Chapter 2

Celine POV

I woke to the sharp, sterile stench of rubbing alcohol and dried herbs. A blinding agony throbbed at the back of my skull. I was lying on a stiff cot in the Pack Infirmary, my vision swimming as the dim lights above flickered.

Before I could even sit up, the door banged open. Marina Blackwood, Damian's sister, stormed in, shoving past the protesting Pack Doctor.

"She's awake, the murderous bitch," Marina spat, her eyes flashing with pure hatred. "Kacie is dying because of you, Celine. But you're going to fix it."

I tried to speak, but my throat was raw. "I didn't... she threw herself-"

"Save your lies!" Marina snarled. "Kacie's injuries are catastrophic. The only way to save her is an ancient blood-ritual. We need the heart-blood of the Alpha's Fated Mate."

My blood ran cold. A blood sacrifice? To drain a mate's life force for an Omega was the ultimate desecration of the sacred Mate-bond. It was a curse upon the soul.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the hall. Damian stepped into the room, his suffocating scent of pine and leather filling the space. He didn't even look at me. His jaw was set in stone.

"Damian," I rasped, tears pricking my eyes. "You can't let her do this. It will destroy our bond."

"Do it," Damian commanded coldly, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Two burly Warriors stepped forward, grabbing my arms. Through our frayed bond, I could feel his Inner Wolf howling in absolute agony, clawing at Damian's mind to protect me. But Damian ruthlessly crushed the beast down with his Alpha will.

He was going to let them bleed me dry for her.

The last fragile thread of hope in my heart snapped. The Mate-bond withered into ash. And in that absolute, suffocating despair, something deep within my soul-something that had been dormant for my entire wolfless life-snapped awake.

An unfamiliar, icy power surged through my veins. It wasn't just a wolf; it felt ancient, pure, and overwhelmingly dominant.

With a sudden, unnatural strength, I ripped my arms free, sending the two massive Warriors crashing into the medical cabinets. I didn't wait for their shock to fade. I bolted out the door, sprinting down the stone corridor toward the Ritual Chamber.

I burst through the heavy oak doors. The chamber was dimly lit by torches, casting shadows over the flat stone altar in the center.

Kacie was lying there in a pristine white robe. She didn't look like a dying woman. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing steady.

Damian and Marina rushed into the room right behind me, but I was already moving. I marched straight up to the altar. Kacie's eyes snapped open in feigned terror.

*Smack!*

I slapped her across the face with every ounce of strength I had. The sharp sound echoed off the stone walls. Before anyone could react, I grabbed the thick bandages wrapped around her torso and ripped them away.

There was no blood. No shattered ribs. Just smooth skin and a few faint, yellowish bruises.

A dead silence fell over the room.

Damian froze, his glowing gold eyes widening in absolute horror as he stared at Kacie's unblemished skin. The realization of her deceit hit him like a physical blow.

"A miracle recovery?" I mocked, my voice dripping with venom.

"N-no!" Kacie stammered, scrambling backward on the altar, her innocent facade crumbling. "Damian, I swear! The Pack Doctor told me I was bleeding internally! He misdiagnosed me! But she still pushed me!"

Damian didn't look at her. He slowly turned to me, his face pale, his eyes swimming with a sudden, desperate regret. "Celine... I..." He took a step forward, reaching out. "I will find out the truth. I'll make this right."

I looked at the man the Moon Goddess had made for me, feeling absolutely nothing but a hollow void.

"It's too late, Damian," I said, my voice eerily calm. I stood tall, letting the ancient power hum beneath my skin. "I, Celine Moon, reject you, Damian Blackwood, as my mate."

The words struck like lightning. Damian let out a choked, agonizing gasp. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the cold stone floor, clutching his chest as the magical backlash tore his soul in half.

The adrenaline suddenly vanished, leaving me hollow. My vision darkened, and I felt myself falling backward.

But I didn't hit the ground.

The heavy doors of the chamber shattered inward. A towering figure caught me effortlessly. The scent of winter snow and familiar bloodline wrapped around me like a shield.

"I've got you, Celine," Gustave Moon, the Gamma of the Silver Crescent Pack, rumbled, his eyes locked on the broken Alpha on the floor.