Chapter 1 The Moon Was Wrong

POV: Female Lead

The moon was wrong.

It hung too low in the sky, a pale disc split by faint fractures that shimmered like broken glass. Moonlight spilled through those cracks in uneven waves, silver and cold, touching the forest in a way that made her skin prickle. She slowed her steps, breath fogging in the night air, and pressed her palm briefly against her chest as if that could still the unease tightening there.

Nothing about this path was unfamiliar. She had walked it countless times, gathering herbs, cutting through the outer woods to save time, keeping carefully to the boundary stones that marked where her pack's territory ended.

Tonight, without deciding to, she crossed them.

The realization came only after the fact. One step past the marker. Then another. The air changed immediately, sharper, heavier, threaded with something that made her pulse stutter. Lycan land. She knew the stories. Everyone did. Lycans were not just stronger wolves. They were dominant, given flesh, kings who ruled instinct and fear as easily as breath.

She should turn back.

The thought came clear and rational, but her feet did not obey. Her body leaned forward instead, drawn by something deep and unreasoning. Her wolf stirred, restless, not in warning but in recognition, and that frightened her more than any tale she had ever heard.

"What is wrong with you?" she whispered to herself.

The forest answered with silence.

Then the scent hit her.

It was like nothing she had ever known. Cold iron and moonlight, smoke and snow, power coiled tight and restrained. It flooded her senses so violently that she staggered, fingers digging into the bark of a nearby tree to keep from falling. Her heart slammed against her ribs, too fast, too loud.

Mate.

The word did not arrive as language. It arrived as truth.

Her breath caught painfully. No. That was impossible. She was unmated, unclaimed, ordinary. And Lycans did not mate outside their kind. They certainly did not mate with wolves like her. The very idea was laughable.

Except her body did not laugh.

Her knees weakened. Heat pooled low in her belly, sharp and humiliating, completely at odds with the cold night air. Her wolf surged forward, desperate, recognizing something ancient and absolute. Fear tangled with desire until she could no longer tell them apart.

She forced herself to straighten.

Do not run toward him, she told herself. Do not chase. Do not beg.

She had learned that lesson long ago, in quieter ways. Survival did not come from throwing yourself into danger. It came from restraint.

Still, she did not flee.

Branches parted ahead, and she felt him before she saw him. The pressure of his presence rolled through the clearing like a storm front, bending the night around it. When she finally stepped into the open, the sight of him drove the breath from her lungs.

He stood at the center of the clearing as if the world had arranged itself around him. Tall, broad-shouldered, wrapped in dark clothing that seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it. Power radiated from him in controlled waves, held tight, leashed by will alone. His hair was dark, his face carved sharp and severe, and when he turned-

Silver eyes met hers.

The bond snapped into place.

It was not gentle. It did not bloom. It struck like lightning, tearing through her with a force so sudden she cried out despite herself. Her vision blurred, the world narrowing to the pull between them, to the echoing certainty that roared through her bones.

Mate. Lycan. King.

She knew it without being told. This was no ordinary Lycan. This was the one they whispered about in half-finished stories, the ruler whose command could silence entire packs. The King.

Her legs trembled, but she locked her knees and held herself upright. She would not sink to the ground. She would not make herself small.

For one suspended heartbeat, neither of them moved.

Then something flickered across his face.

It was so fast she might have imagined it if the bond had not flared in answer. Shock, yes. Recognition. And beneath that, something darker. Fear.

Not for himself.

His jaw tightened, muscles jumping along his cheek as if he were grinding his teeth. The pressure in the air spiked, then snapped back, violently restrained. She felt it like a physical blow, the sudden clamp of dominance pulled so tight it left a ringing emptiness behind.

His gaze did not soften.

If anything, it hardened.

She swallowed, throat dry, and forced her voice to remain steady. "I did not mean to cross the boundary," she said. The words felt thin in the charged air. "I will leave."

She took one careful step backward.

The bond screamed in protest.

Her wolf howled, furious and desperate, slamming against the walls she had built around herself. Heat surged through her again, sharper this time, and she bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood.

Do not run toward him. Do not beg.

He took a step forward.

The ground seemed to respond, a subtle tremor rolling through the clearing. She felt it in her bones, the weight of command carried not in words but in presence alone. Her instinct screamed at her to lower her head, to submit, to close the distance and let the bond complete itself.

She did none of those things.

Instead, she lifted her chin and met his silver gaze head-on.

Something fractured in the air between them.

For the briefest instant, the moonlight shifted, catching on her hands where they hung clenched at her sides. She did not notice the faint silver gleam that flickered there, gone as quickly as it came. She noticed only the way his eyes widened, just a fraction, before he masked it.

"You should not be here," he said.

His voice was deep, controlled, and edged with something dangerous. It was the voice of a ruler accustomed to obedience, to a world that bent when he spoke.

She nodded once. "I know."

Another heartbeat passed. Then another.

The bond pulsed, alive and furious, demanding acknowledgment. She could feel his awareness pressing against hers, testing, restrained by sheer force of will. It hurt. Not physically, but in a way that made her chest ache, as if something essential were being held just out of reach.

She realized then that this moment would divide her life into before and after.

This will change everything.

The certainty settled deep in her bones, calm and unyielding. Whatever happened next, there would be no returning to the quiet anonymity she had known. The moon above them seemed to pulse, its fractured light brightening, bearing witness.

His silver eyes locked onto hers, blazing.

And the bond ignited.