There she was again, in another seemingly ordinary day — cooking meals, washing, tidying, ironing. Zaya was the Cinderella of the wolf world. She didn't know what it felt like to receive a kind gesture or a loving word. Everyone around her either ignored her or barked orders, as though her existence was irrelevant.

The youngest of the Morgando family, Zaya carried an even heavier burden as the daughter of Beta Malakor. Yet she was rejected by all, treated like a mistake the pack preferred to forget. The reason was simple — and cruel: she still hadn't shifted.

Among wolves, the first shift happens at eighteen. For Zaya, though, time had passed without mercy. At twenty, nothing had changed. No sign of her wolf. No transformation. Only looks of contempt, whispers, and the crushing weight of not belonging.

She always obeyed orders. She stayed quiet when she was insulted or even struck. She never questioned anything, because deep down she felt inferior — as if she had no right to exist beyond what was demanded of her.

And once again, there was her father, standing before the entire pack, proudly recounting how he'd defeated Lazarus, the alpha wolf who had tried to seize the territory of his alpha and friend, Balthazar. His voice rang through the great hall, heavy with glory and vanity. Few among them, however, knew what had truly happened in that war.

After the victory, Balthazar had consolidated his power, taking control of Lazarus's pack as well. To ensure no future threat would arise, he'd ordered the execution of the defeated alpha's entire family — eliminating any possibility of revenge.

His own son, Varg, had been groomed from an early age to lead and govern with an iron fist, trained by Malakor, the beta — loyal accomplice in every decision the alpha made. Varg took command of the Western Pack, while his father claimed the newly conquered Rising Sun Pack, a more fertile land cut through by a crystalline river that symbolized prosperity and power.

Smiles spread across faces. Applause echoed through the hall each time Malakor retold the story, as though the violence he described was something to be proud of.

Everyone clapped.

Except Zaya.

With every detail he told, her stomach turned. To Zaya, this wasn't a story of honor. It was a story of cruelty.

Unable to stay a moment longer, she slipped out of the great hall in silence. The instant she crossed the doorway, she came face to face with her half-sister, Freya.

"Where do you think you're going? Don't you know you're supposed to serve everyone? You can't run from your job, Zaya. It's what you were born for — to serve." Freya's voice was sharp with reproach.

"Freya... I just wanted to rest for a little while..." she tried, her voice breaking. "And—"

"Absolutely not. Get back in there. You're not leaving until the party's over."

Zaya lowered her head, swallowing the pain, and returned in silence — obeying her sister's command.

Tears slid down her face as she walked. She didn't want this life.

Deep in her chest, a question echoed — painful and unanswered:

Why had the Moon Goddess chosen her to suffer so much?

Hours passed. The young woman was exhausted; her feet ached, burning with every step. All Zaya wanted was to crawl back to the basement — the place where she slept, by order of her stepmother, an arrangement her father had never once questioned. Her meals came from scraps, as though even food was a privilege she didn't deserve.

By the time she finally finished, the great hall was already empty. The party had ended long ago.

Zaya stepped outside and walked through the village in silence, feeling the cold wind against her tired face. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself absorb the strength that flowed from the nearby forest. Then she began to sing, softly.

It was the only remedy she knew for the wounds in her soul.

That was when a voice cut through the night.

"Where do you think you're going, Zaya?" Natasha sneered — one of the she-wolves in Freya's circle, always trailing in Alpha Varg's shadow.

She was flanked by other young wolves, males and females known for their cruelty, always eager to humiliate anyone they deemed weaker.

"The party's not over yet. We want more drinks."

Zaya drew a deep breath before answering, her voice unsteady:

"Haven't you... haven't you all had enough? Everyone's already gone home, and—"

"How dare you question me? Have you forgotten whose daughter I am? Freya and I are the most important she-wolves in this pack. I'm going to teach you some respect... and remind you of your place." Natasha advanced as she spoke.

Without warning, Natasha lunged at Zaya. The first blow made her stagger. The second sent her crashing to the ground. Each impact drove the air from her lungs.

All around them — laughter.

Alpha Varg watched with a satisfied grin, along with his friends, who treated the scene as entertainment.

"Go easy on her, Nat. Don't forget she's weak and worthless. Can't have you killing our little servant." Freya's tone was ice-cold.

Zaya tried to stand, but was shoved back down.

"Don't worry, Freya. I just want to have a little fun." Natasha laughed.

"Anyone else want in?"

Another she-wolf stepped forward, kicking Zaya as she curled up, trying to shield her face. Hands yanked at her, shoves knocked her down again. Every blow came with laughter, insults, and contempt.

