The Rise of Aria Thornwyn

Aria

If the Moon Goddess had any mercy left, she’d strike me down right now.

I clutched the straps of my backpack so tightly my fingers went numb. Every step toward Blue Stone’s border felt like a countdown to public humiliation. My father walked beside me, head held high like he wasn’t about to hand me over like a secondhand offering. His voice, usually stern and unreadable, softened as he glanced at me.

“Maybe you’re his mate. The Moon Goddess doesn’t make mistakes.”

I wanted to scream, She made plenty when she made me.

But I just nodded, pretending I believed that fairytale. That fate would somehow make me belong to someone. That I wouldn’t be the one rejected, again.

My thighs rubbed together uncomfortably in the thick jeans I’d squeezed myself into. My hoodie clung to my arms like a wet second skin. I hated every inch of my body right now. Not because it was wrong, but because I knew they would look at me and decide it was.

When we reached the stone border lined with carved wolf heads, two warriors emerged from the woods. They didn’t ask my name. They didn’t offer a hand. Just stared, wide-eyed, judgmental, a mix of pity and something uglier.

My father cleared his throat. “I’m Alpha Thornwyn. This is my daughter, Aria. She’s of age, unmarked, and—”

“She’ll be assessed by Alpha Ryle,” one of the guards cut in coldly. “Follow us.”

That was it. No greeting. No warmth. No ceremony.

Just like I expected.

We walked in silence along a winding trail that led up to the massive Pack House, if you could even call it that. It was more like a fortress, all stone and glass, carved into the mountain with silver spikes lining its balcony rails. Blue flags with the sigil of a howling wolf fluttered in the breeze like mocking applause. I swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn and run back into the forest.

But I had nowhere else to go. At the top of the marble stairs, two large wooden doors opened slowly, and out stepped Alpha Ryle.

He was tall, at least six-five, with a graying beard, eyes sharp as blades, and a posture that screamed dominance. His presence sucked the air out of the space. He looked down at me like he was examining a disappointing meal.

“So,” he said dryly. “This is what Thornwyn sends.”

My father gave a respectful nod. “She’s ready to find her mate.”

Ryle’s lips tightened like he’d tasted something sour. He didn’t even bother to greet me. Just stepped aside and muttered, “Wait here.”

My heart banged against my ribs like a trapped creature. This was it. This was the moment the Moon Goddess would fix everything. Where my mate would step out, take my hand, and tell me I mattered. That I wasn’t too much or not enough, I was just right.

And then, he appeared.

Matthew.

He didn’t walk, he stalked forward like he owned the world. Tall, broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in a black t-shirt that clung to his chest and arms like sin itself. His hair was dark, windswept and messy, like he’d just run his fingers through it. His jaw was sharp, clean-shaven, with the faintest scar running from just under his right eye to the edge of his cheekbone.

But it was his eyes that paralyzed me.