Arin
The sacred courtyard of Aeloria was cloaked in gold and shadow, the marble floor etched with ancient runes that shimmered faintly under the full moon. Silken banners fluttered above in the evening breeze—silver for the royals, black for the mourning of the war just passed, and crimson for bloodlines bound tonight.
I stood still at the heart of it all, barely breathing.
I had been made to wear white, the color of sacrifice, and in the middle of this solemn gathering that is exactly what i felt like
The mating dress clung to me like mist, delicate chiffon sleeves whispering against my skin, yet there was no softness in the moment. Not when hundreds of wolves stood around me, waiting. Watching. Judging. Not when the man i was bound to stood ten paces away and could barely look at me.
King Roan Vanar.
My mate.
My fate.
The words made me sick.
His silver ceremonial armor gleamed, unmarred by dust or blood. His crown sat perfectly on his head, carved from obsidian and moonstone. He looked every bit the king the realm needed—commanding, beautiful, and powerful.
But not mine.
Not truly.
"Bring forth the Moonbond," the High Seer intoned, her voice echoing across the courtyard like a bell tolling for the dead.
A low murmur rose through the assembled packs—Eastern, Southern, Western, Northern. Nobles and warriors, elders and orphans. Eyes flicked between Arin and Roan. a few pitied me. Most just waited for the spectacle to unfold.
No one dared speak of it, but everyone knew: the king loved another.
Nova.
My stepsister.
The golden girl of the Eastern Pack, the one with laughter like spring and a wolf of silver flame. Since her mother's marriage to father, i had always been lost in her shadow. I was the wolfless girl, the motherless child, the dull one.
And now?
Now I was to be queen, thanks to some ancient text in a stupid scroll written by some seer who was long dead.
A pawn moved into place by treaties, prophecy, and desperation.
My stomach churned as Roan stepped toward me with calculated grace. Every movement was perfection, and yet i could feel the chill in it. Not indifference… no, i could have endured that.
This was rejection.
He stopped in front of me, and our eyes finally met.
His gaze, once warm with rare kindness when we were children, was like cold steel now. He did not smile. He did not offer his hand to me.
The High Seer handed him the ceremonial dagger, its handle carved from the tusk of a Moonbeast.
"Speak your vow," she said.
Roan's voice was low but clear. "I, Roan of House Vanar, son of Vexen, King of Aeloria, take Arin of the North Pack as my mate under the light of the moon, for the unity of the realm and the strength of our blood."
He sliced the blade across his palm and held it out. Blood dripped onto the runes.
No affection. No softness.
Not even my name on his tongue with reverence befitting is queen.
My breath caught in my throat.
"I, Arin of the North, daughter of Alpha Kael, accept Roan as my mate, under the light of the moon," i whispered, "for the realm, and its peace."
I cut my palm, and our blood mingled.
The runes beneath us pulsed once—recognition. The bond was sealed. The prophecy fulfilled.
We were mated.
And yet.
"The bond is forged," the High Seer declared. "It may now be sealed with a kiss."
The words echoed across the courtyard. A murmur rippled through the crowd.
I turned to Roan, my heart stuttering. This was the part i feared most—not because i longed for his kiss, but because i already knew he would deny her.
Still, i faced him.
He looked at me for a long moment—too long. I started to wonder if he would bestow the kiss on me
Then, in front of every elder, every warrior, every whispering mouth—
He stepped back.
"I have done my duty," he said, voice like glass. "The kiss is not required."
Gasps fluttered like wings.
The silence that followed was deafening.
I felt something cold and vicious rise in my chest.
This was not just rejection. It was humiliation. A message to the realm that i was not wanted. Not as queen, not as mate, not even as a woman.
I stood frozen, my wounded hand still outstretched, blood dripping onto white silk. Red bloomed across my palm like a rose, vivid and damning.
Somewhere in the crowd, a laugh was quickly stifled. I didn't look to find the source, i knew the only person who would be audacious enough to laugh at my humiliation.
But i did however, meet my father's gaze.
Alpha Kael stood tall among the Northern warriors, jaw clenched, eyes burning with quiet fury—not at her, never at her—but at the spectacle his daughter had been forced to endure.
I breathed in.
Once.
Twice.
Swallowed the lump rising in my throat.
And lifted my chin.
If Roan thought i would break here, in front of them all, then he was sadly mistaken. He had forgotten the girl raised in Northern snows, the girl who survived without a wolf in a world that saw her as less than nothing.
I turned her back to him.
"The bond is acknowledged," the High Seer announced, her voice now brittle with tension. "All shall recognize Queen Arin of the Unified Realm."
The crowd murmured their assent. Some bowed. Others barely inclined their heads.
Nova did neither.
She stood to the side, adorned in midnight-blue court dress, a jeweled circlet crowning her pale hair. Her eyes met mine without flinching, her smile sharp as a dagger.
Pity? No. There was none in her expression.
Just triumph, King Roan had just showed her that i was insignificant, not a threat to her.
As if she'd won something by watching her sister fall.
I felt my blood roar in my ears.
I walked down the ceremonial steps alone. Her hand throbbed, still bleeding.
No healer approached me.
No consort.
No king.
The cold wind whipped my veil away. And i let it go.
Let it tear through the air like the ghost of the girl i used to be.
The whispers followed her like wolves.
"Did you see—"
"He didn't even—"
"She's wolfless. What did she expect?"
"Poor thing. Or foolish."
Despite all i heard, i didn't flinch. I raised my chin high and continued to walk.
I walked past the nobles and their polished jewels. Past the councilors who would now serve me out of duty, not respect. Past the altar where my blood still glistened under the moonlight.
Behind me, Roan remained on the dais, flanked by guards, untouchable and stone-faced.