Elara POV

The next morning, the guttural roar of an engine woke me up.

I looked out my small attic window.

Thorne was parked in the driveway in a brand-new, gleaming black SUV.

Seraphina ran out the front door, wearing a beautiful silk dress.

Thorne opened the car door for her, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before they drove off to buy supplies for the mating ceremony.

My mother stood on the porch, waving at them with a massive, greedy smile on her face.

"Elara! Get down here!" my father's voice boomed from the living room.

I walked downstairs.

My father was sitting in his heavy leather armchair.

My mother was standing next to the wooden coffee table.

Right in the center of the table sat an old, rusted iron box.

It was the box that held our family's most valuable possessions.

My mother popped the latch and opened the lid.

Inside rested five shimmering, milky-white stones.

Moonstones.

In our world, Moonstones were incredibly rare. They held pure lunar energy and were used as high-level currency and power sources for pack wards.

These five stones were the life savings of our ancestors.

"Since you're heading to the border tomorrow," my mother started, her tone completely casual, "it's not safe for you to carry valuables."

She reached into the box and scooped up all five stones.

"We're giving these to Seraphina for her dowry," she announced. "She needs to look the part of a Luna."

I stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring at them.

"No," I said.

The word hung in the air, sharp and clear.

My father's head snapped up.

"Excuse me?" he growled.

I stepped fully into the living room.

"I'm not going to the border," I said, keeping my voice perfectly steady. "And I'm not giving up my cut."

My mother's face turned red with fury.

"You selfish brat!" she yelled. "You're a disgrace! You owe us your life!"

"I want my share," I continued, ignoring her insults. "I'm leaving this pack to find my own Mate. I need travel funds. Two and a half stones are mine."

My father stood up.

He was a Beta, a high-ranking warrior, and his physical presence was intimidating.

He slammed his heavy fist onto the wooden table; the iron box jumped with a dull, rattling clang.

"Are you out of my mind?" he roared. "An Omega demanding an inheritance? Defying the Alpha's orders?"

My mother stepped forward, her eyes narrowing into vicious slits.

"Find a Mate?" she mocked, laughing cruelly. "Who would want a pathetic, magicless thing like you?"

She crossed her arms, a dark suspicion crossing her face.

"Or is this about Thorne?" she hissed.

My father froze.

"Are you jealous?" my mother accused, stepping closer to me. "Are you staying just to steal him from your sister?"

I looked at the woman who gave birth to me.

There was no love in her eyes, only a desperate need to protect her favorite child's status.

"I couldn't care less about Thorne," I said smoothly. "They deserve each other."

My father pointed a thick, shaking finger at my face.

"If you pull a stunt to ruin her ceremony, I'll kill you myself," he threatened.

Before I could answer, the sound of heavy tires crunching on the gravel driveway interrupted us.

The front door burst open.

Seraphina walked in, her arms full of shopping bags.

Behind her, Thorne and two pack warriors were carrying boxes upon boxes of expensive gifts.

The dowry had arrived.

Seraphina practically danced into the living room.

"Mom, look!" she squealed, dropping her bags onto the sofa. "Look what Thorne brought!"

My mother's eyes widened with pure greed.

She rushed over to the boxes the warriors had set down.

She pulled out gleaming weapons forged from pure silver—incredibly rare and deadly in the werewolf world.

She unveiled rolls of imported silk and certificates for brand-new modern appliances.

Then, Seraphina reached into her purse and pulled out a thick white envelope.

She handed it to my mother.

My mother opened it, and I saw her gasp.

It was a massive bank check.

"Thorne, this is too much," my mother said, her voice shaking with fake emotion. "We're so blessed."

I stood silently by the stairs.

The dream had shown me this scene too, though in a different form. In the dream, Thorne had given my parents a single basket of basic winter supplies. No silver. No silk. No money. The contrast made my stomach turn with disgust—not at the disparity, but at the realization that even in the dream, I had been worth so little to him.

