Kaia's POV
I run through the forest like hell itself is chasing me.
Behind me, I hear Moira screaming for guards. She saw the destroyed shed, saw the silver light still flickering on my hands, and now she knows. She knows what I am—what I'm becoming.
An Omega. The thing she's feared for years.
My feet pound against the earth as I race toward the Neutral Grounds. The blood moon hangs overhead, massive and crimson, calling to something deep in my bones. The power that exploded from me twenty minutes ago still hums under my skin, waiting.
I can't let Moira stop me. Not now. Not when I'm so close.
The ancient Moon Temple appears through the trees—white stone pillars glowing under the blood moon's light. Other wolves are already gathering, unmated or rejected like me, desperate for a second chance.
Or desperate enough to risk death.
I slow as I approach, trying to catch my breath. My whole body trembles—from running, from fear, from the power building inside me with every passing second.
You came.
Maeve materializes from the shadows, her silver eyes approving. She's wearing ceremonial robes now, her rogue status hidden under the formal priestess attire.
My stepmother tried to lock me up, I gasp. She knows what I am.
Of course she does. She's always known. Maeve touches my shoulder, and I feel some of my panic ease. But she can't stop the Goddess's will. Come. The ritual begins soon.
She leads me toward the temple where twelve other wolves wait in a circle around a raised stone altar. They're all ages, all ranks—the desperate and the broken, united by rejection and hope.
High Priestess Selene stands at the altar's center, ancient and powerful. Her white hair flows down her back, and her eyes glow with the same divine light as Maeve's. When she sees me approach, something flickers across her face.
Recognition? Fear?
Another volunteer, Selene announces. Thirteen total. A sacred number. Take your place in the circle, child.
I slip between two other wolves, a young male who won't meet anyone's eyes, and a scarred female who looks like she's already survived a war. We're all broken in different ways.
Perfect candidates for the Goddess's mercy, or her judgment.
The Offering Rite is ancient and binding, Selene's voice carries across the temple grounds. You volunteer freely, knowing the risks. Most will receive nothing. Some will receive a mark pointing toward their destined mate. And some...
She doesn't finish. She doesn't have to.
Some of us will die tonight.
The blood moon reaches its peak position, flooding the temple with crimson light. It makes everything look like it's drowning in blood.
We begin, Selene intones.
She calls the first volunteer forward—a young male barely twenty. He kneels at the altar, head bowed. Selene places her hands on his head and begins chanting in the old language, words that make my bones vibrate.
Divine light streams down from the blood moon, touching the male.
He gasps, then slumps. Nothing. No mark. No mate.
He stumbles back to the circle, tears streaming down his face. The Goddess found him unworthy.
The second volunteer—an older female, receives a faint mark on her wrist that glows softly. She collapses, sobbing with joy. Somewhere in the world, her mate exists. She has hope.
The third volunteer screams.
Power slams into him so hard his body convulses. The mark tries to form but can't—his wolf isn't strong enough to hold divine energy. Blood pours from his nose and eyes as his body rejects the blessing.
He dies before he hits the ground.
The circle of volunteers shifts nervously. Two priestesses remove the body while Selene continues like nothing happened. Death is part of the ritual. We all knew the risks.
Four more volunteers. Two receive nothing. One gets a faint mark. One dies screaming.
Then it's my turn.
Step forward, child.
My legs feel like water as I approach the altar. Every instinct screams at me to run, but I force myself to kneel. I didn't survive Moira's poison and Garrett's betrayal just to back down now.
Selene's hands rest on my head. Her eyes widen slightly, she feels the power dormant inside me, the Omega waiting to awaken.
Blessed Goddess, she begins, her voice shaking slightly. We offer this wolf to your judgment. Grant her mercy or release, as you will.
The blood moon pulses brighter.
Selene's chanting grows louder, more urgent. The old language wraps around me like chains, pulling at something deep in my chest. The dormant power inside me stirs, responding to the divine call.
Then the light comes.
Not from above, from everywhere.
Three beams of pure divine energy slam into me simultaneously from three different directions. One hits my right shoulder. One strikes my left ribs. One pierces directly over my heart.
I scream.
Pain explodes through every nerve ending as three marks begin to burn into my skin at the same time. My body tries to reject it—too much power, too much divine energy for one wolf to hold.
But I'm not just any wolf.
I'm an Omega.
And Omegas were made to hold this kind of power.
The sleeping beast inside me roars awake. My wolf surges forward—not small and brown like always, but massive and silver-white, radiating ancient power that makes the other volunteers stumble backward.
The temple grounds shake. Cracks spread through the stone altar.
IMPOSSIBLE! Selene staggers back, her face white with terror. The triple mark—it hasn't happened in a thousand years!
I can't respond. I'm drowning in divine fire, in power that's rewriting every cell in my body. The three marks burn like brands—claiming me, changing me, completing me.
Through the agony, I hear it.
Three howls.
From three different directions.
North, a sound of pure rage and denial.
East, a howl of shock and possessive hunger.
West, a cry that sounds almost like relief.
Three Alphas, feeling their marks activate. Three Alphas who just got bound to me whether they wanted it or not.
They're coming, Maeve breathes. The marked Alphas always come for their mate. But three—
The ground trembles. Not from my power this time, but from massive wolves running at full speed toward the temple.
I collapse onto the altar, the three marks still burning. Through the haze of pain and transformation, I see the other volunteers scatter in fear. Even the priestesses back away.
Only Selene remains, staring at me with horrified understanding.
The prophecy, she whispers. The triple-marked Omega. You're the one who'll either unite the packs or burn them all to ashes.
I try to speak but can't. The power is too much, the transformation too intense.
Three massive shapes burst through the temple entrance simultaneously.
A wolf black as midnight—huge, scarred, radiating violence.
A wolf gleaming silver—sleek, powerful, moving like water.
A wolf deep midnight blue—otherworldly, with eyes that glow with ancient magic.
They stop at the temple's threshold, staring at me sprawled on the altar.
Then they look at each other.
The recognition is instant. They can feel it—feel their marks, feel me, feel each other through the bond that just formed.
Three rival Alphas.
One Omega.
The black wolf snarls, all teeth and fury: MINE.
The silver wolf's growl is smooth and deadly: No. MINE.
The blue wolf's voice echoes with power: She belongs to all of us.
Then they lunge at each other.
The last thing I see before darkness takes me is three Alphas trying to rip each other's throats out over me—the weak, worthless girl who nobody wanted.
The girl who just became the most dangerous thing in the werewolf world.
Somewhere in the chaos, I hear Selene's terrified voice one more time:
The Moon Goddess help us all. The triple marking has returned.
Then everything goes black.
But not before I feel it—three bonds snapping into place like chains around my soul, binding me to three males I've never met.
Three Alphas who will either be my salvation or my doom.