And then Freya joined in.

Without hesitation, she delivered a hard slap that snapped Zaya's head to the side.

"Stand up when someone important is talking to you," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

Zaya stayed on the ground, her body aching, her heart aching worse.

None of them tried to stop it.

None of them felt guilty.

In this pack, her pain was nothing but a spectacle.

"And that necklace? Who gave you the right to wear it?" Natasha asked with a grin.

Zaya's hand went to her chest instinctively, shielding the small pendant.

"It's mine... It was my mother's," she answered, her voice trembling.

Natasha's laugh was cruel.

"Your mother? That traitor who tried to take the Luna's place? Who dared to want what wasn't hers and left behind a daughter as weak as you?"

Freya stepped closer, her gaze cold.

"Our mother gave her what she deserved. You're just paying the price for betraying the beta's true mate."

Natasha tilted her head, greed glinting in her eyes.

"That would look so much better on me."

Without warning, she ripped the necklace from Zaya's neck.

"No!" Zaya screamed.

The instant the necklace left her skin, something broke free.

Zaya's head snapped up, her heart hammering as though an ancient force had been unleashed. A devastating pain tore through her body, ripping a scream from her throat. Her bones cracked, the sound splitting the night. Her spine curved unnaturally as her hands pressed flat against the ground.

Her nails lengthened, razor-sharp, digging into the earth. Her skin burned like liquid fire.

Then the fur began to emerge.

It wasn't dark.

A dingy white — strange, unsettling — spread across her arms, climbing over her shoulders, swallowing her body. A wolf with no beauty in her.

The laughter continued.

Zaya's eyes blazed silver — wild, ancient.

She closed her eyes for a fleeting moment, feeling the power grow, take hold, claim its space. A trapped howl vibrated in her chest, heavy with pain, fury, and awakening.

When she opened them again, there was nothing human left in that gaze.

"They're all going to pay for humiliating us. For hurting you."

The voice echoed deep in Zaya's subconscious — fierce and low, like thunder trapped inside her soul.

"Who are you?" Zaya asked through the mind-link, still dazed.

"I'm Sura. Your wolf."

Sura's growl vibrated with barely contained hatred as she advanced on Natasha. Her eyes burned red with fury, bright as living coals.

"How... How did she shift? Her wolf is just as weak as she is." Freya's voice was incredulous.

"My wolf will finish you — just like I finished Zaya!" Natasha charged.

Sura leaped to attack, but something slammed into her mid-air. The impact was brutal.

Alpha Varg had launched himself at her, driving the white wolf violently into the ground. The earth shook beneath Sura's body.

Then, suddenly, he froze.

His body went rigid. His muzzle rose slowly, drawing in the air.

"What is that scent?"

His wolf stirred inside him — restless, insistent — until the word every wolf feared and desired most echoed through him, heavy with power:

"Mate..."

The murmur rippled through the crowd like wildfire.

Varg approached Sura, still sprawled on the ground.

"No! It can't be!" Freya screamed, hatred twisting her face.

"Zaya can't be your mate, Varg! She's useless! She can't be Luna!" Natasha screamed, equally outraged.

Zaya and Sura both went still. They'd felt it too — the overwhelming force of the bond tying them to the alpha.

With difficulty, Sura rose to her feet. Her body ached from the fall, every step an effort, but she pressed forward.

"Mate..." she whispered, her voice thick with hope.

She believed.

She believed that now she'd be protected. Respected. Loved.

"Don't call me that."

Varg's voice came cold, hard, laced with revulsion.

"But... we're mates..."

"I never asked for you. A weak, deformed wolf like you will never be my mate."

"Exactly, Varg. That worthless thing isn't fit to rule beside you." Freya smiled in triumph.

By then, the entire pack watched the spectacle in cruel silence.

Malakor, the Beta, stepped forward.

"What's going on here?"

"Dad... I'm the alpha's mate?" Zaya's voice cracked.

He stared at her, stunned.

"Zaya? Is that you? How did—"

"I don't want this deformed wolf as my mate, Malakor." Varg's contempt was unmistakable.

"My alpha, it's your right to choose a Luna worthy of the pack. Zaya isn't fit for that role. She doesn't have what it takes." Malakor's tone was ice.

"See, Zaya? Even Daddy knows you're worthless." Freya taunted.

"No... Dad, please..."

Voices erupted from the crowd.

"She's not fit to be our Luna!"

"Freya is the right choice!"

