Chosen By The Moon

The moon hung low over the Nightfang stronghold, a silver orb casting shadows across the stone courtyard. Liora stood at its center, her borrowed cloak too thin against the autumn chill. Her silver hair, a mark of Selys's touch, glowed faintly, drawing whispers from the gathered pack. Wolves, human-formed but with eyes like embers, lined the walls, their gazes sharp with curiosity and distrust. She felt like prey, though the goddess had promised she was more.

Kael Nightfang stood on the dais, his broad frame silhouetted against torchlight. His dark hair fell in waves to his shoulders, and his eyes-gold flecked with storm-gray-fixed on her with an intensity that made her breath catch. He was beautiful, in the way a blade was beautiful: sharp, unyielding, dangerous. The bond, that inexplicable pull Selys had woven between them, thrummed in Liora's chest, urging her closer. But his expression was cold, a wall of ice between them.

"Speak, human," Kael said, his voice a low growl that echoed off the stones. "Why has the moon goddess sent you to my pack?"

Liora swallowed, her hands trembling at her sides. She'd practiced this moment in her mind since the druids sent her here, but words felt like sand in her mouth. "I am Liora Veyne, chosen as a Lunari by Selys. She has tasked me with uniting the packs to face a coming darkness-the Void." Her voice wavered but held, bolstered by the memory of her village burning, of the Void's creatures tearing through her home. "I am your fated mate, Alpha Kael, bound by the goddess to stand at your side."

A murmur rippled through the pack, some scoffing, others snarling. A tall woman with red hair-Sylva, Kael's beta-stepped forward, her lip curled. "A human? Selys mocks us. The Nightfangs need no frail outsider to lead us."

Liora's cheeks burned, but she held her ground. "I am no ordinary human. Selys has given me her light." She raised her hand, willing the magic to answer. A soft glow sparked at her fingertips, flickering like moonlight on water. The crowd stilled, but Kael's face darkened.

"Enough," he said, descending the dais. His boots thudded against the stone, each step closing the distance between them. The bond pulsed, a thread of warmth that made her heart ache. She wanted to reach for him, to believe the goddess's promise that they were meant to be. But his eyes held no softness, only judgment.

"You claim to be my mate," he said, stopping an arm's length away. His presence was overwhelming, all muscle and heat, the scent of pine and iron clinging to him. "You claim a destiny to lead my pack. Yet you stand here, barely able to wield your so-called gift. What proof do you offer, beyond a goddess's whim?"