"Listen very keenly because I do not want to repeat these disgusting words ever again!" Alpha Kieran growls, his voice cutting through the crisp night air like a blade.
The Lunar Crest Pack stands in silence, heads slightly bowed as the weight of his authority presses down on them.
The forest clearing is bathed in pale moonlight, the solemn faces of the wolves reflecting unease.
His silver eyes gleam, as sharp and cold as his words.
"We are wolves, bound by the Moon Goddess's law. Mates are sacred. They are the foundation of our strength, chosen by the Goddess herself. Never has she paired man with man or woman with woman. Such unions are unnatural.
I personally will not allow that in my pack! I will not let this pack weaken because of such disgrace!"
A ripple of unease moves through the crowd—subtle shifts of feet, glances exchanged—but no one dares to speak.
Kieran's tone sharpens, his dominance crackling like a whip. "If you are responsible for the rumors spreading in this pack, stop it. Now. Stop the nonsense, and find your real mate—the one the Goddess has destined for you! I will not tolerate shame brought upon this pack!"
He scans the faces before him, his sharp gaze daring anyone to defy him. He finds none.
Good.
Without another word, he turns abruptly, his cloak billowing behind him as he strides into the darkness, leaving his pack under the watchful gaze of the moon.
The forest closes in around him, the dense trees muffling the murmurs of his pack.
Kieran's wolf stirs restlessly, its frustration a constant, gnawing presence.
"You didn't need to go that far," the wolf growls, its voice a low rumble in his mind.
"Yes, I did," Kieran snaps back, his voice harsh, even in the solitude of his thoughts.
His distress for the rumours in his pack about men paring up with men and women with women as mates__ is adding to his distress of not finding his own mate.
For nine years. Nine long years of searching for his mate since his first shift at eighteen.
He has chased every lead, met countless she-wolves, only to walk away empty-handed every time.
Each failure chips away at his patience, his pride, and his belief that the Moon Goddess hasn't forsaken him.
His failures have become whispers in the pack—murmurs that he is unworthy, that the Goddess has rejected him.
And with the next mating season fast approaching, the whispers have turned into doubts.
If he doesn't find his mate soon, the elders will see it as a sign of weakness and demand his removal.
The thought makes his fists clench. His claws dig into his palms, and his wolf bristles with shared anger.
"They doubt us," his wolf snarls.
"Let them," Kieran replies, though the words feel hollow.
Without his mate, his position as alpha hangs by a thread.
And without his leadership, the pack would fall to rivals or rogues. He cannot let that happen.
East Hollow, a quiet human town on the edge of pack territory, glimmers faintly under the soft glow of street lamps.
Kieran often comes here when the weight of leadership becomes too much.
The mingling scents of humans and asphalt, the hum of distant conversations—it dulls the ache in his chest, if only for a while.
Tonight, though, nothing soothes him.
His wolf prowls within him, restless and irritated, a reflection of his turmoil.
Then, it happens.
A scent cuts through the air, sharp and sweet, like honey and cedar, but layered with something deeper—wild, primal, and magnetic.
It's unlike anything he's ever known.
His steps falter, his entire body locking up as though the earth itself has stopped turning.
His wolf stills, and for a moment, there is silence.
Then, a triumphant howl shatters the quiet within him.
Mate!
Kieran's heart slams against his ribs, a thunderous beat that drowns out everything else.
His breath catches, his lungs refusing to work properly.
The scent surrounds him, seeps into his very core, pulling him forward as if it's woven into the fabric of his existence.
Each step feels like a surrender, like slipping further into something he can't control.
His senses sharpen—too sharp—and the world narrows to that intoxicating scent.
He rounds the corner, and the world tilts on its axis.
And there he is.
There's no one else there expect for him.
For some reason Kiearan looks around as if searching for a woman who is supposed to be his mate, the woman who has pulled him here with the signs of a mate.
But no, there's no one else but a boy, sitting on a park bench outside a small café, his head bent over a sketchpad.
And everything in Kieran screams that it's him, his mate!
The golden light spilling from the café halos the boy's dark hair, highlighting the soft curve of his jaw and the slight furrow of his brow.
His features are sharp yet gentle, almost ethereal, and there's something achingly familiar about him, though Kieran knows he's never seen him before.
Kieran's wolf surges again, its voice raw and insistent.
Mate. He's ours.
The bond hits Kieran like a tidal wave, flooding him with sensations he can't process.
Warmth spreads through his chest, pooling low in his stomach, and for a moment, he can't move, can't think.
"No," he mutters, his voice cracking. His body trembles under the weight of the bond, his wolf's certainty battering against his fragile denial.
But his wolf doesn't relent.
Look at him. Feel it. You know it's true.
Kieran does feel it.
The connection hums in the air, a silent thread tying him to the boy. It's unyielding, undeniable. Every instinct in him screams to move closer, to touch him, to claim him.
The boy lifts his head, and their eyes meet.
Hazel. Bright and piercing, they lock onto Kieran with an intensity that steals what little breath he has left.
Time stretches, everything else fading away.
Mate.
His wolf whispers again, almost reverent now.
But all Kieran can think is, This can't be happening.
The boy__ Ace Carter_ feels it too, warmth in his chest lingers, persistent and unyielding, leaving him uneasy as his eyes are still locked in this stranger's , but he doesn't know what is happening,,,
"Can I help you?" Ace asks, his voice tentative but steady.
Kieran doesn't answer.
His wolf growls, urging him to move closer, to speak, to claim. But Kieran stands frozen, trapped between the undeniable truth and his refusal to believe it.
He turns abruptly and walks away, his steps hurried, his mind a whirlwind of disbelief and anger.
The forest is a blur as Kieran storms back to pack lands, his wolf snapping and snarling inside him.
"This isn't possible," he growls, his voice harsh. "He's male!"
His wolf growls back, furious. He is ours. The Moon Goddess has chosen.
"No," Kieran snaps. "She wouldn't. This is a mistake!" His hands tremble as he grips a nearby tree, claws gouging the bark.
The whispers of the pack, the weight of his position, the pressure of the mating season, the male mate—it all crashes down on him.
If anyone finds out, he'll lose everything: his authority, his reputation, his place as alpha.
But worst of all, he'll lose himself.
"I cannot let this happen! Not to me! Not to my pack!" He growls.