Chapter One — Banished
Keya:
Heartbreak, I thought, would be loud—like the scream of metal in a head-on crash.
Sharp—like a dagger sliding between my ribs.
But this?
This is worse. Silent. Sudden. Like falling into a dream I can’t wake from.
A week ago, we stood in this same ballroom. His arm around my waist, my head pressed to his chest, the thrum of his heartbeat promising safety. He painted me a future in that warm, steady voice. Fated or not, he’d told me, you’ll be the one for me.
Now, with the moon’s blessing still warm in my veins, he’s rejecting me.
The chandeliers above shimmer with a thousand white lights, but all I see is his face—hard, unreadable. The scent of pine and cedar from his Alpha regalia still clings to my nose, a cruel echo of how close we were only hours ago.
“No!”
The word rips from my throat. I shake my head, stumbling forward until my knees hit the polished floor. My hands clutch the hem of his robes like they’re the only thing keeping me upright. “You can’t do this, Luca. You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking.”
Gasps ripple through the crowd. The music from the mate ball dies mid-note. Somewhere, someone whispers my name like it’s already a curse.
Luca’s mouth curves—not in the smile I know, but in something colder. The corners of his eyes crease as he lets out a short, dry laugh. Relief blooms in me for a second. He’s joking. He has to be.
I start to smile back—
And his hand clamps around my throat.
The force sends a burst of black spots across my vision. I claw at his wrist, the scent of his skin—once my comfort—now suffocating me. The ballroom spins.
He leans down, his lips brushing my ear, voice low enough for only me to hear.
“Listen, you daughter of a whore.”
My stomach drops. He’s never spoken to me like this. Never looked at me like this. His eyes widen with each word, jaw tightening until the veins stand out in his neck.
“I, Luca Lombardo, of Lake View Pack,” his voice rises, carrying to every corner of the hall, “reject you, Keya Carson, as my mate and Luna.”
And then I’m on the floor. My dress pools around me, the white silk crumpled and stained from where I landed. Gasps break like waves around me. I can feel every stare—pity, disgust, satisfaction.
“Why?” My voice cracks, the question spilling out with the hot sting of tears. “We were happy this morning. You—don’t you remember waking up beside me?”
He clenches his jaw. His lips tremble—only for a second—before his gaze cuts past me.
“That was before I saw that.”
I turn.
The giant screen above the ballroom flickers. Our union ceremony—my smile, his hand on mine—disappears. In its place: grainy footage.
Me. Naked. In bed. My skin flushed, my voice moaning.
With a man I’ve never seen before.
The sound of my own breath quickens, louder than the whispers swelling around the room. My mind races. It can’t be. When? How?
“No,” I whisper, my hands flying to my mouth. “Luca, you have to believe me. I don’t know what that is.”
He hauls me up by the hair, yanking until my scalp burns. My feet barely touch the ground as he drags me toward the screen. The projector light sears my eyes.
“You don’t know what this is?” His nails dig into my skin. “This is you betraying me the night before our fated vows.”
His words hit harder than his grip. I’m shoved away, the edge of a table slamming into my thigh before I crash to the floor again. Pain blooms up my leg, sharp and immediate.
“Luca!” I scramble up, stumbling after him. My voice cracks into something raw. “Luca, please—”
A hand yanks me back, hard enough to wrench my shoulder.
“Enough of humiliating us, Keya.”
My mother. Luna of the pack. Dressed in silver and white, her hair pulled into its perfect crown. Her voice cuts through me sharper than Luca’s hands ever could.
“Mother,” I choke out. I grab her hands, clinging to them. “You have to believe me—”
She yanks free, her rings glinting in the light. “How dare you? I thought I raised you better that this.” And then her hand flies across my cheek.
The slap is loud enough for the crowd to hear. My head snaps to the side, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth.
“You are a disgrace,” she says, her voice trembling—not with sorrow, but fury. “A disappointment.”
I turn to my father. Alpha King. My last hope.
He doesn’t move toward me. Doesn’t even look at me—only nods to his guards.
I take a step forward, but they block me, their hands like iron on my arms.
“You are banished, Keya,” my father says, his voice low but carrying. “From this moment, you are not my daughter.”
For a moment, there’s silence. Then the whispers come again, a tide of venom and judgment. The hall blurs. The chandeliers smear into streaks of light as tears cloud my vision.
And then I’m being dragged toward the grand doors, the cold night waiting on the other side, while the false image of my betrayal burns on the screen behind me.