The moon was high, bloated with silver light, casting an ethereal glow across the Silverfang grounds. Every heartbeat echoed like a drum in Aria Thorn's ears. She stood barefoot on the sacred stone circle, her white ceremonial gown billowing in the cool night wind. Around her, her pack watched in tense anticipation, faces half-shrouded in shadow and suspicion.
Tonight was supposed to be the night she became one of them—truly. Eighteen years old. The age when every werewolf shifted for the first time. The age when the blood sang and the bones broke and reformed into something stronger. The age of destiny.
Her palms were clammy, but she kept her spine straight. She searched the crowd for Kael, the alpha. Her boyfriend. Her mate-to-be.
He stood at the edge of the gathering, golden eyes locked on her, arms crossed. Strong. Silent. Unreadable.
A wolf howled in the distance—deep, primal, a song of change.
Aria closed her eyes and reached inward.
Now. It has to be now.
She felt… heat. A flicker. Then it faded.
Her chest tightened.
She tried again.
Nothing.
A hush fell over the crowd. Murmurs rippled like poison through the air.
"She's not shifting..."
"Is she human?"
"No one fails at eighteen."
Another try. Aria clenched her fists. Her veins felt like ice. Her wolf—silent. Her body, unchanged. No snap of bone. No shift of spirit.
And then—Kael stepped forward.
Her heart jumped with hope. He'll say something. Defend me. Tell them it's just late.
But his gaze was hard. Distant.
"That's enough," he said to the crowd. His voice rang clear. Authority laced in every word. "She's tried. She's not one of us."
A gasp rippled.
Aria took a step forward. "Kael…"
He looked at her, but not like he used to. Not like she was his girl. Not like she was anything.
"I thought you were strong, Aria. I thought you were worthy." His voice cracked like frost. "But I can't have a mate who isn't even a wolf."
The words struck like a blade to her chest.
"You're… breaking up with me?"
"You don't belong here anymore."
Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not in front of them.
Not in front of him.
You said you loved me. She wanted to scream. You said I was yours.
Instead, she turned, her fists clenched, her breath ragged.
She walked through the crowd—packmates who turned their faces away, who whispered behind hands, who once smiled at her. Now, they looked at her like she was dirt.
No one followed.
No one stopped her.
She walked past the last stone at the edge of Silverfang's borders and into the trees, where shadows swallowed the moonlight and wolves didn't go without reason.
She didn't know where she was going. Only that she was going.
Gone.
From the pack. From him.
And somewhere deep inside her, something began to stir—slow, aching, angry.
Not her wolf.
Not yet.
But a promise of something much, much darker.
---
Cliffhanger End: In the silence of the forest, a growl echoed—low, ancient, not from any Silverfang wolf. Something was watching her.
Something that had been waiting.