And the great, ceremonial hall of the Blackwood Pack began to radiate the echoing power of ages, whereby stone walls, engraved and marked with the sigils of past Alphas, blazed in the shining light of a full moon. Tonight, it vibrated with anticipation. Wolves in human form packed the hall, their murmurs rising and falling in a tidal cadence, the scent of pine and damp earth mingling with tension in the air.
Ella Winters edged herself toward the outer fringes of the party, her fingers rubbing nervously on the material of her dress. She felt small compared with so many viewers staring at her. The petite she-wolf did her best to focus on the dancing flutter of the torchlight, but her gaze kept drifting to the dais at the center of the room—where he stood.
Alpha Damon Blackwood.
Damon was tall and broad-shouldered, commanding attention, though making no apparent effort to hold it. A sprinkling of black hair mussed set off the perfectly cut shirt he wore. Amber's eyes glowed, sharp, unyielding, and watchful; they moved around the room—a predator surveying his territory.
Her heart thundered with anticipation. She'd loved him since before memories stretched back. He was her mate, decreed by the moon itself. Tonight, their bond would be proclaimed before the pack, making things concrete.
Yet, the ease was fractured by a gnawing sense that rubbed at her. Damon hadn't glanced her way all evening.
"Ready, Ella?" The soft voice whispered beside her.
She turned to her friend Marcy, who was grinning confidently. Marcy's auburn hair glowed in the light, her silver eyes warm.
"I. I do," Ella whispered low.
But with words spoken, gnawing doubts seemed to swell.
With one step forward, Damon took the center stage, and murmurs died. Magnetic, he drew every gaze in the room. Her stomach somersaulting, Ella listened while Damon's low-pitched voice rumbled on even.
"Tonight, under the full moon, we come together to make sure of a stronger future for the Blackwood Pack."
Applause burst from the pack, the silence of the hall breaking into cacophony. It wasn't until Damon finally turned toward her that Ella's breath caught.
"Ella Winters," he said, his amber eyes anchoring onto hers. For one fleeting second, her heart rose.
But then he continued.
"You are not fit to be my Luna."
Those words were like a stinging slap across the face.
The audience was riveted with gasps; dumbfounded silence took over, replacing the joyful mood. Ella was in a state of shock because she could not believe such a thing.
"What—what?" she muttered, shuddering.
Damon's face remained expressionless. His voice was cold as the night breeze. "A Luna should be strong, resilient, and able to lead. You carry none of these qualities within you."
A murmur went through the pack, rippling around her like birds on the wing; it was a pity and a shock and a whispered agreement. Ella's legs buckled.
"Damon," she choked, taking one step forward. "I am your mate. The moon chose us—"
"And the moon made a mistake," Damon cut in, his voice slicing like a blade.
She flinched as though she had been struck. Her silver eyes welled with tears, but she refused to spill them.
At the edge of her vision, she saw Lila—a woman Damon had chosen—stride up onto the dais. Tall, lean, and achingly beautiful, she was all things Ella was not. Her tresses of gold lent grace to a face chiseled from marble. A sadistic light danced in her blue eyes when she smiled.
Damon's hand clamped down on Lila's shoulder, the fingers digging possessively into the skin. "Lila will stand at my side like a Luna. She is powerful and capable for this position."
Outright and absolute betrayal.
Ella's legs folded, and Marcy hurried to grab her. The hall blurred around her, the voices of the pack blending together in a cacophony of indignant and startled murmurs.
"Alpha," one of the Elders ventured bravely, "the bond between mates is sacred. Are you certain this is what you want to do?" Damon's face hardened into a mirthless smile. "I am. Ella Winters is no longer part of this pack. By my decree, she is a rogue." The pronouncement hit Ella like a clap of thunder.
"No," she whispered, her head shaking with denial. "Please, don't do this. I have no place else to go."
Still, Damon had already turned his back on her.
The Elders moved closer, their expressions impassive while their determination was immovable. "Ella Winters, you are hereby shunned by the Blackwood Pack. You must be off our land by first light."
She gasped for breath in shallow, frantic bursts. Everything around her went hazy, with only one sound vibrating in her eardrums—the deafening battering of her own heart.
"Ella," Marcy whispered huskily with a voice hoarse from so much emotion. "Say anything. Fight this!"
Words couldn't find their way past her paralyzed vocal cords, choked dead by the crushing weight of Damon's rejection.
Alone in the Forest
The woods were quiet but for the crunch of Ella's feet across the frostbitten earth, the cool air nipping at her skin through the thin material of her dress. Above, the moon was pale and bright, casting its silvery light upon the winding track before her.
She let hot tears course down her face onto her cheeks against the night's freezing clutch. She fell over a gnarled root, falling onto her knees with a heart-rending sob.
"Why?" she quivered, her whisper barely audible. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Rejection hissed in her brain, its every word lacerating a little deeper than the previous one. She had known she was different—quieter, less aggressive than the rest of the wolves. Still, she had foolishly hoped her rapport with Damon would bridge the deficits in her character.
Now, that rapport lay in tatters.
Until the rustling of leaves awoke her from her despair. Ella went still. Her heart racing hard, she peered into the darkness, her wolf senses thrumming high as she strained to make out who and what was moving there.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice quivering.
Silence.
Then, out into the moonlight stepped a figure.
He was tall and imposing, with crimson eyes glowing like embers against the darkness. A face that was handsomely rugged was defaced with scars, a testament to battles won and lost—a combination of menace and magnetism.
He cocked his head to one side, studying her with an intensity that ran a shiver down her spine.
"A little wolf, all alone," he said, his voice smooth and deep. "How sad."
She sprang to her feet, fisting her hands even as her veins ran cold from fear. "Who are you?"
The man's lips twisted into a small smile. "Kael," he said succinctly. "And you, little wolf, are far more interesting than I predicted."
Ella swallowed hard, her instincts screaming at her to run. Yet something within Kael's gaze kept her in one place.
"Why are you here?" she insisted, the bravado in her voice stretched, since at least some of it was a lie.
Kael stepped closer on fluid legs. "The best question," he returned—the words low, almost a whisper—"is why you're still holding onto a pack that doesn't deserve you."
Ella felt her breath catch in her throat.
"Think about it, little wolf," Kael added, "Damon might have cast you out, but that will not make you useless. The moon chose you for something."
These words had kindled within her a smoldering fire—a spark of defiance, wordless yet unrelenting.
Kael held out his hand. "Come with me," he insisted. "I can teach you to find that strength they never knew you had."
The words caught in her throat, her mind racing with fear, anger, and despair.
"Why should I trust you?"
Kael's smile grew wider, and his sharp teeth shone in the light. "Because, little wolf, you don't have a choice."
Just like this, Ela's journey began.