“Watch where you’re going, freak!”
The word hit before his shoulder did. My books jolted. My yearbook slipped from my grip and slapped the floor, pages flaring open like it was trying to escape me. The hallway swam with noise, laughter, footsteps, the shriek of a locker door, yet somehow that one word still found the centre of me, like it had a map to every bruise I’d ever swallowed. Freak. That was me. The pack’s wolfless unknown-origin mistake.
Robert Wilson brushed past as if I’d deliberately thrown myself in his path. He didn’t even pause. He didn’t have to. Wolves like him, clean-blooded, wolf-strong, certain of their place, never had to stop for girls like me. I bent down slowly, swallowing the sting in my throat, and gathered my things with careful hands. The floor felt colder than it should have. So did the air. This was the usual treatment. I’d learned the hard way not to hope for anything better from the pack.
“Can’t you smell where you’re going?” someone muttered nearby, and a few voices chuckled like my humiliation was a snack they could share.
I kept my head down. There was no point arguing. I’d learnt that the hard way. Arguing got you shoved. Shoving got you hit. And getting beaten up when you were wolfless wasn’t like getting beaten up for everyone else. Wolves healed fast, bones knitting, bruises fading, pain turning into a memory in hours, not days. Me? Sometimes it took weeks. Sometimes it took longer. I carried old bruises like other girls carried jewellery.
At twenty, I still hadn’t shifted. No wolf. No heightened reflexes. No healing. No strength. Just a body that broke the way humans did. Some people said my father had been a cursed rogue. Others liked the witch story better, said he must have been something disgraceful from the Outlands, something unnatural that explained why I was… like this. Why I could smell the Moon and still be untouched by her.
I didn’t believe any of it. I didn’t care. The only thing I cared about, truly, desperately, was the one truth the pack didn’t know. I had a mate. Not a mate. The mate. And fate, in its cruel sense of humour, had tied me to the very person who was least allowed to want me.
Kieran Whitewolf.
The Alpha’s son. The future Alpha. Vandwood’s golden heir. The boy the pack loved. The boy I loved in secret. The boy who loved me… only where no one could see.
I pulled my yearbook to my chest and walked on, trying to ignore the way my ribs ached from the shove. Today was supposed to be light. Today was supposed to be an ending I could survive. It was graduation day. The last day I would have a legitimate reason to set foot inside the academy without being chased away like a stray.
Part of me was relieved. No more daily bullying. No more corridor traps. No more laughter that followed me like a shadow. But another part of me… the softer part I hated for existing… mourned it. Because after today, my world would shrink to the outskirts again. The outcast cabins. The narrow paths between trees. My mother’s tired silence. My own loneliness. A life with no friends and nowhere to go was still a hard life, even when you were used to it.
I passed a group of girls huddled by the windows, their hair glossy, their uniforms crisp. They were already signing each other’s books, squealing over memories, planning parties. When my eyes drifted their way, one of them tilted her chin and smirked.
“Who’s going to sign yours, Moonchild?”
she asked, loud enough for the hall to hear.
My stomach tightened. Moonchild. My surname. A name that sounded like a blessing until the pack put it in their mouths and twisted it into mockery.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t stop. I just hugged the yearbook tighter, more as a shield than a keepsake, and kept walking. There was no point joining the others. No one was going to sign my book anyway.
I was halfway down the hall when a movement caught my eye. A tall figure near the far end. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. A familiar stride that my body recognised before my mind could catch up. My breath hitched. Kieran. He shouldn’t have been here. He’d graduated two years ago. He had patrols, training, council meetings, a future that was already being carved into stone by the pack’s expectations. Yet there he was, cutting through the corridor like he owned it.
My chest filled with something dangerous. Hope. And because I was looking, because I was stupid with hope, I didn’t see the person stepping into my path until it was too late.
I collided with her. My shoulder slammed into a hard body. My yearbook jolted against my chest. The scent hit me a second later, sweet, expensive perfume layered over wolf power. Beverly. The belle of the academy. The girl everyone whispered would be the future Luna, because she had everything a Luna was supposed to have: pedigree, beauty, a formidable wolf, and a smile polished sharp enough to cut.
Fate hadn’t chosen her. Fate had chosen me.
“Are you blind?”
Beverly’s voice cracked like a whip.
“I’m sorry,”
I blurted immediately, stepping back. Apologies were reflex now, automatic, like breathing.
