Chapter 1: The Stirring

The wind shifted before dawn.

I woke with my sheets tangled between my legs, my skin hot despite the crisp morning air spilling through the open window. The forest beyond my bedroom breathed in shadows and moonlight, and something inside me—deep, ancient, uncoiled like smoke.

Eighteen.

I lay still, heart thrumming like the earth was whispering beneath my skin. My wolf didn’t speak—not in words—but she was awake now, restless in a way she’d never been before. I could feel her pressing against the edges of me, not violently… but expectant. Like we were both standing on the edge of a cliff, and something was about to leap.

I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. A soft knock at the door was followed by the creak of hinges. My mother peeked in, her silver braid slipping over one shoulder, eyes kind and sharp as always.

“Happy birthday, moonborn.”

Moonborn. The term made my stomach flutter, half with pride, half with dread. In Nightfall, a wolf’s eighteenth birthday wasn’t just a celebration. It was a rite. Today, everything changed.

“Thanks,” I murmured, pulling a sweater over the thin silk tank I’d worn to sleep. My skin still tingled, like I’d been kissed by lightning.

“You’ll bathe before the Gathering,” she said gently, stepping in to press a kiss to my forehead. “The seer will bless the younglings at dusk.”

“I’m not a youngling anymore,” I muttered, voice husky from sleep and nerves.

Her eyes crinkled. “You’re not. But you’re not Luna yet either.”

That word—Luna—settled over me like a shroud and a crown. I was to train for it soon. I was to stand at Alpha Kael’s side, if the bond sparked. If fate allowed. If my wolf agreed.

If.

But I already knew. She was stirring too fiercely for this to be a normal day.

The rest of the morning passed in a blur of tradition. Elders came to bless me. The healer drew silver runes on my wrists. My father watched me closely over breakfast, quiet as always. I barely tasted the food. I kept glancing at the trees, wondering why the wind smelled different—sharper, electric.

By late afternoon, the village square was alive with laughter and firelight. Tables groaned under feast offerings. Musicians tuned their strings, the scent of venison and honey-thyme bread curling in the air. But my focus narrowed to the far gate.

He wasn’t here yet.

Kael.

He hadn’t come with the initial party from the High Ridge Den. No one knew why. No one dared ask. Alpha Kael Darius wasn’t just any alpha. He was young, powerful, chosen by the moon before his father’s death. And I’d seen him only twice—once at council, once from afar during winter rites. Both times, my wolf had stirred… but tonight?

Tonight was the Moonlight Gathering.

Where the mate bond revealed itself.

The sun dipped low. I stood in the grove in ceremonial white, petals braided into my hair. My wolf paced beneath my skin, her eyes my own.

Around me, others laughed, whispered, twirled with would-be mates. But I stood still, trembling slightly as twilight bled across the sky.

Then I felt it.

A pulse.

A heartbeat not mine.

My breath hitched. My head snapped toward the eastern path just as a figure emerged between the trees—tall, broad, dark-blond hair tousled by the wind. He walked like the forest belonged to him, like he could command storms.

Kael.

And then his eyes met mine.

Gold.

And I burned.

My knees nearly gave out. My chest rose sharply, a breath caught in my throat. My wolf surged forward, howling in the dark of my mind. His scent hit me a second later—pine smoke, iron, musk—and something within me snapped taut, as if the stars themselves had aligned and chosen him.

I stepped back. He stepped forward.

The crowd melted away.

It was just us now.

His gaze devoured me, slow and unrelenting. My skin flushed, my nipples tightening beneath the thin white fabric as if responding to him, to the bond. My thighs pressed together involuntarily.

He stopped only feet away.

“You feel it,” he said, voice low, rough velvet.

I swallowed, my throat dry. “I don’t even know you.”

“But your wolf does,” he said simply, and the way he said it made something deep in my core clench.

The bond was like a live wire between us—vibrating, electric, ancient. My hands trembled at my sides. He didn’t touch me. Gods, I didn’t know if I could handle it if he did.

“You should dance,” someone whispered behind me, trying to nudge me toward the circle of young wolves.

Kael’s eyes flared.

“Dance with me,” he said.

It wasn’t a question.

I wanted to say no.

I nodded.

We moved through the steps like we’d done this a thousand times. His hand at my waist was hot even through the silk. His body moved with lethal grace, his presence overwhelming. My skin prickled with awareness. My breasts brushed his chest with each step. My thighs were wet, aching—and I hated it.

Hated how much I already needed him.

“This isn’t fair,” I whispered, eyes locked on his.

“I know,” he said. “But it’s real.”

We spun, turned, stopped. The music faded, and we stood breathless, his palm still at the small of my back.

“I’m not ready,” I whispered.

His gaze darkened, softening just slightly. “Neither am I. But we don’t have to rush the moon.”

He leaned closer, not touching, not yet, his breath warm against my temple.

“But you’re mine,” he whispered. “And I’m yours. Whether we’re ready or not.”

I shivered.

My wolf howled her answer.

And the stars, silent above, burned with fate.