Mist curled over the stone circle at Silverfen like pale fingers. It wrapped the wolves in a silver haze. Selene pulled her cloak tighter. The cold sank into her bones. Tall pines stood around the summit. Their needles whispered in the wind. Above them the Moon hung large and bright, so near she thought she could touch it.

She drew a slow breath, letting the smell of sage and pine steady her. She had pictured this night a hundred times, the Alpha’s hand reaching for hers, the pack howling in welcome. It had been the one dream that kept her working through every cold dawn in the healer’s hut.

“Is… everyone ready?” she murmured. Her voice trembled.

A low growl answered from the dark. Her wolf shifted inside her, ears alert. Be patient, it told her.

Selene looked around the circle. Wolves padded between the stones, eyes glinting gold and amber. Some stood in human form, their robes and charms moving in the breeze. The air smelled of pine sap, wet moss, and burning sage. Tonight the Alpha would choose his mate. To Selene, this night meant everything — every prayer she had ever offered under the Moon had led here.

Rowan stood on the dais, tall and dark against the carved runes. His jaw was tight. His hands clenched. He did not look at her. He looked at the Moon.

Her heart raced. She remembered his hand in the healer’s hut, the way his thumb brushed her pulse. “Soon, Selene,” he had said. “Under the next full Moon.” She had believed him.

“I… I’m here,” she whispered to the stones, though the whole pack could hear.

Rowan’s voice cut the air. “Selene of Silverfen…”

Her stomach flipped. His tone had a weight she could not name. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

“I—I’m ready,” she forced out at last.

A wolf behind her growled. The wind dropped as if the forest was listening.

Then Rowan spoke. His words were sharp. “I reject you, Selene of Silverfen.”

The words hit like claws. Gasps broke into murmurs. A pup whimpered. Someone spat on the stones. Selene felt the weight of every stare like claws on her skin. The Moon above gave no sign, only watched, white and cold.

Her chest tightened. “No… you can’t—”

“I reject you,” Rowan said again, louder. “As my mate. As my bond. Leave me.”

It felt as if something between them snapped. Pain burned across her chest. Her wolf wanted to howl, to strike, but she swallowed the sound.

“You… don’t mean it,” she whispered. Her voice shook.

Rowan’s amber eyes looked at her once. In them she saw anger and grief. For a second, a plea. Then he turned away.

Selene stumbled down the steps. The pack’s whispers chased her like knives. Pity. Curiosity. Scorn. She would not fall apart in front of them. She would not cry.

She ran. Branches whipped her face. Roots tore at her cloak. The forest closed around her until the sound of the pack was only the wind behind her. She saw only his eyes — the eyes that had once softened when she bound his wounds after a hunt, the eyes that now looked through her like she was nothing. Each step drove the memory deeper.

She reached the glade where the Moon lay like a white pool on the moss. She fell to her knees and pressed a hand to her belly, though she did not know why. Her pulse hammered. Something moved inside her — a warm flutter, a quick, strange beat. Her wolf growled, uneasy.

“Why?” she whispered into the night. “Why, Rowan?”

Far away, the stones of Silverfen glowed under the Moon. For a moment she felt a pull, like Rowan’s power reaching for her and being stopped. Something was wrong, deeper than she could name.

The moss was cold and wet, smelling of iron and earth. Her breath made white clouds in the dark. She pressed her palm to the ground, feeling it thrum faintly, as if the forest itself had a heartbeat.

A low sound came on the wind. It was a growl that sounded almost like a human voice. Amber eyes glinted at the edge of the trees. Selene turned, but only shadows met her.

Behind her, a sharp snap rang out at the stones. From far off, Rowan’s roar broke through the night and cut off as if something struck it down. Chains of unseen magic tightened around him. The Moon seemed to dim.

Her wolf went wild, urging her to flee. Branches tore her skin. She ran until her legs gave out and she fell on damp moss.

Her vision swam. She gasped for breath. She felt Rowan’s power pull at her, distant and bound. Trees twisted into dark shapes. Night sounds circled her like hungry wolves.

Run, the wolf inside her cried.

A strange warmth rolled in her belly. She tried to stand, but her limbs shook. For a second she saw amber eyes at the edge of her sight, then they were gone.

Selene curled against the roots, shivering. Her wolf paced beneath her skin, ears taut for danger. Far off, the stones of Silverfen glowed and then faded.

She let the forest carry her along paths her wolf knew. The night grew softer. After a while she found the small cabin at the glade’s edge. The door was cold under her fingers as she pushed it open. She was soaked and barely able to stand.

She collapsed inside, cloak clinging to her. Her hand pressed to her chest. Her heart hammered. Her wolf circled, restless, listening to every shadow. Thunder rolled somewhere in the storm.

A gust of wind slammed the cabin door. The lantern flickered. Somewhere beyond the mist, a low growl answered her pounding heart. It was not over. The forest had carried her away from Silverfen, but it had not freed her.

Just beyond her sight, amber eyes waited in the mist — patient, unblinking. The shadows of Silverfen would not let her go.