“I didn’t mean, ”
Her eyes narrowed, scanning me like I was something stuck to her shoe. Then her gaze dropped to the book clutched in my arms.
“Oh.” Her lips curled.
“Your yearbook.”
My throat tightened. I wanted to keep walking. I wanted to reach the exit and never come back. I wanted to survive the last day without bleeding. But Beverly stepped closer.
“I’m glad,”
she said, loud and clear,
“that we won’t have to deal with seeing your face around here anymore.”
A few students turned. A few slowed, sensing entertainment. My cheeks burned.
Beverly leaned in, voice dripping sweetness.
“Clutching that thing around like it matters. No one’s going to sign it, you know.”
I stared at the floor.
“You’re destined to be alone,”
she continued,
“like your slut of a mother.”
Something flared in me, heat and fury and humiliation, so sharp it made my vision blur. I could have hit her. I could have. But I’d promised myself I would survive today. Just survive. So I swallowed it. I lifted my head just enough to speak evenly.
“Please move.”
Beverly smiled as if I’d entertained her.
“Are you dumb?” she asked.
“Can’t speak properly? Or did you finally realise everything we’ve been saying is true?”
Her friends snickered behind her. The hallway had formed a loose circle now, bodies angled in, hungry. I tried to step around her. She didn’t let me.
Her hand shot out and slammed me back against the lockers. Metal bit into my spine with a brutal thud. Pain exploded through my back. I gasped, the air leaving my lungs in a harsh rush. And that was it. The moment turned. I saw it in her eyes, she wasn’t going to let me walk away. Not today. Not on my last day. She needed to mark it. Needed to send me out with a bruise the pack could remember.
I pushed off the locker, my hands shaking, my heart pounding so hard it made my ears ring. I threw a punch. Too slow. Damned human reflexes.
Beverly dodged easily and slammed her fist into my stomach. White-hot pain tore through me. I folded with a strangled sound, bile rising fast. I coughed, choking, tasting something sour and metallic. She grabbed my shoulder and shoved me down. My knees hit the floor. The hallway tilted. Laughter surged like a wave.
“Stay down, Moonchild!”
someone called, as if they were giving me helpful advice.
I should have stayed down. That would have been smart. But something in me, something stubborn and foolish, refused. I pushed up, shaking, my breath ragged.
Beverly’s boot cracked into my ribs. Pain flashed so bright it stole my sight for a second. I collapsed again, breath wheezing out of me. Laughter. Another kick. I tried to rise. Another kick. My body screamed. My lungs burned. My mouth filled with blood. Still, I forced myself up, tears stinging my eyes, not from weakness, I told myself, but from pain. From sheer bodily betrayal. No one helped. Instructors passed the end of the hall and looked away. Students watched like it was normal, like it was tradition, like it was what outcast blood deserved.
And then I heard his voice.
“Stop, Beverly.”
Kieran.
The sound of him went through me like an arrow, sharp, straight to the heart. Beverly froze mid-motion, her foot hovering as if she was deciding whether she could get one more kick in before she obeyed. I lifted my head, vision blurred, and saw him stepping into the circle. Tall. Commanding. Beautiful in the way wolves were beautiful, dangerous and worshipped.
Relief flooded me so hard it almost made me dizzy. He’s here. He saw. He’ll, ,
“Are you trying to kill her?”
Kieran asked, voice edged with anger.
For a moment, I thought the pack would shift. That the air would change. That someone would finally remember I was a person.
Beverly scoffed.
“She doesn’t know her place.”
Kieran walked closer. I could see only his legs clearly from where I lay, but I could feel him, his scent, his presence, the way my entire body reacted like he was the only real thing in the room. He bent. His hand closed around my arm. Gentle. So gentle it hurt more than the kicks.
He helped me up, and my body leaned toward him automatically, desperate for support, desperate for the one safe place I’d ever known. I reached for him.
And he pulled away.
Not violently. Not with disgust. Just… quickly. Precisely. Like a man remembering where he was.
Beverly laughed, sharp and bright.
“You shouldn’t touch that, Kieran. You’ll catch something.”
More laughter followed, cruel and delighted. I looked at him through tears I couldn’t stop now, pain tears, humiliation tears, hope dying in real time.
Kieran didn’t look at me the way he looked at me at night. He didn’t touch my face. He didn’t say, She’s mine. He didn’t say, Stop. He didn’t say anything that would expose what we were.
Instead, he said, flat and controlled,
“Go home.”
