Chapter 1: The Shattered Bond

The scent of old books and polished wood in the study did little to calm the storm raging inside me, Luna Starling. For three years, I had stood by Alpha Wesley's side, his Moon-Blessed Mate. The celestial bond that had sparked to life between us the moment our eyes met was supposed to be unbreakable, sacred. He, the formidable Alpha of the Silvermane Pack, had pursued me with a fervor that shook the foundations of my lonely existence. Ninety-nine howls under the full moon, gifts of enchanted stones and rare herbs laid at my doorstep, grand gatherings hosted to welcome the strange, isolated girl with storm in her eyes into his powerful world. He had been my anchor, teaching me the ways of the pack, soothing the wild, untamed magic I inherited from my mother—the magic that marked me as different, as other. He cherished my spirit, even when it crackled with tempestuous energy. But that was before Tanya arrived. The ash and sorrow of the wildfire that consumed the neighboring Ashwood Pack, her pack, still clung to the air. As the sole survivor, broken and fragile, she was brought into our territory by the Elder Council, a testament to the old alliances. And from that day, the invisible tether connecting my soul to Wesley's began to fray. The first time was during the Howling Ceremony under the Blood Moon, a night that should have been ours. Tanya had collapsed into hysterical sobs, wailing that the moon reminded her of her lost pack, and threatened to throw herself from the Cliff of Ancestors. Wesley, his eyes heavy with a duty I didn't yet understand, had turned to me. "Starling, our Luna must be strong. Can we dedicate this night to her healing?" I had yielded. The second time, it was over a gift from my old mentor—a rare Moonblossom herb that could calm my chaotic magic. Tanya took one look and fled into the dark woods, screaming that its scent was her mother's last memory. Wesley, without a second glance my way, gave her the entire pouch. "She needs it more, my love. Your control has improved." His words, once balm, now felt like barbs. …And the ninety-ninth time was tonight. Our Matehood Anniversary. We were to run beneath the shimmering Aurora, a private hunt to reaffirm our bond. But as we stood at the territory's edge, a frantic mindlink from a scout echoed in our heads: Tanya was found on the sacred Howling Grounds, a silver dagger in her hand, whispering about joining her family. The hunt was canceled. Wesley's focus snapped to her, a predator sensing wounded prey. I finally confronted him, the bond in my chest a raw, aching wound. "Do you feel something for her, Wesley? Is she your true mate?" His answer was a low growl, laced with impatience. "Starling, be reasonable. Her mind is shattered, her pack is ashes. As your Alpha, I command you to understand. As your mate, I ask you to be compassionate." Compassion? How much more could I give? Tanya's "shattered mind" seemed to have no end in sight. Standing by the window of our den, I watched a sleek black SUV pull up. The door opened, and Tanya stepped out, her cheeks flushed, a triumphant glint in her eyes as she fiddled with a bracelet on her wrist. A Lunite bracelet, I realized, a rare crystal that amplified a wolf's connection to the moon—a mate's gift. They had attended the Inter-Pack Gathering together. My mate, my Alpha, hadn't even told me. The dam of suppressed wronged broke. Perhaps it was time to surrender. I descended the stairs as Tanya entered the main hall. Our eyes met. She deliberately raised her wrist, the Lunite crystals catching the light. "Lovely, isn't it?" she purred. "I merely mentioned how it soothed my fractured spirit, and dear Wesley insisted. Your Alpha is so… attentive." Acid bitterness flooded my mouth. Not only was my mate gifting her such intimate treasures, but she was flaunting it before me, the rightful Luna. "It's beautiful," I said, my voice deceptively calm. "The pale glow does wonders to hide the wear of time. It suits you, Tanya. At nearly forty cycles, one needs all the help one can get." Her face crumpled. She let out a choked sob just as Wesley strode in. She shoved past him, fleeing into the night. His gaze, sharp and disapproving, landed on me like a physical weight. Again… Always, because of the old alliance, because Tanya was older, because she had lost everything, I was the one deemed childish, the unruly mate who