Varg raised his voice:

"I, Alpha Varg, before all—"

"No, please!" Zaya begged, tears streaming.

"I reject you, Zaya, as my mate." His voice was a killing blow.

A suffocating pain struck Zaya's chest, as though a dagger had been driven straight through her heart. The air left her lungs, and she screamed — but only inside — while her wolf howled in agony.

The pain of being rejected by a fated mate — the one her heart recognized as destiny — was devastating. It wasn't just sadness. It was as if her soul were being torn apart, piece by piece, by the shattered bond.

Zaya collapsed to her knees, feeling the weight of the rejection reverberate through every fiber of her being. The bond that should have shielded her now consumed her, leaving nothing but pain and emptiness.

"I won't have a weak Luna at my side. As of today, you're expelled from the Western Pack."

A deathly silence fell.

"You're a rogue now. If you return or come anywhere near the pack, you'll be sentenced to death."

"No! Dad! I won't survive alone in the forest!" Zaya screamed, desperate.

"That's your fate." Malakor's voice held no emotion.

He shifted into a massive brown wolf and, without hesitation, dragged Sura into the forest.

The white wolf's body was hurled brutally onto the cold ground.

"Daddy... please... don't abandon me..."

Malakor paused for a second, but he didn't look back.

"Don't call me that anymore. You're no longer my daughter."

Zaya was alone.

On the frozen ground.

In the darkness of the forest.

* * *

Meanwhile, Freya was speaking with her mother, away from the chaos they'd caused.

"Mom, that wretch has finally been kicked out of our lives for good."

Fiora narrowed her eyes, thoughtful.

"Who took the necklace off that worthless girl?"

Freya frowned.

"Mom, Zaya's been expelled from the pack. Why are you so worried about some insignificant necklace?"

A slow smile spread across Fiora's face, dripping with malice.

"Because that necklace was enchanted. I'm the one who gave it to her, telling her it belonged to Layla — her mother."

Freya's eyes went wide.

"Enchanted?"

"Yes. I found a witch. She cast a spell to keep Zaya from shifting."

"And if the shift ever did happen... the first time, her wolf would emerge ugly, deformed, unrecognizable. Only the second transformation would be normal." A wicked gleam shone in her eyes.

Freya swallowed hard, impressed.

"Can you imagine if she hadn't been expelled? The shame it would've brought on the pack?"

Freya smiled, full of admiration.

"You're incredible, Mom."

"It was Natasha who ripped the necklace off. And now Zaya will never come back."

Fiora's grin widened.

"She won't survive the forest."

"She'll die alone. Hurt, weak... with no one to help her."

The two exchanged a knowing look.

And smiled.

Convinced they had won.

* * *

While her sister and wicked stepmother celebrated Zaya's destruction, she lay on the cold ground, swallowed by the silent darkness of the forest.

In her trembling hands, she still held the necklace.

The same necklace she'd believed, until that moment, had belonged to her mother.

Tears fell without end.

We're not going to die, Zaya. You need to find out what they did to your mother... and make them all pay for it. Sura's voice echoed firm in her mind.

Zaya closed her eyes, feeling the weight of loneliness crush her chest.

"We don't have anyone left, Sura. We have nowhere to go."

A brief silence.

Then the wolf answered, quieter, darker:

There is one place.

Our last option.

Zaya swallowed hard.

Where?

The answer came heavy with mystery and danger:

The Darkness Pack.

"Sura... So we only have two options. We die here in the forest... or we die at the hands of Shadow, the Alpha of the Darkness Pack. Is that it?"

Maybe he can help us, Sura replied, cautious.

Zaya let out a bitter laugh.

"I'm a rogue now. And how do you know so much about the Darkness Pack? Nobody dares enter the dark side of the forest. Anyone who has... was never seen again."

Sura was quiet for a moment before answering.

"I was only dormant, Zaya... But I could hear everything that happened around us."

"I heard that the Alpha of Shadows recruits rogues to build an army."

"And that he plans to seize all the power someday."

That could just be rumors, Zaya murmured.

"It could. But still... it's our last option."

Zaya closed her eyes, feeling the emptiness that consumed her.

"Fine. We've got nothing left to lose. I have nothing left in this life, Sura. It doesn't matter if he kills us or not."

The reply came firm, almost protective.

Don't say that.

You have me.

"And you have yourself."

And that's enough.

"Lucky for us, it rained yesterday. We need to hide our scent. The forest is full of dangers."

Before Zaya could respond, Sura took over. The white wolf's body dropped to the ground, rolling through the soaked earth, coating her fur in thick mud until her scent was nearly impossible to track.

