Kaia's POV
Lyanna Thornwood.
Garrett's voice rings across the ceremony hall, and my world shatters.
I stand frozen in my borrowed silver dress as five hundred wolves turn to watch my beautiful stepsister glide toward the platform. Toward my boyfriend. Toward the male who promised me just last week that tonight would be special.
This wasn't what he meant.
No, I whisper, but the sound drowns in the crowd's shocked gasps.
Garrett takes Lyanna's hand—the hand that should be mine—and pulls her close. His eyes find me across the hall for just a heartbeat. They're cold. Empty. Like the last three years meant absolutely nothing.
I, Garrett Ashford, he announces loudly, making sure every single wolf can hear, reject any previous bond with Kaia Thornwood.
The words hit like a physical blow. My knees nearly buckle.
He keeps going. Of course he keeps going.
She's too weak to be my mate. Too weak to give me strong pups. Too weak to stand beside a Beta. His voice carries to every corner, each word a knife twisting deeper. I need a real Luna, not a broken charity case.
Someone laughs. Multiple someones.
My face burns with humiliation as whispers ripple through the crowd. I catch fragments—poor thing, I knew she wasn't good enough, what did she expect?
Lyanna loops her arms around Garrett's neck and kisses him. Right there. In front of everyone. Her eyes lock on mine over his shoulder, triumphant and cruel, making sure I see exactly what she's stolen.
My stepmother Moira dabs at fake tears in the front row, but her lips curve in a satisfied smile. They planned this. Both of them. They planned to destroy me in front of the entire pack.
Kaia— My best friend Sienna pushes through the crowd toward me, her face twisted with fury and pity.
I can't. I can't stand here while five hundred wolves watch me break. Can't listen to their whispers. Can't watch Garrett hold my stepsister like she's precious while I'm publicly branded as worthless.
I run.
Bodies blur past me as I shove toward the exit. Someone calls my name but I don't stop. The moment I hit the tree line, I shift—bones cracking, fur sprouting, my small brown wolf taking over because she doesn't cry, doesn't feel, doesn't hurt.
We run until my lungs burn and my paws bleed. Until the sounds of the ceremony fade into nothing but wind and my own ragged breathing.
I collapse beside the river where Garrett and I used to meet in secret. Where he whispered promises. Where I believed every lie.
Three years. Three years of sneaking around because he said the pack wouldn't understand. Three years of being patient, of waiting, of making myself smaller so he'd want me.
All for nothing.
I shift back to human and curl into myself on the cold ground, naked and shaking. The sobs come hard and vicious, ripping out of my chest like my wolf is trying to claw her way free.
I'm worthless. Weak. Exactly what everyone always said I was.
Crying won't change anything, child.
I jerk upright, spinning toward the voice.
An old woman stands at the clearing's edge, her eyes glowing silver in the moonlight. She wears tattered robes that mark her as a rogue—a wolf without a pack. But there's something ancient about her, something that makes my wolf whimper and press close.
Who are you? My voice comes out broken, raw from crying.
Someone who knows what it's like to be thrown away by those who should have treasured you. She steps closer, moonlight illuminating deep lines on her weathered face. My name is Maeve.
I don't need pity.
Good. Because I'm not offering it. Her silver eyes study me with an intensity that feels like she's seeing straight into my soul. I'm offering you a choice.
Something in her tone makes my heart skip. What kind of choice?
The Offering Rite happens tomorrow night. During the blood moon. She settles onto a flat rock like she has all the time in the world. Rejected wolves can present themselves to the Moon Goddess and ask for a second-chance mate.
Hope flutters weakly in my chest. Does it work?
Sometimes. Most volunteers receive nothing, the Goddess finds them unworthy or their mate hasn't been born yet. Maeve's expression turns grave. Some receive a faint mark, a compass pointing toward their destined mate somewhere in the world. They spend years searching, but at least they have hope.
And the rest?
The rest die. She says it simply, like discussing the weather. The Goddess's power is too much for weak wolves. Their bodies burn from the inside out during the ritual.
My stomach clenches. How many die?
One in five, usually. Sometimes more if the blood moon is particularly strong. Her silver eyes bore into mine. But I've been watching you, Kaia Thornwood. You're stronger than you know. Stronger than they've let you believe.
I'm the weakest wolf in my pack, I say automatically. It's what everyone's told me my whole life.
Are you? She tilts her head. Or have you been made weak on purpose?
The question hits like a slap. What are you talking about?
When did you first shift?
Sixteen. I was a late bloomer. The shame of it still burns even now.
And your father? When did he die?
When I was twelve. Hunting accident. The familiar grief tightens my throat.
And after his death, after your stepmother took control—how did you feel?
I think back, memories flooding in. Dad laughing, training me, telling me I'd be strong like my mother. Then the accident. Then Moira marrying into the Alpha position, bringing Lyanna. Everything changed.
I got weaker, I whisper. I couldn't keep up with the other pups anymore. I was tired all the time. My wolf wouldn't emerge properly.
Or someone was poisoning you. Maeve's words are quiet but devastating. Slowly. Carefully. Just enough wolfsbane to keep you weak but not enough to kill you outright.
No. That's But even as I protest, pieces click into place. Moira always insisted on preparing my meals personally. Said she wanted to take care of me after Dad died. The way she watched me eat with those calculating eyes.
Who benefits from you being weak? Maeve presses. Who needed you powerless and broken?
Moira's satisfied smile tonight flashes through my mind. Lyanna's triumphant eyes. The way Garrett looked at me like I was garbage he'd finally thrown out.
They planned this, I breathe. All of it. Keeping me weak so I'd be grateful for Garrett. Then taking him away to break me completely.
I'd bet my life on it.
Rage bubbles up inside me, hot and vicious. For years I believed I was worthless. For years I made myself smaller, quieter, less. And it was all a lie. A deliberate, cruel lie.
The Offering Rite, I say, my voice steady for the first time tonight. How do I volunteer?
Meet me at the Moon Temple tomorrow at midnight. The blood moon will be at its peak. Maeve stands, her silver eyes gleaming with something like approval—or warning. But Kaia? Be very, very careful what you wish for. The Goddess might just give it to you.
I don't care about careful anymore.
Good. She starts to fade into shadow. One more thing—don't eat anything your stepmother gives you between now and then. In fact, don't eat anything at home at all.
The poison. Of course.
I won't, I promise.
Maeve disappears completely, leaving me alone beside the river with a decision made and dangerous hope burning in my chest.
I shift back to my small brown wolf and run toward home—toward the pack house where Moira and Lyanna are probably celebrating their victory.
Let them celebrate.
Tomorrow night, everything changes.
Tomorrow night, I face the Moon Goddess.
And I'll either find my second chance or die trying.
Either way, I'm done being weak.