Chapter 3 DEEP IN SHAME

Gwen didn't sleep much after the Blood Moon Gathering. Her mind kept replaying it all; the look in logan's eyes, his gaze locking to hers with unmistakable acknowledgment. And then, in an instant, how he turned his back, as if the bond between them meant nothing. As if she herself was nothing. Her chest ached, her wolf silent and wounded deep inside her. She had spent her whole life dreaming of her mate, of the one person meant to love and cherish her unconditionally. Fate had finally answered her prayers, only to rip away her one chance at happiness.

But even as the morning sun rose, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, she clung to a shred of hope. Logan hadn't spoken to her yet. He hadn't formally rejected her. Maybe, just maybe he was in denial. Maybe he needed time to process the bond. She managed to convince herself that all she needed was to talk to him.

She was wrong.

By midday, a meeting had been called. The whole of Whiteclaw Pack was to go to the great hall, situated at the heart of the entire territory-one huge stone building for such great needs. Gatherings like these happened never but either in a council of war or in any greater announcement of high importance, all tense into silence. Gwen came right up to the rear of the back and, save for hushed murmurs whispered around, to herself stood out. Trying to pay it no mind seemed impossible.

"They say the Alpha is going to address the mate bond."

"He's going to reject her."

"Of course he is. She's nothing."

Gwen swallowed hard, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She scanned the room until her gaze landed on him.

Logan stood at the front, his face unreadable. He was every inch the mighty Alpha; strong, composed, commanding. He wore his authority like a second skin, and even now, surrounded by Whiteclaw's Elders and warriors, he held complete control over the room.

Her heart pounded as she waited for him to acknowledge her. To say something.

He didn't.

Instead, he turned to face them, and at the front, the Whiteclaw Alpha stared back-a middle-aged man whose graying hair was slicked back, sharp eyes glinting in his head.

"Thank you for gathering everyone on such short notice," logan began, that deep voice vibrating down her spine. "There is something which needs to be addressed before I return to my pack."

Complete silence fell.

Gwen sucked in a hard breath.

"This pertains to the mate bond," logan finally said, and for one fleeting instant, hope danced in her chest.

Perhaps he would accept her. Perhaps...

"I, Alpha smoke Logan of the Nightfang Pack, reject Gwen stark as my mate."

The words pierced her heart like a knife.

The room collectively gasped. Gwen's breath hitched, her entire body locking up as the bond inside her shattered. No. No, this couldn't be happening. She had expected hesitation. Denial. Maybe even avoidance. But this? this public rejection, in front of everyone, was more than just a refusal. It was humiliation.

"She is weak," Logan declared, his golden eyes cold and unfeeling. "She is unfit to stand beside me as the Luna of my pack. I will not claim a mate who cannot even hold her own among her own people.

She was groundless, the earth ripped from beneath her feet. It wasn't rejection. It was an execution.

The pack rumbled a unanimous agreement, their condemning gazes falling upon her.

"She's never been strong enough."

"What can destiny be thinking, pairing her with him?"

"She's a shame."

Gwen tried to speak-to fight back, but nothing came out. The bond within her wailed in agony, tearing at the seams. Her wolf whimpered, curling into itself, unable to bear the pain of the rejection. The weight of the pack's scorn smothered her. She turned to the Whiteclaw Alpha, hoping, praying, that he would say something, that he would defend her.

He didn't.

Instead, his expression hardened. "Then it is settled. The bond has been severed.

The finality in that sentence sent another wave of devastation crashing over her. She had lost everything. Logan turned away, as if she was nothing. As if she had never meant anything at all.

But the worst was yet to come.

"Gwen" the Alpha of the Whiteclaw called out, his voice well loud enough for all to hear. "You have been rejected by your mate and deemed unworthy of the title of Luna. As you have no other rank within this pack, and no contribution of value..." He paused.

Gwen already knew what would come out of his mouth next.

"You are hereby cast out from the Whiteclaw Pack."

The words rang in her ears, dull and suffocating. Exile. She wasn't being rejected; she was being erased. Trembling, she shook her head, finding her voice. "Please-"

"Silence."

Her throat closed.

"You have until sunset to leave our lands," the Alpha said, "after which time you'll be considered a rogue. If you're found trespassing... you'll be dealt with accordingly."

Gwen felt like she was drowning.

One moment, she had been part of the pack, even if they had barely acknowledged her. Now, she was nothing.

Logan hadn't just rejected her, he had destroyed her. And he hadn't even flinched.

She made herself look at him one last time, searching for anything, any sign of regret, of hesitation, of pain. But his face was blank. Cold. Unmoved. The bond was dead. And so was the life she had once known.

Gwen didn't stay to hear the rest. She turned and ran. By the time she reached her small home on the outskirts of the territory, her hands were shaking so badly she could barely pack her belongings. There wasn't much. A few clothes. Some herbs she had gathered. A single book she had managed to keep over the years. It didn't matter. She wasn't coming back. She stepped out into the falling sun, feeling it on her skin. It was done.

Her wolf screamed in agony within her, and she swallowed that pain down inside. She wouldn't break. Not here, Not now, and so without looking back Freya stepped over the borders of Whiteclaw. The final strand of the bond snapped at the very instant she crossed the boundary. A sharp, searing pain tore through her chest, stealing the breath from her lungs. She dropped to her knees, clutching at her heart as if she could physically hold it together.

Her mate was gone. Her pack was gone. Her entire life was gone. And yet... As she sat there, alone beneath the darkening sky, a new emotion stirred deep within her. Not grief. Not sadness.

Rage. They had cast her aside as if she were nothing. He had shamed her in front of all, had ripped her heart from her chest and left her to rot. But she would not rot. She would rise. The Whiteclaw Pack had turned its back on her. Logan had rejected her.

And one day...

They would regret it.