The cold wind carried the whispers of wolves as Selene Thorne stood at the edge of the forest, her heart a battlefield of fear and defiance. The bonfire blazed in the distance, its light illuminating the path she dreaded to take. Every step toward that gathering felt heavier than the last, the weight of twenty years of shame pressing down on her. She had been summoned, as was tradition for all pack members, but tonight felt like walking into a den of predators ready to pounce on weakness.
Her fingers clenched the edge of her worn cloak, her mind screaming to turn back. But then she remembered her father's voice, echoing through the years: "Never let them see your fear, Selene. The moment they see it, they'll own you."
Breathing deeply, she stepped into the clearing.
★★★
The pack's chatter died as one by one, heads turned toward her. Some faces held pity, most held contempt, and others didn't even try to hide their amusement. The weight of their stares burned hotter than the flames roaring in the bonfire.
Selene resisted the urge to pull her hood tighter around her face. Instead, she forced herself to keep walking, each step a battle against the instinct to flee. Her feet brought her closer to the center, where Damon Blackwood, her fated mate, stood tall and commanding. His dark eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, she thought she saw something other than disdain in them.
But then he spoke. "You shouldn't be here."
The words sliced through her like a blade.
"I was summoned," she replied, keeping her voice steady, though her hands trembled under her cloak.
Damon stepped forward, his presence dominating the space between them. "And now I'm telling you to leave. You know what your presence does to this pack. To me."
His rejection was as cold and familiar as the winter air, but it didn't make it hurt any less. Selene swallowed hard, refusing to let the tears sting her eyes. "You don't get to decide where I belong, Damon. I'm a part of this pack, whether you like it or not."
His lips curled into a sneer. "You're nothing but a stain on this pack's name. Leave now, before you make things worse for yourself."
★★★
Before Selene could respond, another voice rang out, smooth and commanding.
"Let her stay."
The crowd parted, revealing Cyrus Vane, her cousin. He strode toward them with the confidence of someone who knew the world bent to his will. His finely tailored clothes and charming smile only deepened the disgust Selene felt every time she saw him.
"She's family, after all," Cyrus said, his tone light but his eyes gleaming with malice. "It would be cruel to send her away on a night like this."
Selene's fists clenched at her sides. Cyrus's words weren't an act of kindness. They were bait, designed to humiliate her further.
Damon hesitated, his jaw tightening as he glanced between Selene and Cyrus. Then he stepped back, leaving Selene exposed to the crowd's judgment.
"Fine," Damon muttered. "Let her stay. But don't say I didn't warn you."
★★★
The rest of the night passed in a haze of whispers and sidelong glances. Selene stayed near the edges of the clearing, avoiding the circle of power where Damon and Cyrus stood alongside the Alpha. She felt like a ghost at the feast, seen but not truly there.
As the moon rose higher, a sharp, mocking laugh pulled her from her thoughts. She turned to see Morgana Riven, the seer, standing in the center of a group. The older woman's voice was loud enough to carry across the clearing.
"The prophecy doesn't lie," Morgana declared. "A lineage as tainted as hers could only lead to ruin. No wonder the fates have abandoned her."
Selene's chest tightened. Every eye was on her again, waiting for her to break.
Instead, she stepped forward, her voice ringing clear. "You speak of fates, Morgana, but tell me this—why does the future terrify you so much that you twist the truth to suit your own ends?"
A stunned silence fell over the clearing. Morgana's smile faltered, but before she could respond, Cyrus let out a low laugh.
"Bold words, cousin," Cyrus said, his voice dripping with amusement. "But be careful. Boldness without strength can lead to disaster."
★★★
Selene didn't sleep that night. Alone in her small cabin on the outskirts of the pack's territory, she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with questions and fears. What was Morgana hiding? Why did Damon's gaze linger on her with guilt she couldn't understand? And most pressing of all—why did Cyrus seem so intent on keeping her in the pack's shadow?
Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. The sound was soft but urgent. Selene's heart raced as she grabbed the knife she kept by her bedside. Slowly, she opened the door.
Standing there, bathed in moonlight, was Damon. His face was unreadable, but his voice was filled with something she hadn't heard before.
"Selene, you're in danger."
And then, before she could respond, the howl of a wolf echoed through the trees—a warning.
★★★
The howl pierced the night, low and mournful, sending a chill down Selene's spine. Damon's jaw tightened, his hand reflexively reaching for the blade at his hip.
"Who's out there?" Selene whispered, her voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.
Damon glanced over his shoulder, his body tense. "Not someone friendly."
