Chapter 1 The Coming Of Age

• Elara POV
• “I swore I would die before I willingly obeyed Alpha Fenris, but the mate bond was a savage liar stitched beneath my skin.”
• The air in the clearing was thick with the scent of pine and anticipation. Below the canopy, my pack, the small, predominantly female, and hopelessly weak Crescent Clan…celebrated the full moon. It was a night of transformation, a night when girls came of age and, hopefully, found the strength to shift. For them, it was the promise of a future; for me, it was a looming judgment. There were only a few males. Hence, it made finding a mate difficult, especially for females who were yet to shift into their wolf form. At twenty years old, I was already two years past the mandatory shift age and still pathetically, frustratingly human. My hybrid blood, a curse inherited from a lineage I barely understood, had made me an outcast. While the others danced, I was the joke, the half-wolf failure, isolated and vulnerable.
• “Don’t fret, Elara,” my adopted Aunt Masha murmured, her fingers deftly weaving through my long, dark hair. Her pack had taken me in when my parents died, but the pity in her eyes always stung more than the insults from the younger wolves. “You’ll shift when you’re ready…the Moon Goddess works in mysterious ways.” She added sweetly, Aunt Masha knew the words to say to make me feel better, but it didn't seem to be working for me.
• “Or she doesn’t work whatsoever for half-breeds,” I muttered, wincing as she tugged a knot loose. The sound of drumming and laughter from outside felt like a mockery. This full moon was supposed to be my milestone. Instead, it was becoming another reminder of my weakness and inability to contribute to the pack, even as a potential breeding female.
• “Nonsense…focus on the music. There is so much beauty in the world, little wolf.” She finished my braid, securing it with a small, carved wooden bead.
• “Is there?” I asked, leaning my head against the cool glass of my window. The sky outside was rapidly darkening. “The girls whisper about the great Alphas. They talk about Alpha Fenris of the Silver-Moon pack.” I said, recalling the talks at the bonfire the girls were having a few days ago. Aunt Masha stiffened, her hands falling away from my shoulder.
• “Elara, where did you hear that name?” she seemed shocked as she looked at me with narrowed eyes.
• “Everywhere. They say he’s a tyrant. A kingpin who takes what he wants. That he killed entire packs just to secure his territory…” I was certain such a man existed. “They say he only cares for gold and power.” I turned from the window, curiosity overriding my fear.
• “Aunt Masha, why does a man like that exist? Why does the Moon Goddess allow such cruelty?”
• Aunt Masha forced a strained laugh, though the light in her eyes was extinguished.
• “Those are just old wives’ tales, sweetheart… rumors spread by weak wolves to scare young girls. We are small and safe here, tucked away.” She stood, moving quickly to the chest where she kept the pack’s scarce weapons, mostly rusty blades and ancient arrows. “But we must always be vigilant. The world can be a dark place.”
• I watched her, a knot forming in my stomach. Her words were meant to be comforting, but they only fueled my unsettling curiosity. I returned to the window. The rain had begun, a cold, harsh downpour washing over the forest. And then I saw it: the moon was not silver tonight, it was a disturbing, bloody crimson. A cold chill, far deeper than the weather, ran down my spine, sinking into my bones. It felt less like a full moon and more like an omen.
• Aunt Masha grabbed my arm, her touch frantic.
• “Come on, Elara….the celebration has started. We must go out…. Tonight, we celebrate the new breeding females—the strength of our future.” She dragged me from the relative safety of the room and into the main hall, where twenty other young women stood, their eyes bright with the fever of their first shift. They looked at me, the half-breed who couldn’t even shift—with disdain. Tonight, their femininity was validated; their worth was affirmed. Mine was not.
• “Why is she here?”
• “Her time passed; she's too old to shift,” I heard the girls whispering among themselves, their eyes full of disdain saying it all. I was the unwanted female in the pack.
• “That's enough, girls…the ceremony is about to start… Elara is one of you, and she's blessed by the moon goddess just like everyone else,” my aunt said to keep the silence. Unfortunately, it was the same all the time. I fixed my dress and joined the line as the rituals began. I could see my aunt smiling and my two friends cheering me up as we danced around the circle of fire. The heavy rains added to the scenery; it was a special night. I could feel my wolf calling out to me. This was my night to shift and finally have my wolf.
• ____
• Just as the oldest elder began the traditional full moon chant, the celebratory drumming was violently interrupted. A sound that wasn't thunder, but something heavy and metallic splintering wood. The air changed instantly, replacing the scent of pine with something sharp, coppery, and terrifyingly dominant.
• “What's happening?” Rose murmured. I glanced at my aunt, and she gestured to me to calm down while she asked the werewolf guards to check it out. However, just then, the main doors of the lodge burst inward with a sickening sound of splintered wood and tearing flesh. The room plunged into instant chaos. Towering, scarred wolves, clad in dark, functional gear and reeking of power, flooded the hall. They moved with terrifying precision, not in a feral frenzy, but with the cold, controlled intent of professional executioners. Their fur was the color of shadows, and their eyes glowed silver—the mark of the Silver-Moon Pack.
• Panic became a silent, paralyzing scream in my throat. I saw Aunt Masha, her face twisted in a silent snarl of courage, try to draw a rusted blade. A silver wolf, massive and quick, struck her down before the blade was fully free.
• “R-run, Elara…run!” I heard my aunt's voice of agony through the piercing sharp blades.
• The massacre was brutal, quick, and devoid of mercy. I watched, frozen by sheer terror, as my entire world dissolved into blood and howls. They were not fighting; they were slaughtering. And then, standing on the threshold, emerging from the dark downpour, was a figure so immense, so radiating cold, dominant power that even the Silver-Moon wolves gave him space.
• He was tall, built like a statue carved from granite and malice. His dark hair was slicked back by the rain, and his gaze was not on the battle but on the prize.
• “A-alpha Fenris,” it was Aunt Masha who whispered as I saw him lock eyes with her as she took her final, gurgling breath. He didn't blink. He only nodded once to his men, a gesture that signaled the end of my life as I knew it. An icy spike of pain—spiritual, deep, and searing—shot through my chest, the violent snap of something I didn't understand, instantly coupled with the Alpha’s wolf crushing the connection through sheer dominance.
• “Aunt! No!” I staggered, falling to my knees in the sticky red pooling on the floor, the stench of death overwhelming me. My hatred was born in that moment, burning white-hot beneath the agony of the forcefully overridden bond. I made a silent, eternal vow: I would see this monster suffer.
• “Aunt, wake up…aunt!” I crawled to where she was, escaping from the strong hands trying to hold me back. She was lifeless.
• Alpha Fenris, satisfied with the carnage, finally turned his back on the slaughter, giving a curt order. His voice was a cold, brutal instrument that resonated with authority.
• “Secure the route....and take the remaining females. They are now property.”
• I stared at the back of the tyrant who had taken everything until a heavy hand clamped down on my arm, dragging me through the blood-drenched ruin of my home. The last thing I saw before I was pulled into the storm was the crimson moon, watching me go.