I was in shock. The intensity of the mating bond, the sharp pain that came with it, and Sebastian—standing next to me, trying to reassure me—was too much to process all at once.

He reached out for me, but I instinctively pulled away, my mind racing with old fears. What if he got sick just by touching me?

"Mabel, it's okay," he said softly, like he was speaking to a frightened animal. "I'm not going to hurt you. We're mates now."

"No, it's me who could hurt you," I whispered, my eyes drifting down to the worn dress I had picked up from a thrift store that might be covered in dust or dander. "I don't want you to get sick."

His expression softened, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "I'm not sick anymore. I got better."

I blinked at him, disbelief clouding my mind. This couldn't be the same Sebastian. The boy I remembered was fragile, broken. But this man? He was too normal, too healthy. A sliver of suspicion crept in—had Hector replaced his real son with someone else?

But there was no mistaking those blue eyes—it was him and not some stranger.

Sebastian, calm and patient, dragged a chair out from behind his desk. "Here, sit down."

Gratefully, I sank into the chair, my head still spinning from the pain of the bond settling in.

Sebastian knelt beside me, his striking blue eyes locked on mine. Goddess, he was handsome—more than I could have imagined after all those years.

He placed a steady hand on my shoulder, the touch gentle, grounding.

"Breathe with me, Mabel," he murmured, his voice soft but commanding as he inhaled deeply.

I followed his lead, drawing in slow breaths, exhaling as the sharp pain dulled into a more bearable ache. Little by little, the panic subsided, and I felt more in control.

"There you go," he whispered, his eyes never leaving mine, as if he could will the pain away just by being close. "Would you like a glass of water?"

"I don't think a glass of water is going to help this," I replied, pressing a hand to my temple, attempting to ward off an oncoming headache.

"Perhaps a cold compress? If your head hurts," he suggested, reaching out to touch my hand.

I pulled away, rising up and positioning myself behind the chair.

Sebastian raised a bemused eyebrow and enquired, "Do you need a moment for yourself?"

"No," I replied unsteadily. "I just need a moment to think."

"This must be a lot to process. I'm feeling overwhelmed too," he admitted, a faint smile crossing his lips. "It's a surprise. A pleasant one."

I stared at him, dumbstruck. Was he stupid? How could this be a pleasant surprise? He was mated to a never wolf. No one in his pack would ever accept me as his luna— they barely accepted me as an outsider.

Sebastian read my expression and frowned.

"Are you not happy?" he asked.

"Why would I be happy?" I snapped. "Do you know what this pack did to me?"

It was a rhetorical question, and of course Sebastian knew what happened to me. He would have heard all about the sad tale of the beta's daughter who was thrown out on the streets for failing to shift.

"I'm truly sorry for what my father did to you. I wish I could have been there to stop him," he said.

The sincerity in his voice dampened my anger. It wasn't his fault that his father had thrown me up. Nor was it his fault that we were mates. I guess what angered me was the damned inconvenience of it all.

I was a lone wolf girly, doing my own thing. I had grown accustomed to living life outside a pack. I didn't want to be tied down to a mate.

"Look, let's get through the wedding and pretend this," I said, gesturing between us, "Never happened."

"But it did happen, Mabel. We can't ignore our bond," he said, pragmatically.

"And you can't be mated to a never wolf," I retorted, throwing up my hands. "I'm only here for my sister's wedding. Once today is over, I will leave the ranch, and you can forget we ever met."

The muscles in Sebastian's jaw twitched at the mention of leaving the ranch. His pale blue eyes hardened, pinning me to the spot. "So, your answer is to run away from us?"

"There is no us. I'm a lone wolf. I live alone," I replied.

"Are you really willing to endure the pain that comes from being separated from your mate?" Sebastian asked.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I gave a half-shrug.

"I don't see any other options here. It's not like I'm a proper wolf. The rest of the pack would never acknowledge me as luna. You're best cutting your losses."

I wanted to sound reasonable and pragmatic, but I couldn't stop the slight tremble in my voice. Saying these things and discussing leaving Sebastian hurt.

Sebastian glanced away, the wheels of his mind turning.

"I will not trap you here," he said softly, quickly adding "I am not my father. You are free to leave, although I will warn you that this newly forged bond between us will do everything in its power to stop us from separating."

"I'll endure it," I said.

