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A cursed princess. An abandoned mate. A prophecy written in blood and moonlight. Selene was never meant to love - not as a witch, not as a wolf. But when the tournament forces her to face Alpha Aria, the she-wolf who once rejected her fated mate, the past claws its way into the present. Miles away, Kieran bleeds beneath the moon, his soul tied to a bond neither time nor magic can sever. As forgotten powers awaken, and fate demands sacrifice, Selene must choose: vengeance or love - or let darkness devour them all. ---
Chapter 1 THE CHOOSING NIGHT
The Grand Hall of the Crescent Howl Pack glistened like a cathedral of frost and fire.
Crystal chandeliers sparkled from above, their light dancing across the ancient stone walls.
Tapestries bearing the sigils of noble bloodlines hung proudly, and polished silver platters overflowed with delicacies known only to the elite of the European werewolf territories. It was a celebration-opulent, proud, and purposeful.
Tonight, their Alpha would discover her fated mate.
And the world would witness it.
Aria Nightbane descended the marble staircase like a storm in human form. Draped in crimson silk and wolfbone armour that shimmered in moonlight, her long black hair swept behind her like a banner. She walked with the poise of royalty and the danger of a blade unsheathed.
Eyes followed her. Some with admiration. Others with fear. But none dared speak. Not until the Seer's voice echoed through the vaulted chamber.
"The Moon has spoken. The bond is clear."
Gasps rippled through the crowd as a name was spoken-one no one had expected.
"Kieran Vale."
Silence struck the room like a blow.
From the back of the hall, a tall figure stepped forward. Dressed plainly in worn leather and dark wool, Kieran Vale moved without hesitation. His face was striking-sculpted cheekbones, a strong jaw, and storm-grey eyes that never left hers. His hair, thick and tousled, fell just above his shoulders.
But there was no crest on his chest. No noble markings. No title.
And worst of all?
No wolf.
Aria's golden eyes narrowed as he approached the dais. The fated bond tugged at her chest-an invisible thread spun by the Moon Goddess herself. It hummed against her skin like heat.
But she felt... nothing.
Not excitement. Not longing.
Only annoyance.
He doesn't even have a wolf, she thought, her lip curling slightly.
How can the Moon insult me with this?
Kieran stopped before her, proud and calm, his head bowed slightly-not in submission, but respect.
"Alpha Aria," he said, voice deep and composed.
She stared at him.
Then laughed.
A cold, sharp sound that sliced through the hushed crowd like a dagger.
"This is a mistake," she said loudly, turning to the Seer. "The Moon must be blind."
Whispers exploded.
"Surely not..."
"He's not even from a noble line..."
"Wasn't he born without a wolf spirit?"
Aria turned her gaze back to Kieran, voice ringing across the stone floor.
"I will not bond with a male who holds no title, no wolf, and no power. I am Alpha. I will not be tethered to the shadows of someone unworthy."
Kieran's face remained unreadable. He did not lower his eyes. He did not plead.
Aria stepped forward, her voice lowering, cold and cutting.
"You were fated to me by magic. But I choose with my mind-and my heart. And my heart belongs to someone else."
A murmur rose. Aria's gaze flicked to a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing at the edge of the crowd-Alpha Dorian, leader of the Nightfang Pack. Dark, dangerous, and powerful. A rival Alpha from across the Rhine.
Kieran followed her gaze. Understood. But said nothing.
Mocking laughter broke out behind him-other warriors, nobles, even some elders. Snide comments hissed through the crowd.
"The Moon really wasted her thread on him."
"How does one even exist without a wolf?"
"Poor thing. Bet he thought he'd finally matter."
But Kieran didn't flinch.
He simply stood tall, eyes locked with Aria's one final time.
Then turned.
And walked out of the hall without a word.
No shame. No fear.
Only purpose.
Aria watched him go, arms folded, jaw tight.
Let him walk. Let him vanish. I am destined for greatness-not a broken warrior from nowhere.
But somewhere deep within her, a thread began to smoulder-not the bond, but the beginning of a storm.
A storm she would come to regret ever unleashing.
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