Torn between two mates

Aria’s POV

The moon hangs low above the Silverclaw Pack’s ceremonial grounds, wide and unblinking, casting its pale light across the stone circle where the pack gathers in reverent silence, their faces turned toward me, their eyes filled with everything they never say aloud, curiosity, judgment, expectation, and something colder that I have felt my entire life but never dared to name. I stand beneath the arch of ancient oak and flame, my fingers curled tightly around the edge of my ceremonial robe, my heart beating with a rhythm that feels too loud in my chest, and my wolf restless beneath my skin, sensing that something sacred is about to happen. Tonight, I am becoming the Luna of the Silverclaw Pack.

I have imagined this night for years, imagining it in my mind during sleepless hours and quiet walks through the forest, picturing the way Ethan will look at me when the bond is announced, the way his hand will reach for mine, the way the pack will finally realise I am worth something. They will, at last, realize that I am not only an orphan girl with Lycan blood in my veins, something they do not like about me, because my mother was a Lycan and my father was the Beta of this pack. They will see me as their future Luna. I will belong here at last.

Ethan and I met when I was thirteen and he was fifteen. I still remember the way he looked at me that first day, curious, guarded, but not unkind like the other children, and how he offered me a hand when I stumble during training, how he stood beside me when the others turned away, how he spoke to me like I matter, like I was more than the girl whose mother was a Lycan and whose father died next to her mother while they were protecting the pack against rogues. He knew the pack did not understand me, and they feared me because they did not know what I was.

Over the years, our bond grew quietly, steadily, like roots beneath the surface, and though he never said the words aloud, I felt them in the way he lingered near me during patrols, in the way his eyes found mine across crowded rooms, in the way his voice softened when he spoke my name. I told myself that he saw me, not as the girl with the broken bloodline, the history, and the weight of my parents’ deaths. He saw me as Aria, the girl who trained harder than anyone, who never asked for more than what she earned, and who carried her grief like armour and her hope like a flame. As I turned eighteen, we realised we were mates. Our wolves spoke to us as if we belonged with each other. It was the happiest day of my life until today.

So, I stand here, beneath the moon, wearing the ceremonial robe I stitched myself, my heart open and unguarded, waiting for the moment that is supposed to change everything. Ethan steps forward, his shoulders squared, his jaw tight, his ceremonial sash gleaming with the silver threads of his lineage, and for a moment, his eyes meet mine, and I see something flicker there, something soft and familiar and almost afraid, and I know it is love and our bond.

Celeste Blackthorn steps forward, her gown a cascade of midnight silk, her voice sharp and cold and practiced, and when she speaks, the words slice through the hush like a blade. “This ceremony is a mistake,” she says, her gaze fixed on me with the kind of disdain that doesn’t need to be explained. “She is an orphan. Her blood is unstable. Her mother was a Lycan, her father was a werewolf. That kind of mix does not belong in our lineage. Aria Hale does not belong next to the Alpha of the Silverclaw pack. She does not even belong in our pack!”

I can’t move, speak, or even blink. I am stunned. I knew Ethan’s family never liked me, but my mother and father gave their lives for this pack! How dare they treat me like this! My wolf stirs uneasily beneath my skin, sensing the shift, the betrayal, and although I have prepared myself for resistance, I haven’t prepared for this public dismantling of my worth, this stripping of my dignity, this moment where everything I have believed in is turned to dust.

Garrick Blackthorn, Ethan’s father, steps forward with the finality of a man who has already made his decision, his voice low and strong. “The council has approved a new match,” he says, his eyes never meeting mine. “Ethan will be bonded to Lilith Moonlight of the Green Forest Pack. Her lineage is pure. Her alliance is strategic.”

Lilith stands at the edge of the circle, her silver gown catching the torchlight, her posture graceful, her expression unreadable, untouched by the storm she has walked into, and although I don’t hate her, don’t envy her, don’t blame her, I see her for what she is, a symbol of everything I am not, everything I will never be, everything the pack has decided I cannot become.

Ethan looks at me, and when he speaks, his voice is steady, rehearsed, and hollow. “I reject the bond,” he says, and the silence that follows is absolute, as if the forest itself has paused to listen.

“I, Ethan Blackthorn, heir to the Silverclaw Pack, reject Aria Hale as my mate and Luna.” There are no gasps, no protests. Only the sound of the wind moving through the trees. There is no one to stand up for me. No one cares that I am breaking inside. I always felt love would be enough to keep Ethan and me together.

I look at him, not with anger, not with pleading, but with a kind of clarity that only comes when everything you believed in has been stripped away, and when I speak, my voice is low and even. “You didn’t have to humiliate me,” I say. “You could’ve just told me.”

He doesn’t answer. Celeste doesn’t look away. Garrick remains silent. Lilith stands untouched, her hands folded neatly in front of her, her eyes calm.  I turn, my steps slow but sure, my back straight, my chin lifted, and as I walk out of the circle and into the woods beyond, the moon follows me, casting its light on the path ahead, as if it knows that something ancient has begun to stir, something that has been waiting in silence for the moment I would be broken enough to awaken.

I don’t cry. I don’t run. I walk until the torches fade behind me, until the voices become whispers, until the scent of the pack is nothing but a memory clinging to the edges of my skin, and though my wolf is quiet, wounded, curled deep inside me, I let the stillness wrap around me like a second skin, let the cold air bite at my cheeks and let the ache settle into my bones. I have no plan. No destination. Only the certainty that I cannot stay where I am unwanted, where my blood is a stain, and where love has been a lie.

I walk until my feet blister, until my robe tears, until the moon begins to dip below the horizon, and still I do not stop, and somewhere in the distance, a rogue howls, but I don’t flinch. I keep walking. I did not give them the satisfaction of humiliating me more. I left with my dignity intact. Tears are flowing from my eyes down my cheeks, but I wipe them away. I am used to hurting all the time. I am used to being alone since my parents died. I thought Ethan was different, but I was mistaken. He does not love me. I am still alone in this world. Tonight, he will take another Luna, not me. Ethan will take Lilith as his Luna.