me, mocked me, found little ways to grind me down and then acted surprised when I didn’t sparkle.
Rowena copied her.
When I was younger, I used to beg the moon goddess to take me somewhere else. Nothing changed. So I changed. I got quiet. I disappeared when I could. I made myself small in a house that already wanted me invisible.
Dad still trained me every morning, always away from other eyes, because he didn’t want anyone seeing the chubby, illegitimate daughter he pretended not to have. I pushed for one mercy—one day each month to rest, to breathe, to exist without orders.
He finally agreed.
Jade hated it.
I treasured it.
And that’s how I end up here: beside the lake, alone, eating lunch, guitar across my lap, fingers moving over strings while the world stays quiet long enough for me to remember what peace feels like.
Then Runa stiffens.
‘Raven… I don’t think we’re alone.’
The shift in her tone makes my skin prickle. I stop playing and set the guitar down gently, listening.
‘Do you smell danger, Rue?’ I scan the trees, the shoreline, the shadows where sunlight can’t quite reach.
And then a scent slams into me—clean and sharp, like fresh-cut grass and cedar.
It’s so good it almost makes me dizzy.
I turn toward it.
Alpha Colt stands there.
Runa surges forward like a shout. “MATE!”
My heart jumps so hard it hurts. A smile tugs at my mouth before I can stop it. Excitement sparks through me, bright and unreal.
My fated mate.
The moon goddess chose Alpha Colt for me.
I’ve heard Rowena gush about him—how handsome he is, how kind he acts, how everyone likes him. She keeps pictures of him in her room, like she’s been practicing devotion in advance. She’s been chasing his attention for ages, but she doesn’t turn eighteen until next week.
I’m twenty-three.
And because I’m rarely allowed out, and because my single day off is usually spent alone, I’ve never found my mate.
The pictures hadn’t prepared me. Up close, Colt is unfairly attractive.
I remember what I’ve read in old books Dad gave me, and what I’ve overheard from omegas who have mates: fated mates are the moon goddess’ will, two halves of the same soul. We’re meant to fit, to balance, to love without conditions.
I believed it was possible, even if I’d never had it.
Dad may not want me, but I’ve seen the way he looks at Jade—like the world narrows down to her and nothing else matters. That kind of devotion exists.
When I was a kid, I used to imagine someone looking at me like that.
Cherished.
Wanted.
I’d stopped expecting it.
So when Alpha Colt is the one standing in front of me, fate feels almost like a joke that finally decided to be kind.
I take a step toward him.
And the expression on his face turns my excitement cold.
He isn’t smiling. He isn’t surprised in a good way. His mouth twists as if he’s tasting something bitter.
Disgust.
Anger.
Maybe both.
‘Runa… are you sure?’ I ask inside my head, dread creeping in. ‘He doesn’t look happy to see us.’
‘Yes!’ she yips insistently. ‘He’s ours. Go, Raven. I want our mate!’
I start forward again.
“Stop.” Colt’s voice cuts through the air. “This has to be wrong. I could never be mated to someone like… you.”
It’s like my hope takes flight and gets shot down in the same second.
Runa lets out a sound of pure grief, a wail that shakes through my bones.
My eyes burn.
“Someone like me?” My voice comes out thin.
He looks me over without hiding it, as if he’s inspecting something defective.
“Yes. Look at you. No Alpha wants a Luna who looks like that. You’re not refined. Your clothes are worn. And you’re not attractive.” His lip curls. “Maybe if you lost weight you’d be… passable. The moon goddess made a mistake. There’s no way I’m accepting you. What’s your name?”
“Raven Larkin,” I say.
I already know what happens next. Everyone says rejection is rare.
They also say it destroys you.
My lips tremble. Tears sting, threatening to spill, and I force myself to stand still—bracing for the blow I can see coming.
