Aria
They didn’t invite me.
Ryle announced the grand feast three nights ago. “Allied Alphas, old bloodlines, new bonds,” he said, standing at the head of the war table like a king, his voice ringing with pride. “Blue Stone will rise again.”
And yet—no seat for me. No name on the parchment menus. No mention of Luna Aria Thornwyn.
Because to him, I wasn’t Luna anymore. Just a complication. An embarrassment.
I heard the music from my window. Laughter spilling from the great hall. The scent of roasted boar and honeyed wine drifted up to the Luna suite where I sat alone, dressed in silence.
I should’ve gotten used to it by now. The exclusion. Pretending I didn’t exist. But tonight it burned worse.
I stepped onto the balcony.
The courtyard below was lit with lanterns that floated like stars in bowls of golden light. Wolves from every pack circled the long banquet table, their voices loud, their glasses full.
And at the center of it all—him.
Matthew.
He sat tall beside Selene, her silver dress shimmering with every breath she took. She laughed easily, leaning into him like they’d been carved from the same stone. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t move away.
He didn’t even look up. Not once. Not toward the balcony where I stood watching. Where his mate stood—unclaimed by title, bound by fate.
My chest tightened, rage and heartbreak collided beneath my ribs. Every part of me screamed to run. But where? And to who?
“Watching him betray you in real time,” a voice said from behind me, “must be a special kind of hell.”
I turned sharply. Elias.
He stood just inside my room, the moonlight catching in his eyes, his jaw clenched, his body coiled with fury.
“He’ll let them erase you,” he said, stepping closer, “as long as it keeps him in line with his father. But I won’t.”
His words shook something in me. Something small. Something buried.
He pulled something from his pocket and slid it onto the bed—a folded note.
“If you want out,” he said, voice low, “meet me. Midnight. North border. One chance.”
He didn’t wait for my answer. He didn’t touch me. He just left the room with the quiet of someone who meant every word.
I stared at the note. Midnight. North border. One chance.
I read it five times. Then I stuffed it under my pillow, like it would burn a hole in my fingers.
The feast echoed deep into the night.
I paced the room for hours, heart pounding, mind spinning. Maybe I should go. Maybe Elias was right. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be someone’s secret or shame.
I began to pack.
Only the essentials. The dagger Cedric once gave me. My mother’s shawl. A simple pair of boots. My hands shook as I shoved things into a small satchel, the silence screaming louder with every item I packed.
And then, I froze. The door creaked open.
Matthew stood in the frame, half-shadowed by firelight from the hallway. His shirt was open at the collar, the mark of the Alpha crest still gleaming at his throat. His hair was tousled like he’d been running his fingers through it, and his eyes…
Cold. Controlled. Empty. “Going somewhere?” he asked.
I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. “Just—air.”
He stepped into the room. “Dressed like that? With a bag?”
I didn’t answer.
“Careful,” he said, closing the door behind him. “You’re starting to look like you’re leaving.”
I turned away. “Why would you care?”
“I don’t,” he replied sharply. “But you still carry my mark. And that comes with rules.”
“Rules?” I snapped. “Like watching you sit next to her while I rot in this room?”
His jaw tightened. “That’s politics.”
“I’m your mate!” I yelled, my voice finally breaking. “Or does that only matter when it’s convenient for you?”
He stepped closer, slow and heavy. “You still carry my mark,” he said again, low and hard. “Don’t forget what happens if I revoke it.”
A chill ran down my spine. I stared at him, horror blooming in my chest. “You wouldn’t.”
“Would I?” he asked, tilting his head.
The bond between us, once faint and flickering, suddenly surged. My mark—it burned. Hot. Angry.
I gasped, clutching my neck. The skin around the mark glowed—a violent, blistering silver. The room lit with it, a pulse of wild, sacred energy tearing through the air.
Matthew stumbled back. The mark flared brighter, heat radiating from it like a wildfire.
It was rejecting him.