Two words. Not Nyra. Not Are you alright? Not I’m sorry. Just: Go home.
Then he turned and walked away as if I were a stranger. As if he’d only stepped in to stop a disturbance. As if he hadn’t kissed me in the dark and promised me forever. The laughter followed him like approval.
I stood there swaying, blood on my tongue, my yearbook crushed against my chest, my body throbbing, my heart splintering quietly where no one could see. And I wondered, truly wondered, for the first time in four years… how long would he keep pretending? How long would he keep loving me in shadows and abandoning me in daylight?
Because he hadn’t rejected me. He’d held on. He’d kept me. He’d taken pieces of me for four years and tucked them into his secret places. So I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand anything anymore.
I staggered out of the hall on shaking legs, and the only thought I could cling to, the only thing that kept me from collapsing completely, was the bond itself.
The Moon doesn’t make mistakes, I told myself.
Fate doesn’t tie souls for nothing.
Chapter 2 Where We Sin in Silence
Nyra’s POV
I didn’t go home after Beverly finished with me.
I couldn’t.
Home meant my mother’s eyes, sharp enough to slice through any lie. Home meant questions I didn’t know how to answer. Home meant that quiet corner of the pack where pain echoed louder because nothing else lived there.
So I limped into the woods instead.
Night came quickly, the sky bruising purple, the air damp with rain waiting to fall. My ribs ached with every breath, and my side burned where her boot had landed again and again. Each step sent the same message through my body: you’re human. you’re soft. you’re breakable.
I hated that the pack could make me feel like a mistake in my own skin.
I hated even more that I still carried hope like a sickness I couldn’t cure.
The cabin sat deeper in the woods, hidden behind thick branches and climbing vines. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t his either. Abandoned years ago, left to rot, and somehow it became ours.
A place for secrets.
A place for love that couldn’t survive daylight.
I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The air was cold and stale, but it still held traces of him, pine smoke, steel, and something warm that made my chest ache.
I sank onto the edge of the narrow bed and pressed my yearbook to my lap.
The cover was bent. A smear of dried blood marked one corner where I must’ve grabbed it after Beverly kicked me down.
Graduation.
Everyone else would have pages filled with signatures and inside jokes and promises to visit.
Mine would stay blank.
I stared at it until my vision blurred, not from the ache in my ribs, but from the heavier pain behind my eyes. The kind that didn’t bruise, but still bled.
A sound outside made me stiffen.
Footsteps.
Fast. Controlled. Familiar.
The door swung open so hard it hit the wall.
Kieran stood there, chest rising and falling like he’d run the whole way, hair damp with mist, eyes darker than I’d ever seen them.
For a moment he didn’t move.
He just looked at me, like he needed to see me alive with his own eyes before his lungs remembered how to work.
Then he crossed the room in three strides and dropped to his knees in front of me.
His hands cupped my face, thumbs brushing the corners of my mouth with careful, trembling gentleness.
“Nyra.” My name came out like a prayer. Like a wound.
I flinched when his fingers grazed a tender spot near my jaw.
His eyes narrowed instantly. “They did this.”
“It’s fine,” I whispered, because that was what I always said. Because the truth felt too big to fit inside the room.
Kieran’s jaw flexed. His hands slid down to my wrists, as if he needed to hold me to stop himself from doing something violent.
“I heard,” he said, voice low, tight. “I heard what happened.”
Something in me cracked. “Did you?”
Confusion flickered, then guilt.
“Yes,” he said. “Of course I did.”
I laughed softly, and it sounded wrong. “No. I mean… did you see and hear what they said too? Or were you busy pretending you didn’t know me?”
His breath caught.
He looked away for half a second, and it was all the answer I needed.
Kieran leaned in, forehead pressing to mine. His hands slid around the back of my neck, holding me like he was afraid I’d vanish.
“I’m glad,” he whispered. “I’m glad you won’t have to deal with them anymore.”
The words should’ve comforted me.
Instead, they twisted something deep in my stomach.
“Glad,” I echoed. “You’re glad.”
He lifted his head, frowning. “That’s not what I, Nyra, look at you. You’re bleeding. You’re hurt. You don’t heal like we do. I can’t, ” His voice cracked, and he swallowed. “I can’t keep watching them do this to you.”
I stared at him, my chest tight. “Then stop it.”
His eyes widened. “I am trying.”
