Chapter 4 HER MATE

SEVEN YEARS LATER --- The Golden Moon Pack was unlike any other-beautiful, strong, full of laughter and peace.

Their lands stretched far, wide rivers sparkling under the moonlight, tall silver trees dancing in the wind, and the skies above always seemed to glow, even without the moon. People lived freely, in unity, always helping one another, always smiling.

Children ran around barefoot, laughter echoing through the trees, while warriors trained hard, their eyes glowing with pride and loyalty. They had a home. They had a purpose.

And they had an Alpha who was born to rule. Lysander. Two years had passed since he became Alpha after the death of his father. His people respected him, feared him even. They had seen his power, felt the cold aura that wrapped around him like a storm. No one dared question him. He wasn't just an Alpha-he was the Alpha, the one destined to rule over all others. That power ran through his veins, ancient and untamed. But Lysander hadn't always been here. He didn't know how he got to the Golden city. He only remembered waking up one day, surrounded by strangers who called themselves his parents. His parents-Alaric and Elira-Alpha and Luna of the Golden Moon Pack-had been searching for him since the day he was born, he suddenly disappeared , the very moment he was born. They tried tracking him using the pearl bead he wore around his wrist, a sacred object tied to his bloodline, but it never worked. Not until seven years ago when they sensed him again. The pearl had pulsed with energy, and they followed it straight to him. He remembered how his mother cried when she saw him.

How his father held him like he was something precious, something sacred. He remembered their warmth, how they never let go until he believed them-until he remembered who he was. Lysander stepped into his chamber, the door closing behind him with a soft thud. The room was quiet, too quiet.

Moonlight spilled through the tall glass windows, lighting the white and gold walls, the silver armor resting on the stand, and the long crimson cloak hanging from the chair. He moved slowly, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. He sat down, sinking into the velvet chair beside the fireplace. His eyes stared into the flame, but his mind was far away. His chest ached.

He could still see them-his foster parents. His father's stern but kind eyes. His mother's gentle smile. The way they made him feel whole. The way they made him feel... loved. He sighed, a deep, heavy sound. Then the memories twisted, turning dark, bitter.

His fists clenched on the armrest, eyes flashing with pain and anger. "I will never forgive them," he muttered to himself. "They took everything from me." A voice echoed in his head-cold, calm, and ancient. "Didn't you miss her at all? Our mate?" Magnus asked. His voice always came soft, almost like wind through ice, but it cut deep. Lysander's jaw tightened. His breath hitched. "I will never," he growled. "She shouldn't appear in front of me. Because if she ever did-if she dares-I will kill her."

His voice cracked like thunder. Magnus didn't speak for a moment, as if feeling the weight behind those words. Then he spoke again, softer this time. "Will you ever forgive her?" Lysander stood up so fast the chair scraped back across the floor. His eyes were glowing now, cold like a winter storm. "Never," he said, the word sharp, final. He turned and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. His footsteps echoed through the hallway, heavy, powerful. Servants stepped aside quickly, bowing their heads as he passed. No one dared look up.

