The Silvermoon Gala was supposed to be the most important night of my life.
A night of destiny, when the Moon Mother would finally grant me her mercy and reveal my mate, binding our souls together forever.
But as I stood at the grand entrance to the Silvercrest Pack's glittering ballroom, the weight of a thousand stares pressing down on me, I already knew.
This night would end in disaster. The certainty of it was a cold dread coiled in my gut.
"You little filth," my father warned through gritted teeth, his voice a low hiss only our family could hear. "Don't you dare take off that veil. Not even if someone holds a knife to your throat. Do you understand?" My attention snapped back to him.
For a moment, I had completely forgotten I wasn't alone.
"I don't even know why you chose to wear black, of all colors," he grunted, his glare shifting to my mother beside him. "Didn't anyone see her before we left the house?"
"Darling, she can wear whatever she likes," my mother said, her gaze flicking to me for a scant second. "It's not as if she'll be sitting with us. No one needs to know she's ours."
My father shot me one last look of pure disgust before striding into the ballroom. My mother followed without a second glance, utterly indifferent to my existence.
Next were my two older sisters, Brianna and Chloe. They offered me a synchronized, disapproving sneer and then swept past, fluttering the elaborate feather fans they had fought tooth and nail to acquire for this event.
"Control yourself for a minute, you slut!" The harsh whisper barked directly in my ear, making me flinch so hard the hairs on my neck stood on end. My older brother, Kevin. I hadn't even heard him approach; I didn’t think he could have parked the car that fast.
"I can smell your disgusting pheromones from miles away," he sneered, then stepped back as if my proximity might infect him.
I dropped my head instantly, avoiding his eyes as the frantic pulse in my ears drowned out everything else. Kevin’s punishments were cruel, and he was more than capable of slapping me right here, in front of a thousand pairs of eyes all waiting for my humiliation.
Fortunately, my terror only subsided when Kevin evidently decided I wasn't worth his precious time on such an important night. He stalked off, leaving me behind. Alone.
The ballroom air was thick with a heady mix of floral perfumes, champagne, and the subtle, searching pheromones of unmated werewolves scanning the crowd for the fated pull.
But I felt nothing. Nothing except the frantic spike of my own scent, a suffocating cloud of anxiety.
No pull. No surge of warmth. No instinct whispered that my other half was near.
Because I had no wolf.
Because I was cursed.
Because the Shadowbane Curse had stolen my bond before I ever had a chance to feel it. And yet, even without the mate bond, I already knew who my mate was.
Damien Thorne. Future Beta of our Silvercrest Pack.
I’d overheard the whispers weeks ago in the academy halls. Classmates talking behind my back, pitying the tragedy of my situation, certain I was going to be rejected.
Regardless, I took a sharp breath, praying—begging—for a chance to start over as I cautiously stepped into the room, acutely aware of the eyes that followed my every move.
For sixteen years, I was my family's golden girl, the pride of the Silvercrest Pack. Then the Shadowbane Curse struck, branding me with the crescent-shaped mark on my shoulder and ripping my wolf away from me.
From that moment on, I had become nothing.
Tonight was my last hope. If the Moon Mother had any mercy left for a creature like me, my mate would accept me, curse and all.
But fate has never been kind to me. I knew that the instant I saw Damien.
He stood near the center of the ballroom in a tailored black and silver suit, his arm draped possessively around another woman's waist. She was stunning—blonde, curvaceous, the kind of woman who commanded attention without ever having to ask for it.
A painful knot formed in my chest. It wasn't the pull of a mate bond. It was something else, a faint, buried instinct—a part of me that wanted to react but couldn't.
It was a weak, distant echo of a connection that should have been there, but wasn't.
And for the first time, I allowed myself to wonder: if I hadn't been cursed, would I have felt what everyone else did?
Would I have felt warmth instead of this cold emptiness?
Would I have been loved instead of abandoned?
I suppose I would never know. Because in that moment, Damien turned his head, and his blue eyes locked with mine through the gauzy fabric of my veil.
The second he saw me, his entire body went rigid. His nostrils flared as my scent hit him.
His wolf had recognized me, and in that split second—I saw the flicker of devastation in his eyes before he was marching straight towards me, the woman still at his side.
A hush fell over the ballroom, instantly replaced by a wave of frantic whispers.
"She's his mate?"
"The cursed one? The wolfless freak?"
"No way a future Beta would accept someone like her..."
Just then, Damien stopped directly in front of me. He released the other woman's waist and looked me straight in the eye, his fierce gaze burning a hole through my veil. "God forbid," he snapped, his voice ringing through the silent hall, "that I be forced to marry, mate, or mark a woman like you!"
The entire ballroom stilled, every pair of eyes locked onto us. He had made sure everyone heard.
My chest seized, and humiliation burned in my throat. I lifted my chin, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Damien..."
Before I could say another word, he spoke the words that shattered me.
"I, future Beta Damien Thorne of the Silvercrest Pack, reject you, Elara Vance, as my mate."
The gasps rippled through the crowd.
I felt every stare in the room slice into me. Something deep inside twisted, a pang of agony so sharp it stole my breath. It wasn't a bond breaking—I had no true bond to break. It was Damien's words, the public declaration, that made it real.
And he wasn't finished yet.