“No,” I said, sharper than I meant. “You try in private. You try here where no one can see. But out there…” I tilted my head, and my ribs screamed. I ignored it. “Out there you let them believe I’m nothing.”
Kieran’s face hardened, not at me, at himself.
He exhaled slowly, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a small cloth. He dabbed gently at the blood near my lip.
The tenderness made my throat burn.
“Promise me something,” he said.
I stared at him. “What?”
“Stay away from them,” he said, voice rough. “Stay away from the academy after today. Don’t go near Beverly. Don’t go near the training yard. Don’t, ” His eyes lifted, intense. “Don’t give them an opening.”
My laugh came out broken. “Kieran… they don’t need an opening. I exist. That’s enough.”
He went still.
Then his hands slid back to my cheeks, firmer now, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“You’re not thinking,” he said.
“What should I be thinking like?” I whispered. “Like an outcast? Like someone who should accept being beaten quietly so I don’t embarrass the pack?”
His throat bobbed.
I saw anger there, real anger, but not aimed at them.
It was aimed at the situation.
At the truth he couldn’t stand to say out loud.
My voice dropped. “Why did you pull away?”
He blinked.
“In the hall,” I continued, my mouth dry. “When you helped me up. I reached for you, and you, ” My fingers curled into my skirt. “You moved away like I was something you didn’t want to touch.”
Pain flashed across his face. “Nyra, ”
“Are you ashamed of me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, ugly, raw. “Because if you are, say it. If you don’t want me, reject me. You’re the Alpha’s son. You can. You could’ve done it years ago.”
Kieran’s face drained of colour like I’d struck him.
He grabbed my hands and pulled them to his chest.
“Don’t,” he said, voice shaking now. “Don’t say that.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
His eyes searched mine like he was drowning.
“I pulled away because people were watching,” he admitted, and the confession hit like a stone. “Because if I held you the way I wanted to, if I touched you the way I touch you here, ”
“Then they’d know,” I finished bitterly.
“Yes.” His voice broke on the word. “And they’d destroy you even more for it. They’d rip you apart just to punish me. To punish us.”
I stared at him. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a bruise.
“You think you’re protecting me,” I whispered.
“I am.” His grip tightened. “Nyra, you’re everything to me. Everything. I can’t lose you.”
The words were exactly what I needed.
And they still hurt.
Because love that had to be hidden didn’t feel like love.
It felt like being buried alive.
“Kieran,” I whispered, “I’m already losing myself.”
He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. Then my temple. Then the corner of my mouth where the blood had dried. Gentle kisses that made my body ache with need and my heart ache with grief.
“I love you,” he said against my skin. “I love you so much it scares me.”
My throat tightened. “Then why does it feel like I’m the only one who pays for it?”
Chapter 3, Promises Made in Darkness
Nyra’s POV
Kieran eyes flashed at my words,
“You’re not.”
But words weren’t enough tonight. They felt empty and hollow. A love he was ashamed of could not be real. But then why would he hold on for four years?
“Then when will you tell them?” I asked, and my voice shook with how badly I needed the answer. “When will you stop pretending I’m a stranger?”
Kieran went still. I watched the weight settle on him. Then he cupped my face and looked straight into my eyes like he meant it.
“Soon,” he said. “I promise. Soon.”
The word hit me like warmth. Like healing. Like the Moon finally turning her face toward me. I wanted to doubt him. I wanted to be smarter. But I’d been starving for so long, and he was the only thing that ever felt like food. So I nodded. I believed him. And in that belief, my body softened the way it always did when he spoke to me like I mattered.
Kieran stood and pulled me up carefully, as if I were glass. He guided me to the bed, sat behind me, and drew me into his arms. I melted into him instantly, the way I always did. The way I hated myself for. His hand slid over my hair in slow strokes that made my eyes sting.
“We’ll have our own place,” he murmured. “Not out there. Not like this. A real home. Somewhere no one can touch you.”
I closed my eyes.
“And my mother?”
“She comes with us,” he said without hesitation. “If she wants. If you want.”
My chest tightened.
“You say that now,” I whispered.
“I mean it.” His mouth brushed my ear. “We’ll make our own pack if we have to.”
I let out a shaky breath.
“You talk like you can just… leave.”
Kieran’s arms tightened.
“When I become Alpha, everything changes.”
There it was. The future. The later that kept me in shadows.
“When I become alpha and they don’t accept you. I will force them if I have to,”
He kissed my shoulder softly.
“Tell me you believe me.”