Outside, the moon shone bright over the courtyard. Wolves moved in groups, training and laughing, but they fell silent the moment they sensed him. The air turned cold. Still. As if the land itself held its breath. Zane stood at the edge, waiting, arms crossed. His eyes were cold too, just like Lysander's. Always watching. Always ready. "You think of her again, didn't you?" Zane asked, not even turning. Lysander didn't answer. He didn't need to. Zane nodded slowly. "Then it's time, it's time to make those bastards pay before it too late, they have to pay for the death of our family" he said. . . . . --- SILVER MOON PACK Astra stood quietly by the window, watching the wind brush gently against the curtains. She looked different now-no longer the young girl with wide eyes and a hopeful heart. She had grown into a beautiful woman, her soft features more defined, her eyes carrying the weight of years she could never get back. Her hair flowed down her back like silk, and her posture, though graceful, held a quiet sadness. It had been nearly seven years since her marriage to Kieran. Seven long, cold years. She remembered their wedding night like a blur-the day had been full of smiles and blessings, yet something in her heart felt distant. The Alpha, her father, had died just a month after the ceremony. A sudden illness had taken him away. No physician could save him. Just like that, Kieran became the new Alpha. And everything changed. Kieran grew cold. Distant. At first, Astra had tried to reach him, tried to be the supportive wife the court expected her to be. But the more she tried, the further he drifted. Eventually, she stopped trying. A part of her was almost relieved-his distance gave her space to breathe. Astra looked around nervously, making sure no one was watching, before opening a small wooden door hidden behind the velvet curtain in her chamber. She stepped inside the tiny room, lit only by a thin stream of light slipping through the ceiling. In the center were small stones arranged in a careful circle-a secret shrine she had made. She knelt down, her long dress pooling around her like a whisper, and closed her eyes. "It's been seven years," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Seven years since your deaths. And I still feel like I'm carrying a part of it with me. Every day, I pray you're all resting in peace. I hope the Moon Goddess is with you alk. Watching over you all." Her voice cracked as she wiped the tears slipping down her cheeks. She placed a trembling hand over one of the stones. "And you, Lysander..." she whispered, "wherever you are, I hope you're safe. I hope you're well. I hope... one day you'll be able to forgive me." A knock on the door startled her. "Your Highness," a voice called from the other side. "The Alpha has arrived at the palace." She quickly wiped her tears and stood, taking a deep breath to steady herself. When she opened the door, the hallway was empty. Not wasting time, she started heading toward the Alpha's chambers, her footsteps echoing softly along the marble floor. But as she turned the corner, loud voices and cries stopped her in her tracks. She moved faster and soon saw a scene that made her blood run cold-two guards holding a young girl down, striking her as she struggled and cried. "What is going on here?" Astra demanded, her voice sharp. The guards immediately bowed their heads. "Your Highness," they chorused respectfully. "What are you doing with her?" she asked, walking closer. "She's an omega, but she disguised herself to work in the palace," one of the guards said. Astra blinked. "What do you mean disguised?" "She came here as a maid, but she's an omega. They're no longer allowed in the pack. The Alpha gave the order. They're supposed to work on the farms-as slaves." Astra stared at them, stunned. She hadn't known. No one told her the omegas were being treated like this. She had always known omegas were lower in the hierarchy-but slaves? Banished to the farms? And she, the Luna of the pack, had been completely unaware. "So what is her punishment?" she asked, her voice calm but dangerous. "Death," one guard answered quickly, too quickly. "For entering the palace as an omega, the penalty is death." "Please!" the girl cried out. "Please, don't kill me! My mother-she's sick. There's a plague on the farms, it's killing everyone. We begged the Alpha when he visited, but he ignored us. I had to save her. That's why I came here!" The desperation in her voice made Astra's heart twist. "The Alpha?" she asked coldly, her voice rising. She was already shaking with anger. "He knew about this?" "Yes, Your Highness." "What illness is it?" "It's a pox," another guard replied. "It spread quickly. A lot of the omegas are dying." Astra stared at them, her eyes burning. "And we have the medicine for this?" She asked. "Yes, we do. But-" "Then take it to them. Now. Gather every dose we have. Go to the farm, and feed every omega there." She cut him off. "But the Alpha-" "Did you hear me?" she snapped, cutting him off. "Go. Now. I will speak to him." The guards hesitated only for a second before lowering their heads again. "Yes, Your Highness." Astra turned to the girl, who was still sobbing. "Thank you, Your Highness," the girl cried out, her voice full of raw emotion. Astra said nothing, just gave a small nod and turned away. Her heart was boiling. She didn't know what had happened to the pack she once admired. She didn't recognize the man Kieran had become. But now, things were going to change. She couldn't stay silent anymore. Not when innocent people were dying. And not when Lysander's name still echoed in her prayers. -

