Goldentreee

“He rejected me in front of the entire pack… because she stole my scent.”

Nobody wants a rejected Omega.

Ayla Riverwinddoesn’t care anymore. She's done waiting for fate. As Northmoon Pack’s healer, she’s content in the shadows—until the day her world burns.

Her best friend, ‘Cassia’, uses forbidden scentbinding magic to steal Ayla’s identity and claim her mate—high-ranking Alpha ‘Darius’—as her own. Publicly rejected, shackled in silver, and tortured with wolfsbane, Ayla is cast into a dungeon and marked feral. The rejection was meant to break her.

Instead, it awakens something ancient inside her. When she escapes into the Outlands, Ayla meets ‘Rylan Stormblade’—a rogue healer with secrets carved into his skin and knowledge of a lost ritual that may restore her scent... or kill her.

But Ayla’s scent is no longer just hers. It burns through the bond realm, ripping through the senses of one wolf in particular—’Kael Valerius’, the Alpha King. His wolf goes feral when her scent touches the wind, but he already has a Luna.

Now hunted by Alphas who want her dead, claimed by a King she doesn’t trust, and stalked by a prophecy that says “the next Luna will break the throne or bless it”, Ayla must rise—not as someone’s mate…but as the Luna they tried to erase.

Rejected By The Alpha, Desired By The King

They didn't follow us immediately.

The Seers stood frozen at the edge of the burned circle, their eyes full of prophecies unraveling. I didn't need to stay and hear the whispers. I knew what they would say. "The Luna reborn." "The cursed line wakes." "She is not ours."

Let them fear what they could not leash.

Kael walked a step behind me as we left the grove, every footfall of his deliberate, quiet, watchful. He hadn't touched me again since the circle, and I knew why. Something had changed. The kiss by the moonwell had burned bright, but this—this was the aftermath.

And Kael, gods bless him, was waiting for me to choose what I would become.

Back in the camp, the air shifted. The pack was awake. No songs. No laughter. Just eyes.

60: ASHES OF THE FIRST MOON