I turned slightly, my bruised ribs protesting, and looked up at him.
“You’ve had four years,” I whispered.
His face tightened.
“I know.”
“And still no one knows. Not even Charles and he is your best friend, your beta,”
“I know.” He lifted my hand and pressed it to his chest. “But I’m not letting you go. Never.”
My pulse stuttered. He shifted closer, his lips finding mine properly, slow at first, then deeper, hungrier, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn’t say in daylight into that kiss. I kissed him back like I couldn’t afford pride. Like love was the only thing keeping me alive. His hands slid to my waist, holding me as if my bones might come apart. He pulled me onto his lap, careful of my bruises, and I curled against him, trembling. He kissed my cheek, my jaw, my throat, each touch a promise. Each touch a lie I wanted to believe.
“I want children with you,” he whispered suddenly.
I froze, breath catching.
“Kieran…”
He smiled faintly, and it was so soft it wrecked me.
“Our daughter,” he said, like it was already real. “I want her to look like you.”
Tears stung my eyes. I tried to laugh.
“She’d be bullied.”
“No,” he said fiercely, and the Alpha in him flashed. “Not my daughter. Not you. Never again.”
His fingers brushed my cheek, catching the tear that slipped free.
“And our son,” he went on, voice quieter now, almost dreamlike. “He’ll have your eyes. He’ll be stubborn like you.”
I swallowed hard.
“You make it sound easy.”
“It will be,” he said. “When I claim you. When I stop hiding us.” He kissed my forehead. “You won’t be in the shadows anymore. I swear it.”
My heart cracked open, wide and aching. I nodded because I wanted to live in that world. I wanted to be the girl who got chosen loudly.
We spent most of the night like that, talking in whispers, curled together in the cabin, his hands never far from me. When I flinched from pain, he soothed me. When my voice trembled, he kissed my lips steady. And somewhere between his warmth and the darkness outside, I almost forgot the pack existed. Almost forgot I was the girl they didn’t claim.
Kieran kissed me again, slower this time, and I dissolved into him.
“I’ll always love you,” he murmured against my mouth. “I’ll always look out for you.”
I believed him. Because I needed to. Then his arms tightened, and his voice turned serious, too serious.
“Promise me something,” he said.
I blinked.
“What?”
“Promise me you’ll never leave me,” he whispered.
My chest tightened.
“Kieran, ”
“Promise,” he insisted, eyes burning into mine. “No matter what happens. No matter what you hear. No matter what anyone says. You don’t leave me.”
A chill slid down my spine. It was such a strange thing to ask. Such a desperate thing. But his hands were warm on my face, and his mouth had just been on mine, and he looked at me like I was the only thing keeping him human. So I nodded.
“I promise,” I whispered.
Only then did his shoulders drop, like he’d been holding his breath for years.
Chapter 4 Watching Him Choose Her
Nyra’s POV
The next day, my body screamed when I woke. Bruises bloomed dark along my ribs and stomach. My jaw ached. My lip was swollen. I moved like someone twice my age. But my heart felt… lighter. Because he’d promised. Because soon was a word I clung to like a lifeline. My mother was away all morning so I didn’t have to explain what happened to her. I wasn’t a child anymore, I was a grown woman now and for that she let me have my space. When she arrived in the afternoon, an envelope arrived too. The postman delivered it as if it were a heavy burden but since we were used to the treatment it didn’t matter. I examined the envelope. In it was a thick paper with an official seal. My mother’s eyes narrowed as I removed the sealed paper. I broke it open with shaking fingers.
Mandatory attendance. Graduation honour ceremony. Alpha Ethan Whitewolf will be presenting gifts to the ace students.
A graduation party. My stomach dropped. I wished I didn’t have to go. I wished I could disappear into the woods and stay there forever, safe inside a secret that still hurt, but at least was mine. But it was mandatory. And this was my last day. One last time. I could endure one last time.
The hall was crowded that evening, music, laughter, the scent of roasted meat and expensive perfume. Wolves filled the room in bright clothes, shining smiles, easy belonging. I stood alone near the edge, hands clasped tightly in front of me, trying to make myself disappear. People glanced at me and looked away. Some smirked. Some whispered. No one came near. My heartbeat thudded loudly in my ears. I scanned the room instinctively, searching for one face. Kieran. He was there. Of course he was. Standing with his friends, Louis and Charles among them, laughing, relaxed, handsome in a way that made my chest ache. I waited for his eyes to meet mine. Waited for him to remember his promise. For him to come to me. To introduce me. To do something, anything, that proved last night wasn’t just another secret dream.
