Chapter 3 Whispers of Shame

The crowd pressed closer, their voices rising like a swarm of insects, buzzing in her ears, biting into her skin, filling the sacred clearing with venom.

"Why does she carry a human's mark?"

"The Moon Goddess would never bless such filth."

"She's tainted. She can't be Alpha."

Each word was a lash. Each whisper a knife cutting deeper.

Aria's knees wavered beneath her, trembling as though the ground itself had turned against her. The heat of their stares pressed in from every side, suffocating, crushing, burning her. Her lungs fought for air, but her chest would not open.

The mark on her wrist pulsed hotter, glowing faintly beneath the torchlight for all to see. She curled her fingers into a fist, nails slicing into her palm until blood welled, but still the glow remained. No matter how tightly she clenched, no matter how desperately she wished, the cursed light would not disappear.

She wanted to claw it off. To tear her own skin apart. To bleed until the shame was gone. But the brand clung to her like fire, mocking her weakness.

And then there was his gaze.

Her father's.

Alpha Mason stood rigid, his broad shoulders taut, his fists clenched at his sides. His eyes those familiar storm-gray eyes that once looked upon her with pride were now colder than the northern winds. Harder than steel.

This was not the gaze of the man who used to lift her high above the pack, laughing as she squealed with joy. This was not the gaze of the father who told her bedtime stories about the Moon Goddess and her warriors, who had called her his greatest treasure.

This was the gaze of a stranger.

Explain.

The demand rang in her skull though his lips had not moved. His Alpha aura pressed against her chest, demanding submission, demanding obedience.

But how could she? How could she speak the truth? How could she stand before her father, before her entire pack, and admit that before her wolf even stirred awake, a shadow in the night had stolen everything? That a stranger no, a human had scarred her soul and branded her flesh?

Her throat closed. Her tongue shriveled. Her lips moved but no sound came.

And her silence condemned her.

Alpha Mason's jaw tightened, his voice cutting the night like a blade.

"The ceremony is over."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Elders exchanged glances some pitying, most scornful, a few smug in their vindication. Murmurs rose like wildfire, feeding off one another until the clearing seethed with contempt.

"She's not chosen."

"She's cursed."

"She will bring ruin if allowed to lead."

A few wolves even spat on the ground, as though her presence defiled the sacred soil of the Moon Ceremony.

Aria's chest caved in on itself, the rejection a wound deeper than claws through flesh. Her wolf whimpered inside her, small and wounded, curling in despair.

I'm sorry, Aria whispered back in her heart. I failed us.

She did not remember leaving the clearing. One moment, the pack's voices crashed over her like waves; the next, her legs gave out. Strong arms caught her before she hit the earth.

Elora.

Her best friend half-carried, half-dragged her away from the cruel eyes and sharper tongues. Through the corridors of the packhouse, through the endless stares of servants who whispered behind their hands, until finally, Aria collapsed onto her bed.

Elora's hands shook as she wiped away tears Aria hadn't even realized were still streaming down her face.

"Elora," Aria whispered, her voice raw and broken. "Tell me the truth. Did you see it? The mark?"

Elora hesitated. For a heartbeat, she looked as though she might lie. But Elora had never lied to her, not once. And tonight, when the whole world seemed a lie, Aria needed the truth more than anything.

"Yes," Elora admitted at last, her lip trembling. "I saw it."

Aria's breath hitched. Her chest heaved as though struck by a blow. "Then it's real." Her voice cracked, breaking into shards. She curled into herself, clutching her wrist against her chest as if hiding it would erase it. "I thought... I hoped... maybe it was just a nightmare. Maybe last night was only..."

Her voice collapsed into sobs, words drowned in pain.

Elora dropped to her knees beside her, tears bright in her own eyes. "Don't say that, Aria. Please don't. You're not tainted. You're strong. You're brave. You're..."

"No." Aria's laugh was jagged glass, sharp enough to cut. "The pack believes I'm cursed. And my father..." Her throat constricted. A sob tore through her as she pressed her fists to her mouth, trying to stifle the scream clawing up her chest. "He looked at me as if I'm nothing."

Elora reached for her hand, but no words of comfort could erase the memory of that look.

Outside, the pack had not quieted.

Through the open window, Aria heard them. Their voices carried on the night air, crueler than ever.

"The Alpha's daughter is marked by a human."

"She's no heir to Silverfang."

"She should be exiled before she brings ruin."

Each word was another blade twisting in her chest.

Elora rushed to shut the shutters, to block out the poison, but Aria caught her wrist, her grip surprisingly firm. Her tear-streaked eyes gleamed with despair.

"Don't. Let me hear it. I deserve to hear it."

Her wolf growled inside her, low and defiant, but powerless beneath the tide of humiliation.

Maybe they're right, Aria thought, nails biting into her palms until they drew blood. Maybe I don't belong here. Maybe I never did.

The door slammed open.

Alpha Mason filled the frame like a storm, his presence overwhelming the room, his Alpha aura pressing against her skin until her breath hitched. Even Elora, fierce and loyal, flinched under his gaze, bowing low as though the weight of his authority would crush her if she didn't.

"Leave us," he ordered, his voice sharp as a whip.

Elora lifted her head, desperation flickering in her eyes. "Alpha, please. She needs..."

"Leave. Now."

The finality in his tone left no room for argument. Elora's lip trembled, but she obeyed, casting one last worried look at Aria before slipping out.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Heavy. Cold.

Mason's eyes dark as a midnight storm locked onto his daughter. His jaw was a line of stone, his shoulders rigid, every inch of him radiating fury barely contained.

"Aria," he said, each syllable sharp as a blade, "you will tell me what happened."

Her lips trembled. She reached for him with the only word that had always been her lifeline. "Father, I..."

"Do not call me that."

The words sliced deeper than any dagger.

Aria staggered back as if struck. Her stomach lurched, her chest hollowed. The man who had raised her, trained her, loved her was now stripping away the title she had always clung to.

The rejection in his voice cut deeper than the whispers of the crowd.

"Explain the mark," he demanded again, his tone low and lethal. "Now."

Her mouth opened, her soul screaming to confess, to beg him to believe her. To protect her. But when she tried, the words tangled in her throat, choking her.

How could she tell him? How could she speak of shadows and pain without sounding weak? Without sounding defiled? Would he believe she fought back? Would he see her as the victim or as the shame of his bloodline?

Tears blurred her vision. She shook her head, her voice a broken whisper. "I can't..."

Mason's face hardened into stone. His eyes turned to steel. With a sharp turn, he strode to the door, his cloak snapping behind him like a lash.

"If you cannot explain, then you are no Alpha." His voice was thunder, merciless. "Perhaps no daughter of mine at all."

Lightning struck her heart. The words left her scorched, broken, hollow.

The door slammed shut, and the silence left behind was louder than screams.

Aria sank to the floor, her trembling hands clawing at her wrist until her nails drew blood. She sobbed into the emptiness, her cries muffled by the cold stone walls that refused to answer.

Moon Goddess, why me? What sin did I commit to deserve this fate?

Outside, whispers continued, sharper now, spreading through the pack like wildfire.

"Did you see how the Alpha looked at her? Like she wasn't his child at all."

"Maybe she isn't."

"That would explain the curse."

The words slithered through the corridors, carried by eager tongues.

And in the shadows just beyond the door, Elora pressed trembling hands to her mouth, her heart breaking. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks. She wanted to rush in, to fight the whole pack for Aria if she had to. But she knew this was only the beginning.

The pack would not stop.

They would tear Aria apart piece by piece until nothing remained.

Unless the truth came out first.