couldn't control her temper. Without a word, he turned and went after her. Watching his retreating back, the fight drained out of me. A full year of this. I was so, so tired. I retreated to the study and began drafting my formal withdrawal from the Pack Council. The position Wesley had created for me, to guide my integration, was no longer necessary. Ding! My phone lit up. A message from Wesley. > Tanya is kneeling before the Ashwood memorial stones, refusing to move. She says your words cut deeper than silver. You will come here and apologize. Now. I felt a profound weariness settle in my bones. Two minutes later, a video call request flashed on the screen. I answered, my heart a cold stone. Tanya's wailing voice filled the speaker first: "Mother! Father! Even a half-bred she-wolf dares to scorn your daughter now…!" The camera showed her hurling herself toward the granite stone before guards restrained her. The screen shifted, revealing Wesley's face, his eyes glinting with a cold fury that stole my breath. "Satisfied?" "Starling, I told you her spirit is fractured! Why must you provoke her? Must I remind the entire pack how your own mother's wild blood makes you unfit to be a proper Luna? Must her failure as a witch be your legacy?" The threat in his words was unmistakable. The man who had vowed his strength would forever be my shield was now using it as a blade against me. "I will not apologize!" I spat, my voice trembling with a mix of fury and devastation. I had done nothing wrong! I ended the call. But five minutes later, the sound of heavy footsteps and snarled curses erupted from downstairs. I opened the study door to investigate and was immediately surrounded by a dozen hulking figures. "Starling!" A hand, rough and calloused, clamped around my wrist like a vise. Before I could process it, a powerful shove sent me flying backward. "Ahhh…!" I tumbled down the stone stairs, my head cracking against the edge with a sickening thud. Warm blood, thick and coppery, trickled down my temple, blurring my vision. Pain, sharp and nauseating, radiated through my entire body. Through the haze, I recognized them—elders and warriors from the former Ashwood Pack. They descended the stairs, forming a menacing circle around my broken form. "Consider this a warning, half-breed," one of them snarled, his boot connecting with my ribs. "Next time you let your jealousy target our Tanya, we won't stop at a lesson. We'll make sure you're cast out of every pack on this continent!" Agony exploded in my hand as another brute ground his heel into my fingers. I cried out, the world swimming in and out of focus. As they filed out, a chilling, lucid thought pierced through the pain: How did they get in? The Silvermane territory wards were impenetrable without Alpha authorization. Gritting my teeth against the blinding pain, I dragged myself back to the study, my body screaming in protest. I fumbled for my phone, a desperate instinct to tell Wesley, to seek protection from my own mate. But my blood ran cold as I saw a final, unread message from him, sent after I'd hung up. > Wesley: Starling, pride has no place in a pack. Stray wolves who forget their place learn harsh lessons. The world tilted. My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped the device. They… he let them in? Why? Because I'd spoken back to Tanya? He had allowed these rogues to enter our home, to lay hands on his Luna, to break her body as a lesson? The man who had sworn he loved my untamed spirit was now systematically crushing it for another. Tanya had lost her pack, her family. She was an orphan, deserving of protection. But what about me? My family was an ocean away, a mother who despised my very existence. I had left everything—my mentor's guidance, my studies into my own chaotic magic—for him, for this pack. Was I not an orphan, too? Alone in a territory that now felt like a gilded cage? A crushing weight settled on my chest. I gasped for air, tears finally breaking free, mingling with the blood on my face. The world dimmed at the edges. Thud. My body gave out. As darkness swallowed me, the last coherent image in my mind was of my mentor's offered hand, of the ancient texts waiting in his library, of a path of magic I had abandoned for a bond that had turned to chains. I had chosen wrong. I wanted to go home. I needed to return to my mentor's sanctuary, to reclaim the power I had forsaken.