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CHAPTER 4

last update Last Updated: 2024-11-26 03:17:47

LYSANDER.

While the pack was rejoicing at the Blood Moon's early arrival, I looked upon it as a mean twist of fate, a harbinger of doom. The Moon Goddess must be playing a trick on me.

For days now, the presence of my mate had been faintly there. The moment she stepped foot in Nightshade Pack territory, the bond announced her presence. It was like a tenuous thread wrapped around my soul, pulling tighter by the hour. I fought it relentlessly, chaining myself to duty and reason. I couldn't afford to give in.

I would not be the one to ruin my pack.

My father had once been mated to a human woman. My mother. A woman I barely remembered, her presence now just a faint ghost in my memories. She had died young-too young-due to the frailty of her human body, and my father had been consumed by grief. His pain had turned to rage, and his rage had turned into bloodshed. He had nearly razed the entire pack to the ground in his sorrow, leaving scars that lingered to this day.

And now, irony had dealt me the same cursed hand.

But mine was so much worse: The elders had foretold that my mating would bring not just pain but chaos on an unfathomable scale. If I accepted her, the world itself would shudder beneath the weight of our bond. That prophecy had haunted me for years. It was the reason I had steeled myself for this moment to reject my mate, no matter the cost.

Yet, when the Blood Moon rose high above the pack square, I was there, called by an urge I had no control over. The bond was tugging harder now, stronger, impossible to resist.

The square was a wild, chaotic celebration of joy, laughter, and love. Mates were finding each other under the crimson light, their howls of unity echoing across the pack lands. My wolf clawed at me, restless and demanding, urging me to find her. And then I saw her.

She was dancing beneath the moonlight, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her green eyes sparkling with life. And she was laughing, the sound of her voice carried by the wind, like a melody that wrapped itself around my soul. Her pale blue dress clung to her in all the right ways, and my heart—my traitorous heart—stopped.

My wolf howled, triumphant. There she is. Our mate.

Her laughter died as her gaze turned to me, her smile fading as realization dawned in her eyes. I saw it in the way her body froze, her lips parting slightly. She knew.

The mate pull was unstoppable. We moved toward each other, the crowd parting instinctively, their murmurs hushed as they recognized the moment unfolding before them.

When we finally faced each other, her scent wrapped around me-wildflowers after a storm, warm and tantalizing. It took every ounce of control I had not to pull her into my arms and claim her as mine.

"You're human," I said, my voice rough, filled with tension I couldn't mask.

She nodded, her green eyes wide and searching mine. "Yes."

That confirmation came like a jolt through me, sharp and painful. My fists were bunched at my sides as my wolf howled his protests. It was the fates mocking me-trying to make history repeat itself. My father's agony, my mother's fragility-must I relive it all?

"What's your name?" I asked tightly.

"Ilana Woods," she whispered softly, her voice trembling.

I memorized the name, enjoying the sound of it despite myself. Ilana. It suited her.

But I couldn't afford to linger. The crowd around us was growing restless, their whispers filling the air. I could feel their curiosity, their hope, their fear. The weight of my duty pressed down on me like a crushing burden.

I swallowed hard, the words forming like broken glass in my throat. "Ilana Woods," I began, my voice low and steady, "I, Lysander Nightshade, hereby reject you as my destined mate."

Her eyes widened in shock, her lips parting in a silent gasp. "What?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

The bond snapped violently between us, and the pain hit us both like a tidal wave. Ilana clutched at her chest, her knees buckling slightly as tears spilled down her cheeks. I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to stand tall even as agony tore through me.

"No," she choked out, shaking her head. "No, please—why? Why are you doing this?"

"I have no choice," I said, my voice cold and detached, though it was far from how I felt.

"You don't even know me!" she cried, desperation lacing her words. "How can you just… reject me like this?"

"I'm protecting you," I bit out, my fists trembling. "And protecting everyone else."

And that pain in her eyes cut, and I had to force my gaze away. I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out what I had brought with me. People gasped, staring aghast as I lifted the Scarlet Mark out, the brand of the Rejected.

"No!" one of Ilana's friends exclaimed, pushing forward but restrained by a pack guard.

"Don't," Ilana begged, weeping tears. "Please."

I clenched my jaw, reaching for her arm, soft, warm skin hesitating at the briefest of touches. My wolf growled at me in protest, and I pressed the brand into her flesh with a strained determination.

Ilana screamed, the sound tearing through me like a blade. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground as the sear branded her skin. I released her in a sharp breath, stumbling backward with the weight of my guilt and regret.

Her friend rushed to her side, cradling her as sobs wracked her body. I stared at them for a moment-my heart shattering into pieces-before I turned and walked away.

With every step back to the packhouse, the pain grew worse, tearing at my soul. I had done what I had to do-what was right for my pack, for the world.

But as I stumbled my way through the halls, empty and shaking to pieces,it didn't feel right. It felt like I had lost everything I'd ever wanted.

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