His gaze flicked to me. For a second, hope surged. Then he looked away. Just like always. My stomach twisted. I forced a breath. It’s nothing. He’s just being careful. It’s just for tonight. I repeated it in my head like prayer. The head of the academy took the stage, calling the room to attention. The music lowered. The crowd gathered. Alpha Ethan Whitewolf stood tall beside him, proud and powerful, and the room practically bowed beneath his presence. Awards were announced. Cheers followed each name. Then,
“Top student,” the headmaster said, smiling. “Beverly Crestwood.”
Applause exploded. Beverly stepped forward in a shimmering dress, her wolf practically glowing beneath her skin with confidence. She accepted her gift, beaming. And then the headmaster announced,
“A dance to honour the ace students.”
Music swelled. My throat tightened. Beverly turned toward Kieran as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And Kieran, Kieran stepped forward. He offered her his hand. In public. In front of everyone. My heart stopped. Beverly’s fingers slid into his like she owned them. Like she belonged there. Like she was exactly what the pack wanted beside him. And Kieran pulled her close. Not at a polite distance. Not formal. He held her with a hand on her waist, firm, intimate, guiding her across the floor as if he’d done it a hundred times. As if she mattered. As if he wasn’t terrified of being seen touching the wrong girl. As if… I had never existed at all. And it hurt.
The pain tore through me like nothing I’d felt before. I tried to stay calm, but my heart wouldn’t listen. It ached from the bond, from the weight of my feelings, from loving and being kept in the shadows with no hope of ever seeing the light. My heart hurt in a way I didn’t know how to survive. I stood there, frozen, watching. The room blurred at the edges. My chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. It’s just for the evening, I told myself desperately. It’s politics. It’s appearances. It’s nothing. But my body didn’t believe it. My body only knew the sight of him holding someone else. Holding her openly. Holding her the way he’d never held me anywhere the world could witness. Something cracked inside me, softly, quietly, completely.
I turned before anyone could see my face. Before the tears could spill. I walked fast, too fast, out of the hall, down the corridor, and into the cold night air. The garden was empty, moonlight silvering the hedges and stone paths. My breath came out in shaky bursts. I pressed a hand to my chest like I could keep my heart from falling apart. I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t. This was fine. This was nothing. This was...
A sound behind me. Footsteps. I spun, my heart pounding so violently it made me dizzy. Kieran stepped into the garden, his expression unreadable in the moonlight.
“Nyra,” he said softly.
My throat closed. He walked toward me, slow and careful, like I might shatter if he moved too quickly. And then he stopped a few feet away, eyes locked on mine.
“I need to talk to you,” he said.
The way he said it, low, urgent, almost afraid, turned my blood cold. Because suddenly I couldn’t tell if he’d come to comfort me… or to destroy what was left of me. And my heart, already breaking, waited, trembling, to find out which.
Chapter 5 A Heart I Wasn’t Meant to Have
Nyra’s POV
Kieran exhaled, the sound sharp, like it hurt him to breathe.
“I didn’t want you to witness that,” he said, voice tight. “The dance. I didn’t want you standing there watching me with her.”
I laughed once, small and hollow, and it scraped my throat on the way out.
“You didn’t want me to witness it,” I repeated, like I was testing the words for meaning.
His hands flexed at his sides. He looked like he wanted to reach for me and didn’t dare.
“It was… protocol,” he said. “Serving the pack. Beverly was the ace student. It was either she danced with my father or with me. And it couldn’t be Father. Not tonight.”
His words fell between us like stones. I nodded slowly, because my brain understood what he was trying to say. But my chest, my chest was doing something else entirely. Because it wasn’t the dance. Not really. It was the way he held her. The way he didn’t hesitate. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t scan the room first like it might explode if anyone saw his hand on a woman’s waist. He’d held her like she belonged there. Like she fit. Like touching her in front of everyone was the most natural thing in the world. And I, I had spent four years learning the shape of his love in darkness. Four years learning how to be quiet enough to keep him. Four years learning to accept scraps like they were a feast, because at least they were his. He could hold Beverly like that. But never me. Never me.
