ARIA'S POV
I can't stop shaking.
The silver light pouring from my body is so bright it hurts to look at. My scent—that scent that smells like ancient forests and mountain snow and something impossibly powerful—fills the entire grove until I can barely breathe.
And everyone is on their knees.
Everyone.
Kael, who just rejected me, is kneeling with his head bowed. His whole body trembles like he's fighting against invisible chains.
My father, the strongest Alpha in our territory, is bent forward with his forehead almost touching the ground.
Even Lyanna, who always stands tall and proud, has collapsed to her knees, her perfect white dress dirty with mud.
"What's happening to me?" I gasp.
My voice comes out strange—layered, echoing, like multiple voices speaking at once. The sound makes several wolves whimper in fear.
"Aria." Elder Moira pushes through the kneeling crowd. She's the only one who seems able to move, though even she looks shaken. "Child, breathe. You need to control it."
"Control what?" I'm crying now, tears mixing with the blood on my face. "I don't understand—"
"Your power," Moira says gently, kneeling beside me. Her old hands touch my shoulders, and some of the wild energy coursing through me settles slightly. "You're waking up."
Kael's voice cuts through, strained and angry. "What... what is this?" He's still fighting the instinct forcing him down, muscles bulging with effort. "Why can't I stand?"
"Because your wolf recognizes what she is," Moira answers sharply. She turns back to me, and her wrinkled face is full of wonder and fear. "That scent, Aria. It's impossible. You carry the Original Bloodline."
Gasps ripple through the pack.
"That's ridiculous!" My father's voice booms, though he still can't lift his head. "The Original Bloodline died out a thousand years ago! And she doesn't even have a wolf!"
Moira's eyes flash with fury. "She has no wolf because someone SEALED her!"
The grove goes silent except for my ragged breathing.
"Someone used blood magic to cage her power," Moira continues, her voice shaking with rage. "Dark sealing spells that should never be used. Someone buried anchors in her body to suppress what she truly is."
My mind spins. Sealed? Since when?
Then fragments of memory surface—things I'd forgotten or never questioned:
My stepmother Celeste making me drink "special tea" every morning since I was five years old.
Waking up with strange symbols drawn on my skin in what looked like ash.
Celeste whispering words I didn't understand while I pretended to sleep.
The way she always watched me. Always smiled when I failed.
"No," I whisper. "She wouldn't—"
But Moira is staring directly at Celeste now, and her expression is murderous.
"Would she?" Moira asks coldly.
Every wolf in the grove turns to look at my stepmother.
Celeste's face has gone sheet white. "I don't... this is insane... I would never—"
"You reek of dark magic," Moira interrupts. "I can smell it on you. Blood magic leaves a stain, Celeste. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
"Celeste?" My father's voice wavers. "What is she talking about?"
My stepmother's mouth opens and closes like a fish. Her eyes dart around, looking for escape, but there isn't one. The entire pack is watching.
"Why?" The word rips from my throat. "Why would you seal me?"
Celeste's face twists with something ugly. For just a second, the mask drops, and I see pure hatred in her eyes.
"Because you were supposed to be nothing," she hisses. "A weak, pathetic omega that everyone would forget about while my Lyanna shined."
The confession hits me like a slap.
"But your mother told me the truth before she died," Celeste continues, her voice rising. "Told me you carried ancient blood. That you'd be special. Powerful." She spits the word like poison. "I couldn't let that happen. Lyanna deserves to be Luna. Not you. Never you."
Lyanna is staring at her mother in shock. "Mother, what did you do?"
"What I had to!" Celeste shouts. "I sealed her power at birth. Fed her wolfsbane tea to keep her weak. Drew suppression symbols on her skin while she slept. And it worked. For twenty-two years, it worked perfectly!"
"Until tonight," Moira says quietly.
"Until he rejected her," Celeste snarls, glaring at Kael. "The rejection broke one of the seals. I didn't plan for that."
My whole body goes numb.
Twenty-two years. My entire life has been a lie.
I wasn't born broken. I was made broken. By the woman my father brought into our home. The woman who pretended to care for me while poisoning me every single day.
"I'll kill you," I whisper.
Celeste laughs. "You? You can barely stand—"
The ground cracks beneath my knees.
Power surges through me again, stronger this time, and my scent intensifies until wolves start whimpering. The silver light blazing from my body grows brighter, hotter.
"Aria, control it!" Moira warns. "You'll hurt yourself—"
But I don't want to control it.
I want to burn everything down.
The earth shakes. Trees groan. The full moon above seems to pulse in rhythm with my racing heart.
And then I feel it.
Three presences, far away but getting closer. Three points of blazing heat connected to the golden threads in my chest.
Three souls calling to mine.
Mates.
"They're coming," I gasp.
Sage, still kneeling but closer now, looks at me with wide eyes. "Who's coming, Aria?"
I don't know how I know. But I do. I can feel them waking, feel their rage, feel their desperate need to reach me.
"My mates," I whisper.
Kael's head snaps up. "That's impossible. I'm your mate—"
"You rejected me!" I scream, and the force of my voice knocks him backward. "You threw me away! The Moon Goddess gave me new mates. Better ones."
"How many?" Moira asks urgently.
I press my hand to my chest, feeling the three bonds burning there like stars.
"Three."
The pack erupts in chaos. Wolves shouting, arguing, some trying to stand but still unable to fight the submission instinct.
My father finally manages to lift his head. "Three mates is forbidden! It's against pack law—"
"I don't care about your laws!"
The words explode from me with such force that every wolf goes silent.
And that's when I feel it. The temperature drops. The air pressure changes. Even the insects go quiet.
Something is coming.
Something ancient and powerful and absolutely furious.
Moira's eyes widen. "Oh no. They're already here."
"Who?" my father demands.
"The Ancient Ones," Moira breathes. "The Original Wolves. They've been asleep for a thousand years, waiting for—"
The trees at the edge of the grove EXPLODE.
Wood splinters fly everywhere. Wolves scream and scatter as four massive shapes burst through the tree line.
Four wolves. But not like any I've ever seen.
They're huge—twice the size of normal wolves, with glowing eyes and power radiating from them like heat waves. Their presence is so overwhelming that the entire pack drops flat to the ground, unable to even kneel anymore.
These aren't modern wolves.
These are predators.
The four wolves shift to human form simultaneously, and I see them clearly:
A man with silver eyes and scars covering his muscular body.
A man with completely black eyes and shadows swirling around him like living creatures.
A man with pale blue eyes that glow with an eerie light.
And a fourth man, massive and deadly, standing guard.
The silver-eyed man's gaze sweeps across the grove. When he sees me—broken, bloody, kneeling in the dirt—his expression transforms into something terrifying.
Pure rage.
He crosses the clearing in three huge steps. Every wolf scrambles out of his way. When he reaches me, he drops to his knees and touches my face with shocking gentleness.
"Who," he says, his voice deadly quiet, "did this to you?"
And I realize three things at once:
One: This man is my mate. I can feel the golden thread connecting us, blazing bright.
Two: He's ancient. Powerful beyond anything I can imagine.
Three: Someone is about to die.