I was sixteen when my future was announced.
Not suggested.
Not discussed.
Announced.
The Great Hall of Ironfang was filled that night—elders seated in a half-circle, warriors standing like silent statues, and the scent of authority thick enough to choke on. The torches along the stone walls burned steadily, their flames unmoving, as if even the fire understood this was not a moment to flicker.
I stood beside my father, hands folded neatly in front of me, my face calm, unreadable.
I had practiced that expression for years.
“You will stand still. You will not speak unless spoken to. You will not embarrass this family.”
His words echoed in my head even before he spoke them aloud.
Then the eldest of the council rose.
His voice carried across the hall without effort.
“By the law of blood and moon, we honor the bond sealed years ago. The daughter of Alpha Theron of Ironfang.”
A pause.
A deliberate one.
“.... will be joined to Alpha Ronan, heir of the Northern Throne, on the next Blood Moon.”
Silence followed.
Not the kind filled with shock.
The kind filled with agreement.
Approval.
Finality.
It was done.
Just like that.
I did not react.
Not when the elders nodded.
Not when the low murmurs of satisfaction spread through the hall.
Not even when I felt it—the weight of someone’s gaze settling on me like a claim already made.
I didn’t need to look to know it was him.
Alpha Ronan.
The man I had been promised to since I was a child too young to understand what “promise” meant.
Slowly, I lifted my eyes.
And there he was.
Watching me.
Not like a man looks at a woman.
But like a man looks at something that already belongs to him.
Measured.
Certain.
Possessive.
My chest tightened—but I didn’t let it show.
Because in Ironfang, weakness is remembered longer than strength.
“Come,” my father’s voice was low, controlled.
I obeyed instantly.
Of course I did.
I always did.
That was how I survived here.
The ceremony ended as all things in Ironfang did—with order.
With control.
With no room for emotion.
But the moment I stepped outside the hall, the night air hit me differently.
Cool.
Sharp.
Almost… suffocating.
I inhaled slowly, trying to steady something I refused to name.
This was my life.
This had always been my life.
So why did it suddenly feel like a cage I couldn’t breathe inside?
“Selene.”
I froze.
Only one person called me like that—with authority wrapped in expectation.
I turned.
My father stood a few steps behind me, his expression unreadable.
“You will begin preparation immediately,” he said. “There will be no distractions. No unnecessary movements beyond the territory.”
“I understand,” I replied softly.
His eyes lingered on me for a second longer, as if searching for resistance.
He found none.
He never did.
With a single nod, he turned and walked away.
And just like that, I was alone.
Or so I thought.
The wind shifted.
Subtle.
Almost unnoticeable.
But it carried something with it.
A scent.
Wild.
Unfamiliar.
And completely out of place.
My breath caught.
It wasn’t from Ironfang.
It wasn’t from anyone I had ever known.
It was… something else.
Something that made my skin prickle and my chest tighten in a way that didn’t feel like fear.
But wasn’t calm either.
I frowned slightly, stepping forward without thinking.
The scent drifted again.
Fainter this time.
Like it was pulling away.
Or calling me closer.
I shouldn’t have followed it.
Every rule I had ever been taught told me to go back inside.
To stay within the walls.
To remain where I belonged.
But my feet moved anyway.
Slow at first.
Then faster.
Past the gates.
Beyond the guards.
And into the edge of the forest.
The deeper I went, the quieter it became.
No voices.
No footsteps.
Just the sound of my own breathing… and that scent.
Stronger now.
Closer.
Alive.
I stopped abruptly.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Because suddenly,
I wasn’t alone.
He stepped out from between the trees like he had always been there.
Waiting.
Watching.
Tall.
Still.
Dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with weapons.
Our eyes met.
And everything inside me shifted.
Not fear.
Not panic.
Something deeper.
Something that made my wolf stir for the first time in my life.
A sharp, overwhelming awareness that spread through my chest like fire.
And then—
A whisper.
Clear.
Unmistakable.
Mate.
My breath hitched.
No.
That wasn’t possible.
It couldn’t be.
Because the man standing in front of me…
Did not belong to Ironfang.
I could feel it.
In his scent.
In his presence.
In the way the air itself seemed to tighten around him.
“You’re far from where you should be,” he said.
His voice was low.
Controlled.
But it wrapped around me in a way that made it hard to think.
I swallowed, forcing myself to hold his gaze.
“I could say the same to you.”
A flicker of something crossed his eyes.
Interest.
Surprise.
Something darker.
He took a step closer.
And my body betrayed me.
I didn’t step back.
“Do you know who you’re standing in front of?” he asked.
I should have said no.
I should have turned around.
I should have run.
Instead…
I shook my head slowly.
His gaze dropped briefly—just enough to take me in—before returning to my eyes.
And when he spoke again, there was something in his voice that made my pulse stutter.
“Good.”
Another step closer.
Close enough now that I could feel the heat of him.
The pull.
The danger.
“Because if you did…”
His voice lowered.
“…you would have run already.”
And maybe I should have.
Maybe I should have remembered who I was.
Who I belonged to.
The life waiting for me.
The man I was meant to marry.
But in that moment…
Standing in front of a stranger I knew I shouldn’t want.
I realized something terrifying.
I didn’t want to run.
Because deep down…
I already knew.
This man,
Was going to ruin everything.