Colt’s eyes are hard. “Let’s finish this. I have things to do. I need a strong and beautiful Luna at my side.” He draws himself up like he’s delivering an order. “I, Alpha Colt Norwood of the Stormfang Pack, reject you, Raven Larkin, as my mate and Luna.”
Pain detonates in my chest.
It feels like something reaches inside me and tears everything open, scooping me hollow. It’s the worst agony I’ve ever known, and it doesn’t stop at my skin—it rips through Runa too.
She howls, frantic, shattered.
But I won’t give him the satisfaction of watching me break.
I lock my body in place and force my face into stillness, even as my heart feels like it’s being carved out.
The sooner it’s done, the sooner Runa and I can crawl somewhere private and survive it.
“I, Raven Larkin, accept your rejection.”
The words land like a final execution.
Colt jerks and clamps a hand to his chest, breathing hard as the bond snaps back against him. He stands there for a couple of minutes, fighting for control, and then he straightens.
I still haven’t moved.
Not yet. Not until I’m alone.
His gaze sharpens. “You won’t tell anyone about this. Do you understand?”
I can’t find enough strength for a real answer. I nod.
“Good.” His voice turns colder. “I can’t have people knowing I was mated to a she-wolf like you.”
Then he turns and walks away.
I make it back to the spot by the lake like I’m walking through deep water. I sit beside my guitar.
And then whatever was holding me together gives out.
I clutch my chest and sob until my throat aches, until the sunlight shifts and the hours blur. Runa, weakened by the rejection, retreats to the back of my mind. She still speaks to me, but her voice is dim now—like she’s far away, curled up and hurting.
I’ve never felt so alone.
Fated mates are supposed to love each other. No matter what.
He was supposed to protect me. To cherish me.
Instead, I have never felt more unwanted in my life.
Chapter 3
Raven's POV
Two months. That’s how long it has been since the rejection.
The first week nearly crushed me. Rowena was about to turn eighteen, and everything for her celebration landed on my shoulders—hemming the dress, planning the dinner, baking the cake, dressing the house up, all of it. None of it could wait.
The day Alpha Colt rejected me, I barely made it back. He walked away like I was nothing and didn’t even look over his shoulder. I had trudged more than two miles while still weak, all the way to the attic room that passes for mine. Once the door shut, I cried until my chest hurt, then slept far past my usual time.
My father saw how wrecked I looked. He didn’t ask why—I doubt he cared—but for once he didn’t force training on me. He told me to sleep until chores needed doing.
That morning, I had gotten three extra hours, and even then my bones felt hollow when I dragged myself downstairs to the kitchen.
Since then, the only “break” I’ve had was hiding alone in the attic. Rowena turned eighteen, got her wolf, basked in everyone’s praise, and I stayed where nobody had to remember I existed. The one thing she didn’t get that night was her fated mate.
When she does find him, he won’t turn her away. He’ll want her. He’ll treat her like she’s precious.
And that’s the sick joke—she looks down on everyone, acts like the pack is lucky to breathe near her, and people still scramble to earn her approval. I’ve stopped trying to understand it. I just… endure her.
I’ve also stopped expecting anything good for myself. Second-chance mates are rare, at least from what I’ve read, and I’m never allowed out where I could meet anyone anyway. Even if the moon goddess felt generous, how would she deliver that kindness to someone kept out of sight?
At least Alpha Colt didn’t attend Rowena’s birthday. I didn’t have to stand in the same room with him while I was still bleeding inside.
The rejection—and the very real chance that I’ll never have a mate—has been sitting on my chest for weeks. Runa has been returning little by little. As the ache dulled, she started reaching for me again, talking more. She’s quieter now, though. Less sharp. I can’t blame her.
I’m quieter too.
Something in me went out that day. Anything decent I’ve ever been given has been snatched away sooner or later. Maybe I should’ve known my mate wouldn’t want me either. With women like Rowena and the other beautiful she-wolves in the pack—women who are all, I’m sure, prettier than I am—who would choose a frumpy, soft, chubby girl?