Sura, wait!

The wolf stopped and turned her head.

What is it, Zaya?

Zaya's gaze fell on the necklace lying on the ground.

"My mother's necklace... It's all I have left of her."

Sura padded closer, lowered her head, and carefully picked up the necklace between her teeth — as though it were something sacred.

Then she started walking.

Every step was cautious.

Every sound in the forest made her muscles tense.

Zaya felt her heart pounding, aware that ahead of them there was no promise of salvation — only the unknown, and the slim chance of surviving it.

After a long trek, Sura finally gave in to exhaustion. She sat beneath the canopy of a great tree, her body heavy, her breathing slow. Hunger burned in her stomach and thirst scorched her throat, but there was nothing to eat or drink anywhere nearby.

We need to eat, Zaya, or we won't be able to keep going, Sura said weakly.

Zaya felt a knot tighten in her chest.

"What are we going to do, Sura?"

The wolf's ears shot up, suddenly alert.

"Wait... I hear something. Behind that tree."

Sura crept forward with care, peering through the shadows.

There, near a fallen trunk, a deer fed undisturbed, oblivious to the danger.

The wolf's eyes gleamed.

"This is our chance, Zaya."

Zaya's heart hammered.

You want me to kill that deer? It's innocent. It didn't do anything to deserve dying. The horror in Zaya's thoughts was raw.

"Zaya, this is the law of survival. We're wolves. Carnivores. That deer is our food."

Don't do it, Sura! I forbid you. I want to go back to my human form. Zaya pleaded.

A brief silence.

Then Sura answered, her tone grave:

"Do you want to know what really happened to your mother?"

Zaya swallowed hard.

Yes... I do.

"Then we need to survive. Whatever it takes."

Sura began to close the distance, each step calculated to keep her hidden. She was just a few feet from the deer when, out of nowhere, a grey wolf emerged from the shadows like a phantom.

In one swift, brutal motion, it drove its fangs into the animal, dropping it to the ground in an instant.

The deer never had a chance to react.

Sura flinched back, instinctively ducking into the bushes, her heart racing.

The forest had made something clear:

They were not alone.

"If you want, I can share." The grey wolf growled, his muzzle still smeared with fresh blood.

"I already spotted you, she-wolf. Don't think you're hidden from me."

Sura hesitated for a moment before stepping out from behind the bushes. Her body stayed tense, coiled to attack or flee, depending on what came next.

"Come closer. Aren't you hungry?"

Sura's stomach answered before she could think. With careful steps, she moved in closer, until she finally lowered her head and began eating from the deer, sharing the kill with the grey wolf.

The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the sound of tearing flesh.

After a few moments, the wolf spoke:

"My name's Zack. What's yours?" He watched her as he said it.

"Sura."

Zack tilted his head slightly, thoughtful.

"Sura... It means 'brilliant.' A being of light."

"So tell me — how does someone with that name end up a rogue?"

The question landed like a silent blow.

Sura drew a deep breath before answering:

"I was rejected by my mate."

The air around them seemed to grow heavier.

In that instant, Zack understood: the white wolf wasn't just carrying hunger or exhaustion. She carried a deep wound — the kind that changes destinies.

"And you?" Sura asked, raising her blood-streaked gaze.

Zack let out a short, quiet laugh.

"What about me?"

"Why did you become a rogue?"

He moved a little distance from the carcass, wiping his muzzle with his paw.

"Actually... I'm not a rogue. I just like to roam around, hunt in the forest. It's a hobby of mine, you know?" A half-grin crossed his face.

Sura eyed him, suspicious.

"Kidding." His tone sobered. "I was expelled for daring to challenge the alpha's son."

Sura's eyes narrowed, intent.

"Since I'm the son of the alpha's brother, killing me would've started an internal war. So my uncle chose to expel me instead."

"His son and I never got along. We never followed the same rules... and that always came with a price."

A brief silence settled.

Sura realized then that beneath his casual tone, they shared something: both had been cast out for daring to exist on their own terms.

"Where are you headed, Zack?" Sura studied him carefully.

He shrugged.

"Nowhere. I'd rather stay around here. This stretch of the forest is quieter — far from other creatures and bigger dangers. If you want to survive, you should do the same."

Sura took a deep breath before she answered.

"I need to get to the Darkness Pack."

Zack froze.

"The Darkness Pack? You've got to be kidding me." His disbelief was plain.

Sura raised her head and met his eyes directly.

"No. I'm not."