"Sure you will," he replied, with a pleasant smile that seemed to say 'I don't believe you'. "But until then, I ask you to attend the wedding as my date."

"I don't think that's a good idea," I said cautiously.

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea? If I'm about to lose the love of my life, then at least allow me one lousy date to remember you by," he said with a casual shrug.

"How about I give you one dance at the wedding?" I suggested, attempting to reach a compromise. "That will give you a pleasant memory to remember me by, and the rest of the pack will think you are being charitable to the poor, never wolf."

"One dance? Mabel, I'm your mate. I want to spend every—"

I raised my hand, cutting him off. "One dance. Leave it or take it," I said firmly.

Sebastian heaved a sigh and said, "Fine, I'll take it."

"Good. I'll leave you to deal with your missing sister and I'll see you at the wedding reception," I said, briskly walking towards the door.

Sebastian watched me leaving in disbelief. "Where are you going?"

"Back to the office. My brother can never know that this happened," I said, maintaining my stride.

I opened the door and found Julianne pretending she wasn't eavesdropping. I bowed my head respectfully and hurried past her. She watched me go with a rueful smile and then hastened into the office to pester her son for details.

A mate—I had a mate.

I swallowed down a nervous laugh. How could the universe have gotten this so wrong?

Sebastian was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. His territory stretched beyond the ranch, across the mountain valley, encompassing multiple farms, ranches, factories, and a whole town. Why on earth did the Goddesses choose me to be his mate—an exile who couldn't even turn into a wolf?

It felt like the universe was playing a cruel prank on me, as if being hated by my pack and family wasn't enough. They had given me a mate I could never be with.

For a moment, I wished I'd never come back to Cedar Falls. I could have stayed home and spent the rest of my life blissfully unaware that Sebastian Cross was my mate.

But, I had come home for a reason. Amber was in trouble, and while I could happily turn my back on my pack, and even my mate, I wouldn't turn my back on her.

I would help Amber and return home—and Sebastian Cross would have to find another girl to be his luna.

I rushed back into the office, attempting to maintain a calm composure. It was challenging when my thoughts kept circling back to Sebastian, causing my heart to quicken and my cheeks to flush.

Eventually, my brother, Rollo, came to collect me. He opened the office door and gestured for me to follow him.

"You'll be sitting on the back row, next to the florist and the wedding planner," Sebastian explained, leading me towards the foyer. "Amber will catch up with you at the reception, so until then, try to keep a low profile."

"I got it," I said.

"If anyone asks who you are, say you are a distant cousin from up north," he said.

I suppressed a groan. Rollo really didn't want me to be here.

"Oh, and don't get offended if Mother pretends she doesn't know who you are. She is worried about making a bad impression on Amber's new in-laws," he added.

"Sure," I said.

Rollo droned on with more dos and don'ts, but my focus had wandered.

Ahead of us, an elderly woman pushed her frail husband in a wheelchair through the foyer. Two medical attendants trailed behind them, one carrying an oxygen canister, the other a medical bag.

The old man sat slumped to one side wheelchair, half-asleep, his jaw hanging open.

His wife paused and pulled out a hanky to wipe some spittle away from his mouth. As she leaned over him, I caught the translucent outline of a black shadowy mass protruded out the old man's aura like a tumour.

An icy chill swept over me.

It was a Death Shade.

It had been a while since I had last seen a death shade. My steps slowed as I fixated on the death shade. No one else could see it—it was only me who could see these strange shadows of death that clung to the auras of the soon to be deceased.

My talent, or rather curse, was unique amongst the pack. In a collective of hunters, healers, guardians, and fighters, I was the odd one out—the spooky one.

No one in the history of our pack had ever reported seeing these strange omens of death.

I had been seven years old when I saw my first Death Shade clinging to my sister's aura. We had been getting ready to attend my cousin's birthday party by the lake, when I saw the black spectre hovering over my sister's shoulder.

I was terrified and refused to get into the car. My sister had yelled at me, furious that we were going to be late for the special boat road my Aunt had arranged for the children. But still I refused to budge.

Eventually the Death Shade faded from view, and my mother was able to convince me to get into the car.

We drove down to the lake side and came upon a terrible scene. The boat we had meant to board had overturned, drowning two children.

After that day, things changed for me. Hector upon hearing about my uncanny premonition grew cold towards me. The pack soon followed suit, quietly ignoring me. I remember seeing the agony in my mother's face when Amber would arrive home from class with a birthday invite, and I would arrive home from the same class empty handed.

