The wolfsbane burns in my pocket like a promise.

I have carried it for three years, ever since the third rejection. Ever since I watched Alpha Marcus convulse on the marble floor of his pack house, silver foam bubbling from his lips as the curse consumed him from the inside out. He had rejected me in front of his entire pack, called me a worthless human pretender, and then he had twenty-nine days to regret it.

He used every single one of them begging me to accept the bond.

I let him die anyway.

Some would call that murder. I call it mercy. Better a quick death by wolfsbane than thirty days of slow agony as the Moon Goddess extracts her price for breaking what she has bound.

The Shadow fang Pack territory smells like pine and impending doom.

I should not be here. I should have run the moment I felt the pull westward, that sick twist in my gut that signals another mate bond forming like a noose around my throat. But the Moon Temple is somewhere in these mountains and I am done running from fate. I will find it. I will break this curse. And I will finally be free.

Even if I have to walk through hell to get there.

The pack house looms ahead, all dark wood and sharp angles, built into the mountain like a fortress. Wolves patrol the perimeter, their eyes tracking me with predatory focus. They can smell that I am not one of them. Human raised. Packless. Other.

They have no idea how right they are.

The doors swing open before I reach them and he is there.

Kael Ashford.

The air punches out of my lungs.

I have seen Alphas before. Powerful ones. Brutal ones. Men who could command armies with a glance and break spines with their bare hands. But Kael Ashford is something different. Something darker. He stands at the top of the stairs like a king surveying his kingdom, all brutal angles and cold authority. Black hair. Sharp jaw. Eyes like liquid amber that see straight through skin and bone into the rotten core of a person.

Those eyes lock onto mine and the world fractures.

The mate bond slams into me like a freight train. Silver fire races through my veins, burning away everything except the overwhelming, undeniable pull toward him. My wolf, dormant for twenty-one years, suddenly claws at the inside of my chest, howling for her mate.

No. No no no no.

This cannot be happening again.

Kael goes absolutely still. His nostrils flare. His hands curl into fists at his sides and I watch the exact moment he feels it too. The bond. The connection. The fate neither of us asked for.

And then I watch his face twist with pure, unadulterated disgust.

He descends the stairs slowly, deliberately, each step measured. The wolves around us have gone silent. Even the wind seems to hold its breath. By the time he reaches me, his expression has settled into something cold and lethal.

"No," he says simply.

My heart is a war drum. "Excuse me?"

"You are not my mate." His voice is Arctic ice. "You cannot be my mate. I am Alpha of the Shadow fang Pack. My bloodline is pure, unbroken for six generations. I will not bind myself to some reckless nobody who reeks of human weakness."

There it is. The same speech with different words. They always say the same things. Too weak. Too human. Too worthless. As if I do not already know.

"Then reject me." The words taste like ash. "Say the words and let me go."

Something flickers in his eyes. Surprise maybe. He probably expected me to beg. They always expect begging.

"I, Kael Ashford, Alpha of the Shadow fang Pack, reject—"

"STOP."

The voice cracks through the air like a whip. An elderly woman appears in the doorway, moving faster than should be possible for someone who looks like she has lived a thousand years. Her eyes are milky white, blind, but they fix on me with perfect accuracy.

"Grandmother, stay out of this." Kael does not look away from me.

"You will not speak another word." She descends the stairs with grim purpose. "Do you know who this is?"

"I do not care who—"

"She is the Mourning Mate." The old woman's voice drops to something ancient and terrible. "Three Alphas have tried to reject her. All three are dead."

The temperature drops ten degrees.

Kael's eyes narrow. "That is impossible. The Mourning Mate is a myth. A story to scare young wolves."

"Look at her neck."

I do not move fast enough. Kael's hand shoots out and yanks down the collar of my jacket, exposing the silver curse marks spiraling up my throat. They pulse with faint light in the shadows, alive and hungry.

He releases me like I have burned him.

"The curse is real," his grandmother continues. "Reject her and you will die within thirty days. There are no exceptions. There is no cure. Three Alphas learned this truth too late."

The wolves around us explode into chaos. Whispers. Gasps. Someone actually whimpers.

Kael stands frozen, his jaw clenched so tight I can hear his teeth grinding. He looks at me like I am a snake that has wandered into his den. "You came here knowing what would happen."

"I came here for the Moon Temple." My voice is steadier than I feel. "I do not want this bond any more than you do. Help me find the temple. Help me break the curse. Then you never have to see me again."

"And if the curse cannot be broken?"

I meet his burning gaze without flinching. "Then I suggest you learn to tolerate me very quickly, Alpha. Because I will not accept a bond with a man who looks at me like I am garbage."

"Then we are both trapped."

"So it seems."

Kael stares at me for a long, terrible moment. Then he turns on his heel and walks away, his voice echoing back like a death sentence.

"Lock her in the east wing. Post guards. If she tries to leave, break her legs."

The wolves close in around me and I let them. Because Kael Ashford just made a critical mistake.

He thinks I am trapped here with him.

He has no idea that he is trapped here with me.