Lyra adjusted the delicate lace on her ceremonial dress for the fourth time, her fingers trembling. "Oh, stop fidgeting!" her best friend Mara whispered, swatting her hands away. "You're going to wear a hole in it, and do you know how much that thing costs? My mother would murder you."

"I can't help it," Lyra replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart thumped against her ribcage like a drum demanding attention. "What if the Moon chooses someone awful for me? What if it's Jaxon? He smells like wet socks."

Mara snorted, quickly covering her mouth to stifle her laugh. "You're impossible. Jaxon isn't that bad."

Lyra raised a skeptical brow. "He once tried to eat a squirrel. Whole. Without cooking it."

Mara paused, her lips twitching before she burst into laughter. "Alright, fine. I see your point."

But Lyra couldn't bring herself to laugh. Tonight was too important. The Moonlit Rite was the most sacred tradition in Lunaris. Under the full moon, the goddess revealed each wolf's destined mate—a bond forged by fate and unbreakable. For as long as Lyra could remember, she'd dreamed of this night. Of locking eyes with her mate, of feeling the electric pull that bound their souls together.

What she hadn't dreamed of was the suffocating anxiety that came with it.

As the moon climbed higher into the sky, Lyra joined the other unmated wolves on the ceremonial grounds. The field was aglow with silver moonlight, casting a magical sheen over the gathering. Wolves of all ages stood in reverent silence, their gazes fixed on the Alpha standing at the center.

Darius.

He was impossible to ignore, a towering figure with piercing eyes and an aura that commanded respect. His sharp jawline and athletic build made him the subject of whispered admiration—and more than a few not-so-subtle stares. Lyra caught Mara glancing at him and nudged her with an elbow.

"Wipe that drool off your face," she muttered.

Mara grinned. "If the Moon picks him for you, I'm stealing him."

Lyra rolled her eyes. "He's not my type."

It was a blatant lie. Darius was every woman's type, and he knew it. His arrogance practically radiated off him like cologne. But that didn't stop Lyra's heart from skipping a beat when his gaze swept over the crowd and lingered on her for a fraction of a second.

The High Elder stepped forward, his voice booming. "Tonight, under the goddess's watchful gaze, the Moon shall reveal the bonds of fate. Let the Rite begin!"

The crowd hushed, the air thick with anticipation. The moon's glow intensified, bathing the field in ethereal light. Lyra felt her pulse quicken as the energy of the ceremony surged through her. This was it.

---

A soft wind whispered through the trees as the first pair was revealed. Gasps and cheers erupted as a young couple embraced, their joy contagious. Lyra smiled, her earlier nerves easing slightly. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so bad.

But as more pairs were revealed, her chest tightened. She felt the weight of each passing moment, each bond formed. Then, the moon's glow shifted, its light narrowing like a spotlight until it fell directly on her.

Her breath caught, wondering who the light will land upon.

And then—Darius.

The Alpha stood illuminated, his expression unreadable. The crowd fell silent, all eyes darting between the two of them. For a moment, everything else faded away. Lyra's heart soared, a giddy smile spreading across her face. Fate had chosen him for her. Darius, the Alpha.

But her joy was short-lived.

Darius stepped forward, his eyes cold and unyielding. "No."

The single word echoed like a thunderclap.

Lyra blinked, her smile faltering. "W-what?" she stammered, her voice barely audible.

Darius turned to the crowd, his posture rigid and commanding. "I reject this bond. She is weak, unworthy of standing by my side."

Gasps rippled through the audience. A few wolves exchanged wide-eyed glances, while others whispered furiously behind cupped hands. Lyra stood frozen, her mind struggling to process his words.

"You reject me?" she managed, her voice trembling.

Darius's gaze hardened. "I do. You lack the strength to be my Luna."

The humiliation was suffocating. Lyra felt the heat rise to her cheeks as tears threatened to spill. The crowd's whispers grew louder, each one a dagger to her pride.

"Maybe she should've stayed home," someone muttered.

"An Alpha with a runt? Unthinkable," another sneered.

Lyra's fists clenched at her sides. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but her body refused to move. Darius's rejection was a public spectacle, and she was the unwilling star.

And then, as if to twist the knife deeper, Darius turned his back on her. "I will choose a Luna worthy of standing beside me as I lead this pack," he declared, his voice carrying over the murmurs of the crowd.

Lyra's heart shattered. The weight of his rejection, the humiliation, and the pitying stares threatened to crush her. But as she looked around at the sea of judgmental faces, something inside her shifted.

She wouldn't let this define her.

Not yet.