And the most brutal part? His friends were right there. Louis. Charles. Wolves he trusted. Wolves who would one day be his inner circle. They didn’t even know who I was to him. That fact slammed into me harder than any of Beverly’s kicks. Because if he could live with that, if he could laugh with them while I stood alone in the corner like a stain, then what did that make me? Not a mate. A secret. A mistake he kept revisiting. My lip trembled. Tears pooled before I could stop them. I hated myself for it. I hated that my body still betrayed me with softness when my heart was begging for steel.
“How long?” I managed.
My voice was small. Broken. Just two words, but they carried four years of swallowing. Kieran’s jaw tightened. His eyes darkened, flicking over my face as if he could physically see the cracks forming.
“Nyra...”
“How long?” I whispered again, and the tears spilled properly now, hot tracks down my cheeks. “How long do you want me to keep doing this?”
He didn’t answer. The silence was the answer. It hung between us, heavy and cruel, filled with everything he couldn’t bring himself to say. Kieran took a step forward like he was going to close the distance, like he was going to pull me into his arms and make the world disappear the way he always did. Then he stopped. Because even here, in the garden, with the moon watching, he was still measuring the risk of touching me.
“To make it better,” he said finally, voice strained, “I have to be Alpha. You know this, right?”
I stared at him through tears, blinking hard, trying to clear my vision. Because his soon, his soon was a horizon that kept moving. His soon was a promise that might never become real.
“I bleed, Kieran,” I whispered, my voice shaking as the tears kept spilling. “My heart breaks. How much of this do you expect me to take? How much more pain do I have to swallow before you finally make it okay?”
My chest tightened. Rage and grief tangled together until I could barely breathe.
“I told you to reject me and walk away four years ago,” I said, the words coming sharper now. “Because I knew we had no future. But you insisted. You called us a blessing, yet you treat me like a curse.”
He stepped closer.
“Nyra, please...”
But I shook my head, hard.
“I’d reject you in a heartbeat if I could,” I said, forcing the truth out like it was lodged in my throat. “If I had a wolf. If it was my right. I would do it, just so you’d have nothing to be ashamed of. So you wouldn’t owe me,” my voice broke, and I swallowed it down, “a freak, anything.”
He flinched like I’d slapped him, shaking his head as if my words offended him. But they were true.
“I’d do it, Kieran,” I went on, tears sliding down my cheeks, hot and humiliating. “But you know I can’t. So I’m asking you, how long do I have to be a secret?”
His jaw clenched. Panic bled into his expression.
“The Alpha position isn’t a given for me, Nyra,” he said, desperation tightening his tone. The words rushed out, like if he said them fast enough they might soften the damage. “My cousin Ronan is up for it too. He’ll return soon. If I act recklessly, I might lose the position.”
My breath caught. Something inside me, something tired and bruised and desperate, made a sound that might have been a sob if I’d let it out.
“Accepting your mate is acting recklessly, Kieran?” I asked.
The words tasted like blood. His face tightened.
“Nyra, it’s not...”
Footsteps cut through the garden. Light laughter. Perfume. A presence that made my spine go cold.
Chapter 6 Humiliated Under Moonlight
Nyra’s POV
Beverly appeared at the garden entrance, her dress shimmering even in the moonlight, cheeks flushed from dancing, eyes bright with victory. Charles was with her, and another girl, Gale, hovered at Beverly’s shoulder like a shadow that enjoyed being cruel. Beverly’s gaze landed on me and her smile sharpened instantly.
“What is this freak doing here?” she said, not even bothering to lower her voice.
Charles didn’t laugh. But Gale did. My whole body tensed. My hands curled, not into fists, my fingers were still too weak for that, but into tight, trembling claws of stubbornness. Kieran’s head snapped towards them. For a heartbeat, his expression was pure warning. Then he did something that tore the last thread holding my hope together. He pulled back. Not from them. From me. A half-step. A subtle shift. A physical denial, like he hadn’t been standing close to me, like he wasn’t in the middle of a conversation that mattered. Like I was nothing to him in front of witnesses.
Beverly’s eyes glittered. She saw it. Of course she did. Wolves like her always saw weakness. Always smelled it. She walked closer, heels clicking against stone, and tilted her head at me.
“Where are you going, freak?” she asked, voice dripping with mock curiosity. “Weren’t you just trying to seduce Kieran just now?” Her smile widened. “You really aim high. I must say it’s a step up from your mother’s taste in men, since she doesn’t even know who your father is.”
