Silvermoon Healer : the Alpha's Broken Bond

Seraphina's POV

The full moon hung high, its silver radiance pouring over the ancient clearing. The scents of pine and wild herbs intertwined on the night breeze. Members of the Blackmane Pack gathered around the central stone altar, the ceremonial drums beating low and powerful, like the heartbeat of the earth itself.

I stood at the edge of the crowd, trying to fade into the shadows, but my silver-white fur was particularly conspicuous in the moonlight. No matter how low a profile I kept, I couldn't conceal that distinctive shade with its blue luminescence.

As a healer from a nearly extinct small pack, I was accustomed to being ignored and dismissed. But tonight was different—tonight was the Moon Gathering, the most sacred celebration in werewolf society, and the night of the new Alpha's coronation.

And I, Seraphina Martinez, was his mate.

Only in name. I reminded myself bitterly.

The Elder approached the altar, her gray fur glimmering with golden patterns in the moonlight. She raised her hands, and the drums abruptly ceased, silencing all the werewolves.

"Children of the Moon," her voice was solemn and clear, reaching across the entire clearing, "tonight, we gather as our ancestors did. The moonlight witnesses our blood awakening and honor passing down. Tonight, we welcome our new Alpha."

My gaze instinctively sought out Lucian. He stood tall and straight, his deep gray fur entwined with silver patterns, as if tailored by the moonlight itself. His amber eyes reflected the firelight as he stood before everyone, commanding and confident, the perfect embodiment of an Alpha.

Pack members wore their most formal attire, adorned with ornaments symbolizing status and glory. The young females could barely contain their excitement, especially the unmated ones, their eyes following Lucian's every movement.

The Elder placed her hand on Lucian's shoulder, blessing him solemnly: "The blood of leaders flows within you, Lucian Jackson. May you guide our pack with wisdom and strength."

One by one, pack elders and ally representatives came forward to pay their respects. I noticed Mira Wilson—her deep red fur radiant in the firelight and moonlight. She approached with her head held high, carrying an intricately carved wooden box, her presence commanding.

"Alpha," her voice was crisp and powerful, "I bring a gift from the Wilson family to celebrate your coronation." She opened the box, revealing an ancient silver medal—a priceless family heirloom.

Whispers rippled through the crowd. This wasn't merely a gift, but a declaration.

She's marking her territory. I tensed inside, trying to ignore the sting in my chest.

Whispers drifted through the night:

"Her fur may be beautiful, but she lacks the bloodline of an Alpha's mate."

"Why didn't he choose Mira?"

"Perhaps it's the healer's tricks. Silver-furs always have their potions and spells."

I forced myself to ignore these comments, focusing on the ceremony. The Elder raised her staff again, her voice carrying the ceremony's sanctity.

"As tradition dictates, the new Alpha will choose a female to dance with under the full moon, receiving the Moon Goddess's blessing."

The clearing fell silent. Every unmated female held her breath, and though Lucian was already bonded to me, hope still sparkled in their eyes. The mated females looked at me with pity or contempt.

He should choose me. Even if he regrets it.

Lucian's gaze swept across the crowd, finally resting on me. In that moment, his amber eyes held a complex emotion—longing? Regret? Before I could decipher it, Mira had gracefully stepped forward, taking his arm.

"Shall we honor tradition, Alpha?" her voice was sweet, yet tinged with triumph.

Lucian hesitated, his gaze meeting mine again. For a moment, I almost thought he would refuse Mira and walk toward me.

But he didn't.

He merely nodded slightly, neither encouraging nor refusing. It was enough. Lucian led Mira to the center of the clearing, moonlight cascading down like liquid silver, and the pack erupted in cheers and howls.

"Of course he chose her."

"The silver-fur never belonged here anyway."

"She'll never be our Alpha female."

The drums began again as Lucian and Mira danced in the ceremonial circle. Their movements were fluid and powerful, both ritual and display. The Elder blessed them with sacred herbs, praying for the Moon Goddess's favor.

I forced myself to stand straight, watching it all with an expressionless face.

As the dance ended, the ceremony gave way to celebration. Food, music, transformation howls and running—the pack's primal energy unleashed in the night. I remained at the edge, watching pack members surround Mira as if she were the chosen Alpha mate.

Just as I was preparing to slip away quietly, Mira approached with two glasses of wine, her smile elegant but her eyes cold.

"Seraphina," her voice was loud enough for those nearby to hear, "about the dance, I should explain that it's just a tradition, merely symbolizing friendship." She handed me a glass, her smile not reaching her eyes. "After all, Lucian and I grew up together, sharing everything. Don't misunderstand."

I calmly accepted the glass, looking directly at her. "Of course not, he is my mate."

Her smile deepened as she whispered, "Perhaps he's almost forgotten that himself. The pack certainly hopes he will."

She turned and left, leaving me standing alone at the dark edge, her poisonous words echoing in my mind.

I looked around at this pack that supposedly belonged to me, yet saw only estrangement and rejection. Even Lucian, surrounded by the crowd, never once glanced in my direction.

Without another word, I quietly turned away, leaving the firelight and laughter behind as I walked into the darkness of the forest.