I shove the spiral of thoughts aside and head downstairs.
The moment I step into the room, my stepmother is already staring at me, too bright-eyed, too eager. Her smile is wide, but it doesn’t reach anything warm.
“Raven! Finally,” she says, voice dripping with false cheer that turns into a sneer midway through. “I was about to come hunt you down.” She looks at me like I’ve ruined her breakfast just by existing.
I let out a slow breath. “What do you need, Jade?”
“We’re having an honored guest for dinner,” she announces. “Alpha Colt has decided he’s taking a chosen mate. He intends to dine with women he considers suitable to be his Luna.” Her eyes sharpen. “He’ll be here tonight—for Rowena. So I need a flawless dinner. Exceptional, Raven.”
The floor tilts.
My vision swims, and for a second it feels like the walls are sliding sideways. “Alpha Colt… here? Tonight?”
A chosen mate.
My fated mate. The one who rejected me. Coming to my father’s home to sit across from Rowena and decide if she’s worthy.
Not me.
I didn’t think anything could grind more salt into the wound than what I’ve already lived through, but apparently it can. I wonder, hazily, if the moon goddess enjoys watching me break.
Jade is suddenly too close. “RAVEN! Are you listening?”
Her shout yanks me back.
“Yes,” I manage, swallowing hard. “Yes, Jade. I’m sorry. I’ll prepare something special.” I keep my voice steady while I cage the tears.
“You will,” she says, satisfied. “And when everything is ready to be served, you’ll disappear. I’m not having you tainting this family with your presence.” Her lip curls. “Go out the back. Don’t come back until midnight. Alpha Colt deserves time alone with Rowena.”
Right on cue, Rowena drifts in, having caught the end. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing she’s heard all week.
“If it were my choice,” she says, eyes gleaming, “you’d be gone for good. Alpha Colt is going to fall for me. When I become his Luna, I’ll make sure you’re banished. I’m not letting you smear my name.” Her smile turns ugly. “The fat bastard beta’s mistake.”
Fat barely lands.
Bastard does.
It burns, but I keep my face smooth. My eyes have dimmed over the last two months, but I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
“At least I won’t be the one he settles for,” I say evenly. “He’s choosing because he won’t wait for his fated mate. He’ll pick a chosen mate instead.” My throat tightens, but I push through. “Does that feel like being treasured, Rowena?”
Her expression twists, sharp and sudden, like she’s forgotten how to control it. The distortion is almost comical.
“At least I’ll be mated and marked,” she spits. “If it isn’t Alpha Colt, it’ll be someone with status. What about you, Raven? You’re a fat bastard. Your own family won’t even claim you—they just see a stain. That’s all you’ll ever be. A servant in your father’s house. My servant.”
“ENOUGH!”
My father storms in, anger rolling off him. For a heartbeat, I let myself hope he’s heard what she said—heard the word bastard, heard the contempt.
I’m wrong.
“RAVEN!” he bellows, glaring at me like I started this. “For once, can you stop provoking your sister?”
I stare at him, stunned. I’m the one being shredded, and he’s defending her.
He keeps going. “Alpha Colt is coming tonight to meet with us and get to know Rowena. This is an opportunity for our family. Now go—start cleaning, start dinner. Move.”
“Our family,” I echo quietly.
Not mine.
“You mean your family,” I say, my voice calm in a way that surprises even me. “I’ve never been wanted here. Not even by you.”
Then I turn and walk to the kitchen before the tears can spill—before they can keep throwing words at me until I crack in front of them.
Hours disappear into work.
By the time I’m nearing the end, everything has to be timed perfectly. Alpha Colt is meant to arrive at six. When I check the clock again, it’s close to five.
The turducken in the oven is nearly finished. I’ve planned the sides carefully: maple-balsamic roasted Brussels sprouts, and mushroom risotto finished with white truffle oil. Bread rolls are cooling, still smelling like butter.
