Chapter 2

Ivelle walked absent-mindedly through the woods behind the Alpha's mansion for over an hour, her feet carrying her deeper and deeper into the darkness.

Her swollen feet were now blistered and cut, but her mind was too consumed to register the physical pain.

Tormented by the unprovoked rejection, hot tears streamed down her face. The worst fate she had feared had befallen her—blood and bone, and the heartache was more than she could bear.

Without a name on her hand, she was now destined to be one of the rejects, cast aside from the important matters of the community and the pack.

Those unmarked by the moon goddess with the celestial ink bearing their mate's name were treated cruelly. They were considered unwanted and given no significance.

Whether the mark vanished due to rejection or had never appeared at all, the treatment was the same.

Ivelle Argent, granddaughter of Liya Argent, had the unfortunate luck of becoming one of those rejects at her coming-of-age ceremony.

She couldn't bear to face her friends, her father, or her grandmother after what had transpired. She longed to be alone, to find solace in nature and in her own feelings, away from the harsh judgments of her peers and elders.

Ivelle wandered aimlessly in the dark, her wolf, Marsa, radiating a powerful, protective aura, ensuring no creature dared approach.

Marsa seethed with anger. "Why did he do that to us? Who is he to question our worth as his mate? Tsk! Does he even know who we are?" Marsa's fury intensified.

Ivelle's body trembled from the cold. Her shawl had long fallen, leaving her shoulders exposed. The night air bit at her skin, making her feel frail and vulnerable.

"Ivelle Argent, I reject you as my mate! Let our paths not cross again in this lifetime."

His words echoed loudly in her mind, but no matter how forcefully they resonated, they couldn't rouse her from her daze.

Tears continued to fall, soaking her face. She hoped to exhaust herself, draining her body so completely that the ache and loneliness would cease, if only for a moment.

"Ivelle, wake up!" Marsa's voice trembled with panic. "You've wandered too far. We should head back. It's not safe out here!"

They were nearing the border that separated the Noble Heart pack from the Silver Storm pack—rivals who would not tolerate trespassers on their land.

"Ivelle!" Marsa's growl reverberated, but her words couldn't reach the dazed girl. She continued walking, nearing the border with each passing step.

Twenty minutes later, Ivelle stood at the edge, still lost in her trance. She lifted her foot to take another step when suddenly, a silver light shot down from the moon and enveloped her.

The light lifted her off the ground, and moonlit melodies echoed in the distance, stirring something deep within her. The light awakened the crescent moon symbol between her eyes.

Dark clouds gathered over Salkire, Ivelle's hometown, as lightning cracked across the sky. A deafening roar of thunder followed, striking the earth toward Ivelle.

"Arghhhhhhh!" Ivelle screamed as the pain ripped through her, searing every inch of her body. It broke through the haze of her sorrow, pulling her into the present moment.

A second strike came, paralyzing her, leaving her unable to do anything but grit her teeth and endure the agony.

The people of Salkire, werewolves from every pack, fell to their knees. They felt the call of the moon stronger than ever before, as if the very air around them was urging them to transform.

"Awoo!" werewolves from all corners of the four lands howled at the light, but they recoiled from the thunder that followed.

The third and fourth strikes came in rapid succession, jarring Ivelle and Marsa's bodies, their trembling form unable to catch a breath.

Ivelle spat blood as the crescent moon on her forehead began to glow, faint but powerful, mirroring the moon's silvery light.

Three more lightning strikes followed, weakening Ivelle further. Her body hung suspended in the light as if untouched by gravity. Then, a sweet, angelic voice resonated from the moon, heard by all in the four lands.

"My jewel, with my light, I bind you to the moon, and my children to you. Lift the legacy of those who came before you, for my blessings will always be with you."

"Awooooo!" The wolves howled in unison, their joy overwhelming, as if they had been starved and now found sustenance.

For twenty years, the disappearance of the last moon jewel had devastated the four lands, and now, the prophecy had come true. A new moon jewel had risen.

As the goddess finished speaking, the silver light faded, and Ivelle's body gently descended to the ground.

Too weak to move after enduring the seven lightning strikes, Ivelle lay still. The blessings of the moon goddess felt like a cruel mockery, given the circumstances.

The moon goddess had granted her a mate who rejected her—left her feeling unwanted. Watching him turn his back on her had made the gift of being the moon's jewel seem hollow.

Her gaze shifted to the empty spot on her wrist where her mate's name should have been, then up to the moon. 'What does this mean?' The goddess confused her; on one hand, she showered her with blessings, but on the other, she had cursed her too.

The crescent eye on her face glowed, a beacon that drew werewolves from all around. Every werewolf in Salkire felt an overwhelming compulsion to shift and run toward her, their instincts nearly driving them to madness.

Alphas and elders alike followed the pull, not knowing what they were searching for but unable to resist the call.

Liya Argent was the first to reach Ivelle. She resisted the power of the moon jewel long enough to shift back to her human form.

Hastily, she took out a vial of purple liquid and dropped two drops onto Ivelle's crescent eye.

"Mmmmh," Ivelle groaned as the liquid spread, blending into her skin. In less than a minute, the crescent was completely concealed, its power nullified.

Ivelle felt a sense of relief as her grandmother's familiar face appeared before her. She longed to reach out, to feel the warmth of her embrace, but she fainted before she could.

"Rest, child. I've got you," Liya whispered as she lifted Ivelle into her arms and sprinted toward home.

The werewolves of Salkire, freed from the moon's pull, shifted back into their human forms, exchanging confused glances.

"The moon's jewel is here. Who could it be?" was the question on everyone's mind.

The moon's jewel, or the moon's she-wolf, was a title given to one with immense power—able to control werewolves, strip them of their identity if deemed unworthy, or grant a human the ability to shift into a wolf.

The Alphas of the four lands coveted the moon's jewel, hoping to claim her for their packs. That night, the hunt began.

The Noble Heart pack was no different. Alpha Kyair stood silently, staring at the moon. The crescent birthmark over his heart pulsed as he instinctively moved toward the location of the moon jewel.

He knew deep down that his mark was connected to hers, pulling him more strongly than the others. But when he arrived at the spot where Ivelle had lain, she was gone—along with her scent.

The silver blood on the ground held no trace, no clue as to where she had gone. She had vanished into the night, leaving no trail behind.

"The moon jewel, huh?" Beta Xavier broke the silence. "Why now? Is there an important event on the horizon?"

Alpha Kyair's cold gaze remained fixed in the direction Liya had gone. He could feel, in his gut, that the moon's jewel was somewhere along that path.

"Salkire will be busy searching for her. One thing is clear—she's here. It's only a matter of time before someone finds her," Xavier observed, his tone pragmatic. "We should find her first. The world's a dangerous place, and we can't let her fall into the wrong hands."

Alpha Kyair gave no reply, simply turning and walking back in silence, his thoughts unreadable.

Xavier followed, and after a moment, the Alpha spoke.

"Send everyone home. The party is over. We'll decide whether to reschedule tomorrow, after consulting with the elders," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of a decision made.

"Yes, that's the right call. No one's in the mood for celebration anyway," Xavier agreed.

"Mmh," Alpha Kyair murmured before retreating to his room, lost in thought.