Chapter 2 The Night of Scars

"Aria! Wake up!"

Her best friend's voice pierced the fog of her restless sleep, dragging her from a nightmare that was never just a dream. Elora's urgency carried through the wooden walls of the chamber, sharp and insistent, like claws scraping against her heart.

Aria's eyes snapped open, sweat dripping down her brow. Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, her throat tight, her body trembling. For a moment she didn't know where she was still trapped beneath the phantom weight pressing her into the earth, still suffocated by the memory of human scent and pain that branded her skin.

The nightmare clung to her like tar, heavy and suffocating.

No... stop. Stop thinking about it. Stop.

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes until sparks of light flared in the darkness behind her lids. She willed her mind to silence, but the memories laughed in her face.

"Elora," she croaked, her voice cracked and rough. "I'm coming."

Forcing her limbs to obey, she dragged herself from bed. Her legs trembled as if she had been running for miles, her shoulders heavy as if she carried the weight of the whole pack already. Her heart ached worse than her body, each beat echoing with dread.

Because today was supposed to be the beginning of her triumph.

Her eighteenth birthday.

The day her wolf would awaken.

And yet all she felt was fear.

The Silverfang Pack was alive with activity when Aria stepped out into the crisp morning air. The pack grounds swarmed with wolves, both young and old, preparing for the great Moon Ceremony. Tents were raised, fires kindled, offerings arranged before the sacred altar stone that lay at the heart of the clearing. Wolves from neighboring villages had traveled far and wide to witness what would unfold tonight.

Whispers drifted through the air like smoke from a smoldering fire. They clung to Aria as she moved, crawling across her skin, seeping into her bones.

"There goes the girl who thinks she can be Alpha."

"She will fail. A female can never lead."

"She's too soft, too fragile. She doesn't have the strength."

"Did you hear? Someone saw her sneaking in last night dirty, torn clothes, hair tangled..."

Aria's fists clenched at her sides. Her nails dug into her palms so deeply that warm blood beaded against her skin, a silent reminder of her pain. She kept her head high, her face a mask of cold defiance, but inside she was crumbling.

They don't know.

They will never know.

If they find out a human touched me if they know the truth I'll be an outcast before my wolf even awakens.

"Elora."

The voice slithered across the air, smooth as silk and sharp as steel. Elder Byron.

Aria froze as the old man approached. His long white hair gleamed like frost under the sun, his back straight as though age had never bent him. But it was his eyes cold, silver, unyielding that pierced her. Eyes that held no warmth for her.

"The Alpha awaits," he said, his tone clipped. "Do not make him wait."

"Yes, Elder," Aria murmured, bowing her head in respect.

But as she walked past him, his voice dropped to a whisper, low enough that only she could hear.

"Unfit. Cursed. Marked."

Her chest tightened. The words sank like poison into her veins. Rage flared hot and wild in her belly, but she bit her tongue until she tasted blood. How dare he? How dare he utter such venom when he knew nothing? And yet... her wrist burned faintly under her sleeve, the crest mark mocking her in silence.

Dusk bled across the sky, painting the horizon in streaks of crimson and gold before the shadows of night swallowed the world. The pack gathered in the sacred clearing, circling the great stone altar at the center. Torches lined the perimeter, their flames flickering and twisting, shadows leaping like restless spirits.

The air was thick with anticipation, humming with the weight of tradition and the promise of power. Chants rose, low and steady, weaving through the clearing like a living thing. Wolves knelt in unison, their voices joining together in reverence, their howls lifting toward the heavens in a song for the Moon Goddess.

At the front stood Alpha Mason, tall and unyielding, his presence commanding silence without effort. His dark hair was streaked with silver now, his face weathered by grief and battles, but his voice still carried the thunder of an Alpha.

"Tonight," he proclaimed, his deep voice rolling over the crowd, "my daughter Aria will stand before the Moon Goddess. If she is found worthy, her wolf will awaken, and she will claim her place as heir of Silverfang Pack."

Gasps rippled through the crowd like wind through dry leaves. A female heir? A female Alpha? Madness. Impossible. And yet none dared speak against their Alpha in public, not when his gaze burned with such fire.

Still, Aria felt their eyes pierce her. She read the doubt in their stares, the disgust in their curled lips, the whispers that hissed like venom just beyond her hearing.

She swallowed hard, stepping forward. Her heart hammered so loudly she was certain the Goddess herself could hear. She tilted her face toward the silver orb above, letting the moonlight wash over her.

Please, Moon Goddess. Do not forsake me. Do not let me fail. Not because of that night. Not because of him.

For one endless heartbeat nothing.

Panic clawed at her throat. Whispers rose around her, sharp and cruel.

And then it came.

The fire. The pain. The transformation.

Her bones cracked and reformed, her muscles stretched and coiled, her blood boiled with divine energy. A scream tore from her throat, raw and primal, as silver fur burst across her body, glistening under the moonlight.

Her nails lengthened into claws, her teeth sharpened into fangs, and when she roared, the sound shook the very ground beneath her.

Her wolf had awakened.

But she was not like the others.

The crowd gasped, not in awe alone, but in fear. Her fur did not simply shimmer silver it glowed. Streaks of blinding white light laced through her coat, glowing brighter with every breath. She was radiant, divine, otherworldly.

Unnatural.

Dangerous.

"Impossible," someone whispered.

"Look at her-look at that mark!"

"She's cursed."

"The Moon Goddess rejects her!"

The words struck like knives, but Aria's wolf snarled, her silver eyes glowing with fury. Pride pulsed through her veins, wild and defiant. For the first time, Aria felt whole. Powerful. Unstoppable. She wanted to laugh in their faces, to show them she was more than worthy, that she was chosen.

But then she saw it.

The mark.

Her wrist glowed with the crest, burning brighter under the moonlight, impossible to hide.

Her wolf snapped inside her chest, hackles raised, every nerve screaming the same word again and again:

Last night. Last night. Human. Human. Human.

The vision of his shadow pressed against her burned into her skull. She staggered back, pain lancing through her as the shift broke, her body tearing itself apart as she collapsed back into her human form. Naked. Trembling. Small.

The night air stung her skin, cruel and cold. But it was nothing compared to the icy terror in her heart.

Her eyes locked on the crest etched into her skin. It pulsed faintly, a living brand, proof of what had been done to her.

How do I explain this?

Will they cast me out?

Will Father turn his back on me?

Am I already ruined?

"Explain!"

Her father's voice lashed across the clearing like a whip.

Aria flinched. She lifted her gaze to him and wished she hadn't. Alpha Mason's face was carved from stone, his jaw clenched, his eyes colder than she had ever seen them. For the first time in her life, she wasn't sure if she saw love there at all.

The pack held its breath, waiting, their stares searing into her flesh like brands. The whispers grew louder, building into a storm that threatened to crush her.

Aria's lips parted. Her chest heaved. She tried to speak but her voice caught in her throat.

Her lips trembled. Words died.

Her wolf whimpered inside her, pressing against her heart. The Moon Goddess remained silent. And her father's stare, heavy and merciless, bore down upon her like judgment itself.

She had never felt so small. So broken. So utterly alone.