For dessert, I made a French apple tart, plus homemade vanilla bean ice cream and caramel syrup for the top.
I’m not allowed to eat any of it, no matter how much of my day I poured into making it. So I hand the omegas detailed instructions—how to plate the main course, how to arrange the tart, how to drizzle the caramel. I set coffee and tea up as well, not knowing which Alpha Colt will want but refusing to be caught unprepared.
Then I start assembling my own food for later. If I’m forced out all evening, I need something, or I won’t eat at all today.
I put together pork shoulder sandwiches, toss in chips, peanut butter crackers, fruit, chocolate chip cookies, and several bottles of water. My backpack gets heavier with each item. I add a blanket, a jacket, a flashlight, and a book.
Rowena saunters into the kitchen while I’m doing a final check.
“Why are you still here?” she snaps. “Leave. What if Alpha Colt shows up early? Goddess, Raven—can you get any dumber?”
I keep my tone level. “I’m making sure everything is ready. You, of all people, should be grateful for the work I did for you today.” I meet her stare without blinking. “And now that it is ready, I’m going. Trust me—I don’t want to be here either.”
I turn away from her and face the omegas as I sling my backpack onto my shoulder. “Any questions before I go?”
One of them shakes her head. “No, Ms. Raven. We’ve got it. Thank you for making all of this. None of us could cook like this.”
“You’re welcome,” I tell them. “Good luck tonight. Good night.”
I walk out without a word for Rowena, Jade, or the man I’m supposed to call my father.
They’ve made it clear they don’t want me.
So I leave.
Chapter 4
Raven's POV
I keep walking, letting the trees swallow up the distance between me and the house, and my mind insists on replaying every choice like I ever had a real chance. But I haven’t. Not since I was born. The day my father took me in and found his fated mate, my path was already set, and there was never a version of my life where I came out on top.
I’ve accepted that.
All I’m asking for now is one mercy: that Alpha Colt picks anyone—anyone—except Rowena for his Luna. If Rowena becomes Luna, she can toss me out like trash. I have nowhere to go. And I don’t think I would last as a rogue.
Runa is still simmering, wounded and furious in a way that makes my chest ache.
‘We were meant to be his mate,’ she snaps. ‘The Moon Goddess doesn’t get it wrong, Raven. If he rejected us, he spit on her. She’ll make him pay.’
‘I’m not arguing with you,’ I answer, voice tight. ‘I just… what does that mean for us?’
‘It means she hasn’t forgotten.’ Runa’s tone turns hard with certainty. ‘We wait and see what she’s set in motion.’
The forest opens into our usual clearing. Dusk is settling fast, the last light thinning between branches, and I don’t stay out in the middle like a target. Instead, I sink back into the treeline where shadows can hide me.
I’ve fought rogues before. Tonight I’m tired, alone, and I don’t want to be noticed.
‘Runa,’ I murmur, ‘after we eat… want to run? I know it’s been a while with everything going on, but we could use it.’
Her excitement hits instantly. ‘Yes. Please. We only get one day off a month, and we haven’t gone out in two months. I need to burn this off.’
Guilt twists in me. ‘I’m sorry. I know this is hell for you too.’
‘Don’t you dare apologize,’ she bites back. ‘Colt did this. He didn’t deserve us. And thank the goddess he’s not our mate anymore. That would have ended badly.’
I eat some of what I brought and save the rest. Runa might share my soft edges, but she’s quick—faster than most pack wolves I’ve watched—and she burns through energy like kindling. Fast legs, fast hunger.
Behind a thick trunk, I tug my clothes off, shivering at the cold bite in the air. I fold everything neatly into my backpack, then pull a shift.
Runa lands on four paws, scoops the bag up, and bolts deeper into the trees.
Wind rakes through our fur. The ground pounds under us. For the first time in months, it feels like we can breathe. Like we aren’t ruined. Like we’re… normal.
