Kiera's POV
The whispers started the moment I walked through the ballroom doors.
"Three rejections."
"Moon Goddess cursed her."
"No Alpha would want her now."
I kept my chin up and my face blank, even though each word felt like claws raking across my skin. My father's hand gripped mine so tightly I thought my bones might crack, but I didn't pull away. His touch was the only thing keeping me from running straight back out into the night.
The Silvercrest Grand Gathering packed the Alpha Citadel's ballroom with hundreds of wolves dressed in their finest clothes. Chandeliers blazed overhead. Music should have been playing. Laughter should have filled the air.
Instead, everyone stared at me.
"Kiera," my father whispered, his voice rough with worry. "We can still leave. You don't have to endure this."
Yes, I did. Running would only prove them right. Prove that I was weak, broken, cursed.
I forced myself to scan the crowd, even though it hurt.
Alpha Damon Ironclad sat on his throne at the far end of the room, his handsome face carefully neutral. Three months ago, he'd claimed me as his fated mate during the autumn equinox ceremony. Three months ago, I'd believed in destiny and happy endings.
Then he discovered what I really was. What ran through my blood.
His rejection had been swift and public. "I need a Luna who serves the pack, not one the pack must serve."
Translation: he didn't want a mate with Oracle blood. A mate who could see possible futures and challenge his precious authority.
The rejection shattered her first wolf bond, causing excruciating physical and emotional pain that left her bedridden for weeks.
My eyes found Cade Ironclad next, Damon's younger brother, leaning against a marble pillar with a smirk playing on his lips. He looked pleased with himself, which made my stomach turn.
Two months ago, he'd claimed me under the pretense of protecting family honor. What he really wanted was possession. When I refused to be his secret plaything while he publicly courted another, he'd rejected me in front of half the pack.
"You were only ever good for one thing, Kiera. And you weren't even worth that."
The memory still burned.
Then there was Ryker Nightshade, standing with the visiting Alphas, his cold eyes watching me like I was a chess piece he'd miscalculated. Six weeks ago, I'd discovered the truth about his kindness. About how he'd orchestrated everything from the beginning, using me as a spy against the Ironclads.
His rejection had been the cruelest because I'd actually started to trust him.
"Did you really think I wanted you for you? You were always just a tool, little Oracle."
Three Alphas. Three rejections. Three different kinds of betrayal.
And now, apparently, I was about to pay the price.
Elder Marcus Steelclaw climbed onto the raised platform at the front of the ballroom. The ancient wolf's silver hair gleamed under the lights, but his eyes were sharp and merciless. The crowd fell silent instantly.
"Pack members of Silvercrest," his voice boomed across the space, "we gather tonight to uphold the sacred laws given to us by our ancestors."
My father's grip on my hand tightened even more.
"It has come to the Council's attention that one among us has suffered a grave misfortune." Steelclaw's gaze locked onto me, and ice flooded my veins. "Kiera Ashenvale, daughter of Beta Marcus, has been rejected not once, not twice, but three times by potential mates."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even though everyone already knew, hearing it announced officially made it real. Made it final.
"The ancient laws are clear," Steelclaw continued, his voice hard as stone. "Three rejections mark a wolf as cursed by the Moon Goddess herself. Such wolves bring misfortune to the pack. Therefore, according to Pack Law Article Seventeen, Section Four, Kiera Ashenvale must be exiled to the Rogue Lands."
The room exploded with shocked murmurs.
My father surged forward. "Elder Steelclaw, I object! My daughter has done nothing wrong. She's been the victim here, not the criminal!"
"The law does not concern itself with fault," Steelclaw said coldly. "Only with consequences. Three rejections equal exile. She has three days to prepare before she must leave pack territory and enter the Rogue Lands."
Three days. Three days before they threw me into the wilderness beyond pack protection, where rogues and wild predators hunted freely. Where rejected wolves went to die alone and forgotten.
I couldn't breathe. The ballroom spun around me.
Across the room, Damon looked away from me, guilt flashing across his face. Too little, too late.
Cade's smirk widened. He looked genuinely pleased that his cruelty had led to this.
Ryker's expression revealed nothing, but I could practically see the calculations running behind his eyes.
My father started arguing with Steelclaw, his voice rising with desperation. Other pack members joined in, some supporting the decision, others protesting it. The noise grew louder and louder until it felt like the walls themselves were screaming.
I stood frozen in the center of it all, my worst nightmare coming true in front of hundreds of witnesses.
Three rejections. Cursed. Exile. Death.
This was how my story ended.
Then a voice cut through the chaos like a blade, clear and defiant and utterly unexpected.
"She invokes the Blood Moon Hunt!"
Every head in the ballroom whipped toward the back corner where my best friend Lyra stood on top of a chair, her wild red hair blazing like fire and her eyes fierce with determination.
The entire room went dead silent.
Steelclaw's face turned purple with rage. "The Blood Moon Hunt has not been invoked in over fifty years. The girl has no right—"
"She has EVERY right!" Lyra shouted, jumping down and shoving her way through the crowd toward me. "It's sacred law, older than the Council itself. Any wolf facing exile can invoke the Hunt. You can't deny her without breaking Moon Law."
My heart hammered against my ribs. We'd talked about this as a desperate last option, but I never thought she'd actually do it. Never thought I'd be brave enough to accept.
Steelclaw's eyes narrowed to slits. "The Hunt requires Council approval—"
"The Hunt requires the MOON GODDESS's approval," Lyra shot back, her voice ringing with conviction. "And last I checked, Elder, you don't speak for Her. The law is clear: any wolf sentenced to exile may invoke the sacred Hunt. If you deny Kiera this right, you're not just breaking pack law. You're defying the Moon Goddess herself."
Murmurs swept through the crowd. Several wolves shifted uncomfortably. No one wanted to anger the Moon Goddess.
An older woman from the Council stepped forward, her expression troubled. "The girl speaks truth, Marcus. The Blood Moon Hunt is protected by Moon Law. We cannot deny it without consequences."
Steelclaw's jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth grind together.
Lyra reached my side and grabbed my hand, squeezing hard. Her eyes met mine, silently begging me to be brave.
I found my voice. It came out stronger than I expected.
"I invoke the Blood Moon Hunt."