A few words. And suddenly I was back in the hallway, back on the floor, tasting blood while people watched. My vision blurred again. I looked at Kieran. Surely, surely he would stop this. Surely he would pull away from Beverly and tell everyone the truth. Surely he would choose me once, just once, in front of someone else.
Beverly reached Kieran and looped her arm through his like she owned him.
“Just so you know,” she said sweetly to me, “Kieran is already taken. So go dig your claws elsewhere.”
My breath stopped. I stared at the way her hand rested on his arm. I stared at the way he didn’t immediately shake her off. Kieran’s eyes were on me now, worried, tense, almost pleading. But he still didn’t speak. He still didn’t say my name. He still didn’t say, She’s mine. The silence between us screamed louder than anything Beverly could have thrown.
“Is that so?” I heard myself say.
My voice didn’t sound like me. It sounded like someone who had finally stepped outside her own body because the pain inside it had become unbearable.
Beverly laughed and nodded.
“Very.”
My heart made a small, strangled sound in my chest, like an animal dying quietly so no one would hear. I turned to leave because if I didn’t, I would break right there. Not neatly. Not silently. I would crack open in front of them and they would feast on it. But Beverly moved to block me. Gale grabbed my arm with sharp nails, her grip bruising instantly. Pain shot up my shoulder.
“I guess the beating you got yesterday wasn’t enough,” Gale said, voice delighted.
My stomach lurched.
“Stop,” Kieran’s voice cut through.
Gale didn’t listen.
“Let her go,” Kieran stepped forward, anger flaring.
Beverly lifted her brows at him.
“Why? Someone has to put the freak in her place. If not, she’ll start believing she can aim for just anyone.”
She leaned closer to him, as if they were sharing a joke. Then she looked at me, eyes narrowing.
“She should be grateful,” Beverly continued, voice rising, carrying the cruelty like a banner. “Grateful for being allowed to exist. To live in the outskirts. To have access to our markets and facilities. That is charity enough.”
Her smile turned vicious.
“She doesn’t get to aim for a mate in this pack. She doesn’t get to lay roots here. She is nothing. And the earlier she knows that, the better.”
My throat burned. I didn’t even have enough breath left to be angry. I just wanted to leave. I tried to pull away, but Gale’s claws dug deeper into my skin. A sharp sting. Warmth. I felt the first bead of blood. My body tensed, instinctively bracing for impact.
“I said stop!” Kieran’s voice sharpened.
Still Gale held on, drunk on power. And then Charles stepped in. He yanked Gale’s hand away from me with a swift, controlled movement, his eyes cold.
“That’s enough,” he said.
The words snapped through the night like a whip. Gale stumbled back, surprised. Charles glanced at Beverly.
“She’s got the message. She won’t bother anyone anymore. Let her go.”
Beverly’s eyes flicked to Kieran, studying him. Testing. Kieran’s jaw was clenched so tightly it looked like it hurt.
“I told you to let her go,” he said again, sounding annoyed now, like this was about discipline, not about me.
Beverly’s lips pursed.
“If I didn’t know better,” she said slowly, “I’d say you have a soft spot for her.”
Her eyes gleamed.
“Do you like her? Is that it?”
The garden went very quiet. Even the wind seemed to pause. My heart thudded once, hard. This was it. This was the moment. The moment where he would say no more lies. The moment where he would choose daylight. I stared at him so intensely it hurt. My body trembled with hope I didn’t want but couldn’t kill fast enough. Kieran didn’t answer. Not immediately. His silence struck me like a slap.
Then he spoke, but not the way my soul needed.
“An Alpha cares for everyone and does not discriminate,” he said, voice smooth, controlled, public. “I won’t tolerate you bullying Nyra Moonchild.”
The words made sense. They were even… honourable. And they shattered me anyway. Because he wasn’t protecting me because he loved me. He wasn’t defending me because I was his. He was defending me because it was the correct thing for an Alpha-to-be to do. Duty. Not devotion. Principle. Not claim. It broke something final inside me. I swallowed hard, forcing my lungs to work.
“Don’t worry about me, Beverly,” I said, voice shaking but steady enough to survive. “I won’t be showing my face around here anymore.”
Then I walked away. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I hated that they did, but I refused to let out a sob. I refused to give them the sound of me breaking. My steps were quick, uneven, my body aching, my heart worse. The party was mandatory. I had come. That was it. It was time to accept things the way they were. What I had with Kieran was a joke, nothing more. A lofty dream that was unattainable. Accepting the truth was the only way I would survive this.
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