An hour passes and Runa still wants more. I let myself loosen, let myself stop calculating the future for a few precious minutes.
Bliss.
And then—nothing.
Runa freezes so abruptly it snaps me back like a leash.
‘Runa? What—what is it? Did we cross the border?’
My nose flares.
Salted citrus. Driftwood.
Oh, no.
Runa whimpers. Her head drops; her ears flatten. Fear rolls through her, thick and sharp, and then she says the one word I never expected to hear from her again.
‘Mate,’ she whispers.
Panic floods me. ‘We’re leaving. Now. We are not surviving another rejection.’
Runa pivots—ready to run—when a voice cracks through the trees.
“MATE! STOP WHERE YOU ARE!”
Damn it.
That voice is rich, commanding—an Alpha voice. Of course it is. Why is it always an Alpha? Why me?
This is going to hurt. I can already feel it.
“Please don’t go,” he calls, the edge turning unexpectedly soft. “I might be a feared Alpha… but not to you. Never you.”
Sincere. Convincing.
Except he hasn’t seen me yet.
I’m still in wolf form, and Runa is beautiful—black fur with auburn undertones, emerald eyes like mine. He can want that. He can imagine something impressive.
Once he sees the rest of us? That’ll vanish.
We huff, the same thought shared between us.
‘Let’s get it over with,’ I tell her. ‘Maybe we can get him to wait until after we eat. At least then we won’t be weak when it happens.’
Runa goes quiet, nerves buzzing.
I shift back with my spine still angled away from him. For a second I think I hear him inhale sharply.
My shoulders sag anyway. My chin dips.
Barely audible, I say, “Could you… give me a moment to get dressed before we talk?”
“Of course, mate.” His tone is steady, almost warm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He sounds—excited. Like he’s smiling.
It won’t last.
I pull my clothes on quickly, sling the backpack over my shoulder, and draw in a long breath.
‘It’s okay,’ I tell Runa. ‘We can do this. We’re going to be fine.’
I step out from behind the tree and face him.
And my breath catches.
Goddess.
He’s unreal. Broad shoulders, hard muscle, that effortless confidence that fills the space around him. His hair is a shade lighter than chestnut, and his eyes—crystal blue—are the brightest thing in the dimming forest. Sun-kissed caramel skin, the kind that says he lives outside and works with his hands. Rugged, dangerous, beautiful.
Alpha Colt doesn’t even compare.
My body reacts before my brain can catch up, my core tightening with an ache I hate myself for.
‘That’s not the only reason we’re reacting,’ Runa says suddenly, shoving my focus downward—right to the unmistakable bulge straining his shorts.
I almost choke.
Somehow, her sass has crawled back out of hiding, and the relief of it is startling.
‘Don’t celebrate yet, Rue,’ I warn. ‘Men that perfect don’t keep mates like us. Let’s just get through this.’
Runa’s confidence falters. She whimpers inside my head because she understands exactly what I’m bracing for.
He’s staring at me like he’s trying to memorize me, like it’s indecent how openly he’s looking.
Self-consciousness stabs. I wrap my arms around myself and drop my gaze.
“Would you mind waiting a few minutes?” I ask quietly. “My wolf has been running for over an hour. She burns energy faster than most. We just… want to eat first. Have some strength before you reject us.”
His expression turns incredulous. “Reject you? Why the hell would I do that, mate?”
I swallow. “I know I’m not Luna material. And I’m not beautiful. You don’t have to pretend, Alpha.”
I can’t look at him. I can’t watch it happen.
He steps closer anyway—careful, deliberate—and lifts my chin with a finger until I’m forced to meet his eyes.
The contact sends a sharp jolt through me, straight to my core.
Then he speaks, voice low and edged with certainty. “First, I don’t know who convinced you you aren’t beautiful, but they lied. You are fucking gorgeous—do you hear me? The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, darling. Second… you’re my mate. That makes you my Luna. Anyone who challenges it can forfeit their life.”