Seraphina slipped a sparkling new diamond watch onto her wrist.

She looked up and finally noticed the tense atmosphere in the room.

"Why is everyone glaring?" Seraphina asked, tilting her head.

My mother sneered and pointed a finger at me.

"Your sister lost her mind," my mother announced loudly. "She's refusing the border and claims she's leaving to find a Mate!"

Seraphina's mouth dropped open in shock.

"A Mate?" Seraphina asked. "Elara, who on earth is going to claim you?"

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped.

Thorne stepped out from behind the pile of gifts.

His face was dark, like a storm cloud ready to burst.

His eyes locked onto mine, burning with a furious, possessive rage.

He walked slowly toward me.

With every step he took, his Alpha aura leaked out, making the air heavy and hard to breathe.

He used his massive height to back me up until my shoulders hit the wooden doorframe.

"Who?" Thorne demanded, his voice dropping to a terrifying growl.

He leaned in, and I felt the crushing weight of the Alpha's Command.

The Command was a biological weapon. It was an invisible pressure that forced lower-ranking wolves to submit, breaking their bones if they resisted.

My knees trembled, but I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand straight.

"Who are you running off with?" Thorne interrogated, his breath hot against my cheek.

I glared back at him.

"None of your business," I choked out against the heavy pressure of his Command.

Thorne's eyes flashed with a dangerous yellow light.

"Stop playing games," he whispered viciously. "I know you're trying to make me jealous so I'll stop the ceremony. It won't work."

I almost laughed. Even now, even after everything, he believed the entire world revolved around him. The dream had shown me this too—his bottomless arrogance, his inability to imagine that I might want something other than him.

But the dream had not shown me what happened next.

Suddenly, a deafening roar did not shatter the tension but pulverized it. It was not an animal. It was the sound of a monstrous, heavy-duty engine outside, and the floorboards vibrated with its power.

Everyone turned their heads toward the open front door.

A massive, military-grade black vehicle tore into our driveway, its tires grinding the gravel to dust. Painted on its door in a stark, blood-red script was the crest of the Blood Eclipse Pack—the most ruthless, globally dominant werewolf syndicate in North America. A second, plainer vehicle followed, parking silently behind it.

The driver's door of the first vehicle opened.

A man stepped out.

The moment his boot hit the ground, the entire world stopped spinning.

A scent did not hit my nose; it was an atmospheric change, a sudden prickle of static in the air, the kind that precedes a lightning strike. It was the smell of ozone and damp earth, of high-voltage arcs and ancient, rain-soaked cedar.

It was the most intoxicating thing I had ever breathed in.

My heart began to hammer against my ribs like a war drum.

My blood boiled in my veins, a scorching heat spreading through my limbs.

Deep inside my mind, a chaotic storm of anxiety and fear simply vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of absolute peace.

My wandering soul had found its home.

And then, my Inner Wolf, who had been quiet and beaten down since the dream had awakened me, clawed her way to the surface of my mind and let out a deafening, possessive roar that was felt, not heard.

Mine!

The man ascended the porch steps. Black, tailored broadcloth stretched taut across his shoulders with the movement, pulling into sharp, severe creases. My parents' terrified gazes, Thorne's rigid stance of defense—all became insignificant obstacles in his path, crushed like dry leaves as he walked directly to me.

He was breathtakingly handsome, with sharp jawlines, dark hair, and eyes like liquid silver.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of damp hair away from my face.

The moment his skin made contact with mine, a violent jolt, not of electricity, but of pure recognition, shot straight down my spine. The soft cartilage deep in my throat contracted, strangling a gasp before it could form.

"I'm Kael," he said. His voice was a deep, velvet rumble that vibrated in my chest.

He looked deep into my eyes, completely ignoring the rest of the room.

"Elara," he declared. "I've come to take my Mate home."

The dream had shown me a lifetime of suffering, a death in a pool of my own blood, and a final wish whispered over my body. But it had never shown me this.

The Moon Goddess, it seemed, had kept one secret for herself.