Astra stormed through the stone corridors of the Alpha chambers, her footsteps echoing with determination and rising dread. She had heard the whispers-low moans, rhythmic thudding-but refused to believe the worst. Still, something gnawed at her gut. She clutched the silver crest sewn onto her cloak, the symbol of her birthright as Alpha Princess, willing herself to stay calm. But the moment her hand pushed open the double doors to Kieran's private quarters, the world tilted. She froze at the threshold, her eyes wide with disbelief. There, on the silk-covered bed carved from dark obsidian, her husband Kieran was behind a girl, thrusting into her with brutal intensity. The girl's bare breasts bounced with each movement, and her shameless moans filled the chamber like a haunting song. It was animalistic. Brazen. There was no shame in either of them-only raw, unrestrained lust. As if sensing her presence, they both stilled. Kieran turned his head lazily toward the door, strands of sweat-damp hair falling across his brow. The girl turned too, her expression devoid of embarrassment. Instead, a sly smirk painted her lips as she made no move to cover herself. "Why didn't you knock before coming in?" Kieran asked coolly, as if she'd walked in on a private conversation-not betrayal. Astra's voice cracked. "That's all you have to say when I catch you cheating on me, Kieran?" His gaze was calm, detached. "You can't blame me. We've been married for seven years, and you haven't let me touch you. You're still hung up on your loser mate." Pain twisted through Astra's chest. "That doesn't give you the right to humiliate me." The girl scoffed, flicking her hair back. "And also It's not cheating." She said. Astra blinked, trying to process. "What do you mean? He's my husband." she said. "And he's my mate," the girl snapped, voice full of disdain and pride. Astra's heart dropped. Her lips parted, but no words came. She turned slowly to Kieran, praying-begging-for a denial. He gave none. "You told me you rejected her," Astra whispered, eyes shimmering with fresh tears. "You must be stupid to think I'd reject my true mate because of you," Kieran sneered. "I have no affection for you. Never did." The girl leaned forward, propping herself on one elbow. "I was with him long before he met you. He only stayed near you because he wanted to be Alpha. You were the prize, the Alpha Princess. He used you." Each word sliced through Astra's soul like sharpened claws. Her knees weakened, but she didn't fall. Not in front of them. "So you used me," she choked, fists clenched at her sides. "I rejected my mate-for you." He shrugged, unapologetic. "Don't blame me for your stupidity. That's on you." Astra's vision blurred with tears. Her chest ached from the betrayal, from the years of sacrifice and loyalty she'd given so freely. But beneath that pain, something else stirred-an ember of rage. She swiped the tears from her cheeks and straightened her shoulders. "You may have used me," she said, voice low but steady, "but I'm still the Alpha Princess. I still have a say in this kingdom. You can roll around with your mate all you want, but you will release the Omegas. They're not your slaves, and I won't allow this cruelty to continue." Kieran laughed darkly. "You're useless here. You don't get to make decisions. You're just a figurehead. Go back to your room and keep pretending to be my wife in front of the pack."He said. Astra's eyes blazed. "I won't be your pawn anymore. I'll divorce you, and you know what that means. Without me, you lose your claim to the Alpha title. You're only Alpha because of me." His face twitched, the first sign that her words struck a nerve. She stepped forward, voice gaining strength. "Mark my words, Kieran-I will end this farce. You will no longer use my name, my title, or my pack for your gain. I'll tear down this lie you built around us, and I'll do it publicly." Then she turned on her heel and stormed out, her cloak billowing behind her like the wings of justice. Inside the room, silence hung for a moment before the girl spoke, her smugness faltering. "What is she talking about?" Kieran didn't respond at first. His jaw tightened, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. Finally, he muttered, "Don't worry. She won't succeed. I won't let her. You'll be Luna soon." The girl smiled again, but it lacked the confidence from before. . . . --- The room was cloaked in darkness, lit only by the pale moonlight filtering through the heavy curtains. Astra lay on the silk sheets, her breathing soft and even-finally finding rest after days of emotional turmoil. But the peace didn't last. Her eyes snapped open with a jolt, pupils wide with alarm.