One: that southern drawl.
Goddess, it does something to me.
Two: his eyes aren’t slipping. I don’t see deception there. I see conviction.
‘Runa,’ I ask carefully, ‘is he lying?’
The Moon Goddess gave her a gift for sniffing out dishonesty. If anyone can read the truth, it’s her.
‘He’s telling the truth,’ she answers at once. Then, without missing a beat: ‘Also his accent is hot, and have you seen his body? Yummy.’
I roll my eyes inside my skull. ‘Focus.’
‘Oh, I’m focused,’ she purrs, practically wiggling invisible eyebrows.
I shove her aside and look back at him. “So… Alpha. What are you doing all the way out here in Stormfang?”
One eyebrow lifts, and somehow even that is unfairly attractive. “Darling,” he says, “you’re in Stonecrest territory.”
My stomach drops. “We’re in Stonecrest?”
Of course we are. Runa always runs too far when she finally gets free.
Then it clicks.
“You said Alpha,” I breathe. “Stonecrest… you’re the Alpha. You’re—” My voice climbs with each word. “Alpha Archer?”
Panic sparks hot. ‘Runa. That’s the cruelest Alpha in the entire southwestern region. That’s him. He’s our mate?’
Runa flips in my mind like she’s sunning herself, fear already evaporating. ‘Yes, Raven. And he wants us. How lucky are we?’ She’s practically purring like a minx.
He smirks, clearly entertained. “Where exactly did you think you were, little mate?”
“Stormfang,” I answer, swallowing hard. “My pack.”
The amusement drains from his face in an instant, replaced by something cold. “You’re from Stormfang,” he says slowly. “Alpha Colt is your Alpha?”
Why should that matter?
“Yes,” I admit. “Unfortunately… in more ways than one.” I clamp down on the bitterness before it spills.
Alpha Archer is already proving to be everything Colt never was—at least to my face.
He studies me like he’s making a decision. “What’s your name, darling?”
“Raven Larkin.” I force the next words out. “Did you change your mind when you found out where I’m from? Are you going to reject me because I’m Stormfang?”
When Colt asked my name, it was right before he crushed me.
So I can’t stop waiting for the same blade.
Archer’s gaze sharpens. “You’re expecting me to reject you any second,” he says, voice quieter now. “Why, Raven? What happened to you?”
I exhale, long and tired. Fine. Rip it open. The sooner he knows, the sooner he can feel relieved it isn’t just him.
“You aren’t my first mate,” I say. “I met my mate two months ago. The second he saw me… he rejected me.”
His eyes darken, a storm gathering behind the blue.
He looks upset—angry, even.
At me?
Then he speaks, and the words hit like something I’ve never been allowed to have.
“First,” he says, “I’m glad he rejected you. Because now you’re mine, and I’m not just happy—I’m damn ecstatic that you’re mine. Second, whoever that first mate was, he was a dumbass not to recognize what he had. His loss. My gain, sweetheart.” His jaw tightens. “Was he in Stormfang?”
I just stare.
‘Raven,’ Runa sighs dreamily, ‘I told you. He wants us. I can’t wait to meet his wolf. I bet he’s as sexy as Archer.’
She’s already gone—head over heels, no hesitation, no caution.
Ecstatic.
No one has ever used that word with me in the same sentence.
“Yes,” I manage. “He’s Stormfang.” My throat tightens. “And… he’s the one who told me I wasn’t Luna material.”
Archer looks down, shaking his head slowly, hands settling on his hips like he has no idea what he’s doing to my concentration.
Then he glances back up with a sharp, almost dangerous smile. “Why would he say you aren’t Luna material?” A beat. “Was your mate Alpha Colt?”
He chuckles like it’s absurd.
I stare at the ground, shame crawling up my neck, and answer in a voice so small it barely exists.
“Yes.”
When I lift my eyes again, rage is pouring off Alpha Archer’s aura in waves.