Selene stepped back, gripping the knife in her trembling hand. Her cabin was small, its wooden walls thin and vulnerable. If danger was coming, there was no hiding from it here.
"Why are you here, Damon?" she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion. "Why now?"
Damon turned back to her, his dark eyes filled with something she couldn't quite place—guilt, urgency, maybe even fear. "I made a mistake," he admitted. "But there's no time to explain. They're coming for you, Selene. Cyrus has plans… and they don't end well for you."
Her stomach twisted at his words. She had always suspected Cyrus was plotting something, but hearing it confirmed felt like stepping into quicksand.
"Why should I trust you?" she demanded, her knife raised slightly. "You rejected me. You called me a stain on this pack."
"I was wrong," Damon said, stepping closer. "I thought I was protecting the pack, but all I did was play into Cyrus's hands. If you don't leave now, he'll destroy you."
Before Selene could respond, the howl came again—closer this time, sharper and more threatening. Damon's head snapped toward the window. "We need to move. Now."
★★★
Selene's legs felt like lead as she followed Damon into the woods. The moonlight barely filtered through the dense trees, casting eerie shadows that seemed to shift with every step. Her breathing was ragged, the cold air burning her lungs.
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice low but urgent.
"There's a cave near the river," Damon said, his gaze scanning the darkness ahead. "It's safe for now. Once we're there, I'll explain everything."
Selene wasn't sure what terrified her more—the thought of being caught by whoever was hunting them or the idea of trusting Damon again.
Suddenly, a branch snapped to their left. Selene froze, her heart pounding in her ears. Damon grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind a large tree, his hand over her mouth to keep her silent.
Through the shadows, Selene saw them—three figures moving through the forest, their eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight. Wolves in human form, their movements were predatory and deliberate.
"They're trackers," Damon whispered against her ear. "Sent by Cyrus. They'll find your scent soon."
Selene's mind raced. She wasn't ready for this. She had no training, no allies—just a knife and the determination not to go down without a fight.
"What do we do?" she whispered back.
Damon's grip on her wrist tightened. "We run."
★★★
The chase was relentless. Selene's legs burned as she pushed herself harder, her breath hitching with every step. Damon stayed just ahead of her, his movements fluid and purposeful. Behind them, the howls grew louder, closer.
Her foot caught on a root, and she stumbled, crashing to the ground. Pain shot through her ankle, but there was no time to dwell on it. Damon was at her side in an instant, pulling her to her feet.
"Keep moving!" he urged, his voice strained.
Selene forced herself forward, biting back the pain. She could feel the wolves closing in, their presence like a shadow that refused to let her go.
The sound of rushing water reached her ears, and she saw it—the river, glinting silver under the moonlight. Damon led her toward a narrow path along the bank, where the entrance to a cave was barely visible.
"In here," he said, pulling her inside.
The cave was cold and damp, its walls covered in moss. Damon guided her to the farthest corner, where they crouched together, their breaths shallow.
"They'll find us," Selene said, her voice shaking. "They're too close."
"Not if I stop them," Damon replied.
Selene grabbed his arm, her eyes wide with fear. "You'll get yourself killed."
"I can't let them take you," he said, his voice softer now. "Not again."
The emotion in his words sent a jolt through Selene, but before she could respond, Damon was gone, slipping out of the cave and into the darkness.
★★★
Selene sat alone in the cave, the silence pressing down on her like a weight. Her ankle throbbed, and her mind raced with questions. What was Damon planning? Why was Cyrus so desperate to destroy her?
A faint sound reached her ears—footsteps, growing louder. Selene gripped her knife, her hands trembling as she prepared to face whatever was coming.
The figure that emerged from the shadows wasn't Damon. It was one of the trackers, his eyes glowing with malice.
"Well, well," he said, his voice a low growl. "The little outcast, all alone."
Selene's pulse thundered in her ears. She raised the knife, her grip tightening. "Stay back," she warned, though her voice betrayed her fear.
The tracker chuckled, stepping closer. "You're not worth much trouble, you know. But Cyrus wants you alive. For now."
Selene's mind screamed at her to fight, but her body felt frozen, the weight of the moment pinning her in place. As the tracker lunged, a blur of motion slammed into him, sending him crashing to the ground.
Damon stood over the fallen tracker, his chest heaving, his blade dripping with blood. "I told you to stay hidden," he said, his voice rough with frustration.
"I don't take orders from you," Selene shot back, her voice trembling but defiant.
The moment hung between them, charged with unspoken tension. But before either could say more, another howl rang out—this time from above the cave.
"They know we're here," Damon said, his expression grim. "We have to move. And this time, Selene, you listen to me."