A sharp, stabbing pain shot through her chest, making her gasp. Her hand flew to her heart as she groaned, curling onto her side in agony. The pain wasn't physical alone-it pulsed with something deeper, older, something rooted in the soul. She rolled on the bed, writhing, trying to breathe through the searing ache. Then with a thud, she tumbled off the edge and hit the cold marble floor. She clutched her chest, breath ragged. "This again," she whispered, teeth gritted. Sometimes it came like this-sudden, unbearable, like her chest was being split open. She had no name for it. No answer. Rafa, her wolf, hadn't spoken to her since the day she blocked her out in grief. Astra had tried reaching out since, but Rafa remained silent, leaving her vulnerable and empty. Something was deeply wrong, and she was beginning to fear it had everything to do with the bond she had severed-and the lies she had lived in. A sound. A faint creak... then another. Astra froze, all senses alert despite the pain. Her eyes darted toward the door. The handle jiggled-once, then again. Then came the soft scrape of something metal against the lock. Her heart skipped. They were trying to break in. A rush of panic coursed through her. She staggered to her feet and limped toward the door, peeking through the small peephole. Her breath caught. Three men, all in black, faces half-covered-but she recognized the sigils on their uniforms. Palace guards. Her heart dropped. He sent them. Kieran. Without a second thought, Astra bolted to the window. She pushed it open and climbed out, biting down a cry as the pain in her chest worsened. She dropped to the courtyard with a soft grunt and started running, bare feet slapping against the cobblestones. The night was deathly quiet-unnaturally so. The cold air stung her face, the wind pulling at her hair as she darted through narrow streets and twisting alleys of the palace's outer grounds. But behind her, footsteps thundered. They had seen her. They were chasing. She couldn't outrun them like this. Not in her human form. She pushed herself into a narrow alley and concentrated. The transformation came with a familiar wrench of her bones, the snapping and reshaping, fur rippling down her arms, face elongating into a snout. She let go of the pain just enough to shift. A pure white wolf burst from the alley, paws slamming into the earth as she tore through the darkened streets. Behind her, she heard snarls-more wolves. They had shifted too. Her lungs burned. Her heart pounded. She felt like she was drowning in fear and agony. The pain in her chest was only getting worse. Still, she ran. The chase felt endless. They were fast-faster than she remembered. But she was fueled by something more than fear. She was running for her freedom. Her life. Astra's legs finally gave out when the pain in her heart exploded like wildfire. She stumbled mid-run and collapsed, her white fur stained with dust as she skidded across the ground. She tried to get up-just one more time-but she couldn't move. The ache in her chest had become a roar, her vision fading in and out. Her limbs trembled. She could hear them behind her now. Heavy paws. Deep growls. They are getting closer. She whimpered, struggling to lift her head. They were nearly on top of her. Their snarls grew louder-she could feel their breath on her fur. Then something-or someone-grabbed her from behind. She was dragged away. Then everything went black. --- Golden Moon Pack The room was cloaked in soft moonlight, shadows dancing across the walls as Lysander slept in perfect stillness. His breathing was slow, measured, almost regal. Beside him, a girl laid with her head on his bare chest, fingers delicately tracing the contours of his muscles. A soft smile played on her lips as she followed the rise and fall of his breath. She inched closer, brushing a fingertip toward his lips, her eyes shimmering with hope. But her movement was cut short. Lysander's eyes snapped open like a wolf awakened by the scent of danger. Cold, piercing, and full of warning. The girl flinched and pulled her hand back as if burned. He stared at her for a heartbeat, then said coldly, "Why are you still here?" "I... I thought maybe you still needed me," she replied with a hopeful smile, trying to sound playful. "I don't," he said sharply, sitting up. "Get out." The smile faltered from her face. "Yes, Alpha," she murmured and scrambled off the bed, wrapping the sheet around herself as she rushed out. Lysander rose and began dressing, tugging on his shirt with force. The silence that followed was quickly broken by the voice in his head-his wolf, Magnus. "You're playing with fire, Lysander. You could hurt our mate with all this. You should stop bringing girls into your bed." Lysander didn't answer. He tightened his belt and reached for his jacket. "Don't you even consider her? The mate we've longed for?" Magnus pressed again, frustration in his tone. "I don't," Lysander snapped. "In fact, I'll be glad if she ever feels pain. I want her to suffer." There was a pause. Then Magnus gasped. "I can feel her-she's close. Somewhere nearby!" he said, voice trembling with awe and joy. "She's near, Lysander. She's finally here!" Lysander's expression turned ice cold. "Then I guess she couldn't wait to die," he muttered, and strode toward the door, slipping out into the night. --- Somewhere deep in the woods... Astra coughed softly, her lungs aching. Her eyes fluttered open as she sat up slowly, blinking away the fog in her head. Pain throbbed in her ribs, but it was faint now-like a storm that had passed but left destruction behind. As her vision cleared, she gasped and pushed herself up quickly. A figure stood nearby, watching over her. It was the girl she had helped at the palace-the one with the quiet eyes and soft voice. "You..." Astra whispered. "What are you doing here?" The girl gave her a small smile. "I saved you from the palace wolves last night. You collapsed near the old riverbank. We're far from the pack now-they won't find us here." Astra glanced around. They were in a dense forest, an abandoned wooden hut nestled between tall trees. It looked ancient, like it hadn't been used in years. The scent of pine and moss was thick in the air. "But what about you?" Astra asked. "Shouldn't you be with your family?" The girl's smile faded. "I can't go back. After the Alpha found out I was the one who told you about the omegas, he... he ordered my death." Astra's heart sank. "How old are you?" "Sixteen," the girl answered softly. Astra's eyes welled with emotion. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault." "No," the girl said firmly. "It's not your fault. You saved me. You saved my family. You saved all the omegas. I'll always be grateful-and I'll stay by your side." Astra's voice trembled. "I don't deserve your loyalty... I didn't even deserve to be-" A sudden howling cut her off. They both froze. Another howl answered, closer this time-wild, savage. Astra stood quickly, pulling the girl up. They peered through a crack in the hut's wall. A pack of rogues was approaching-seven wolves, their eyes glowing in the darkness, fur matted and stained with blood. Their movements were fast and unpredictable, weaving through the trees like shadows. "We have to move," Astra whispered. "Now." The girl's hand slipped into hers, and without another word, they took off into the trees. Their footsteps were light, but behind them, the rogues caught scent and gave chase, snarls rising in the night air like war drums. They darted through the woods, weaving around trees and ducking low branches. But the rogues were fast-too fast. Astra glanced back-two of them had split off, trying to flank them. "I need to shift!" Astra cried, voice raw. "They will outnumbers us" the girl said. "I don't have choice" she said. But just as Astra prepared to shift, the ground beneath her feet gave way slightly. She stumbled, and before she could recover, a black-furred rogue leaped toward her. She braced for impact-but it never came. A massive white wolf launched from the shadows and slammed into the rogue mid-air, teeth sinking into its throat. The rogue squealed and went limp. Astra gasped. The wolf that saved her turned toward her. His Blue, piercing and furious eyes-locked with hers. Lysander. Though she hasn't see him for seven years but she could recognize him and feel the connection.

He is her mate.