It was an unspoken rule that I was not to bring up the topic of the Death Shades. So, it didn't surprise me when Rollo, after catching me staring at the elderly man, hissed, "It's your sister's wedding. For God's sake, don't start with that weird stuff again."

I blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the haunting sight.

"I'm sorry, I can't help it," I apologised.

Avoiding eye contact, I followed Rollo into the wedding hall, and settled into the back row. The old man in the wheelchair was parked a few rows up, with the death shade hovering over him.

I tried not to look up, focusing instead on my hands in my lap.

I despised this ability.

The last of the wedding guests settled into their seats, and the priestess's call prompted the crowd to rise. As the initial chords of the wedding march filled the air, I stood up.

The doors swung open, revealing a procession of bridesmaids, led by my brother. Sebastian shortly followed and his footsteps faltered as he caught sight of me. A smile lit up his face as our eyes connected. My cheeks flushed in response, and I averted my gaze.

He shouldn't have done that. The other wedding guests would have noticed our exchange.

Fortunately, my sister's grand bridal entrance diverted the attention of the guests.

Gasps and murmurs of admiration filled the air as she took her first steps up the aisle.

She was a vision in white—absolutely stunning. Tears filled my eyes. She was so beautiful.

She glided past me, escorted by our father.

Neither of them acknowledged me.

As the doors closed behind the bridal procession, the priestess instructed us to be seated.

For the next hour, we listened to the exchange of vows between my sister and her groom. All was going well, until the priestess presiding over the wedding started to talk about mates.

"Listen to me, Children of the Moon. A mate is a gift from the Goddesses themselves. There is no greater joy than finding one's other half," she harped on.

With every mention of the word mate, I sank further into my seat, guilt clawing at my insides.

It was true, not every wolf was lucky enough to find a mate—but not every wolf was like me. I couldn't shift. I couldn't hunt. I would never be able to run with Sebastian in wolf form through the forest. Our mating would never work.

The ceremony eventually reached its climax, marked by the much-awaited kiss between Amber and her groom.

The room erupted in cheers and applause and the bride and groom swept out of the hall, leading the procession of wedding guests back into the foyer for champagne and nibbles.

In the foyer, the air hummed with noise and chatter. People clinked their glasses, toasting the happy couple, while my family moved through the crowd, thanking each of the guests for attending Amber's wedding.

I waited, thinking that they would come to see me eventually—but no one came.

I moved through the crowd, wondering where Sebastian was.

I couldn't stop thinking about Sebastian, no matter how hard I tried to forget him. The mating bond was playing games with my mind and body. My dress felt too tight. The room was too noisy. The temperature was too hot. Every particle of me was uncomfortable and restless. The mating bond had reduced me to a hormonal horny mess.

Matters only worsened, when I spotted Sebastian making his way through the crowd.

He was meeting and mingling with the other wedding guests, engaging in small talk, pretending not to notice me.

I wondered if the mating bond affected him in the same way as it affected me.

Was he burning up from the inside?

Did his insides feel like an electrical storm caught up in a tornado?

Judging by his cool, collected appearance—no.

Maybe the mating bond affected women differently. With each passing moment, I felt more and more like a cat in heat.

Nothing seemed to ease my discomfort except for the thought of giving in and satisfying the mating bond with Sebastian.

I started to fan myself with an open hand.

I needed to stop thinking about Sebastian and cool down—but then a wave of heat prickled across my skin.

I lifted my eyes and saw Sebastian watching me from across the room.

My pulse quickened, and my mouth ran dry as I started to fantasise about what might happen if I were to cross the room and go to him.

I imagined myself approaching him, running my hands up his jacket lapels, feeling the fabric of his suit beneath my fingertips and the warmth of his body.

The corners of my mouth twitched into a sly smile as I pictured tunnelling my fingers through his dark blonde hair and leaning up to press my lips against his in a kiss.

Sebastian's eyes darkened, as if he could read my mind. He stared at me, daring me to come to him and make that fantasy come true.

I took a step forward and then stopped myself.

Fury burned through me, at him and myself. I wasn't a cat in heat—I had self-control.

I lowered my eyes, breaking the stare, and turned on my heel, retreating to another part of the room.

I grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server and downed it in a few gulps. The cool liquid was refreshing but did nothing to ease my nerves.

I was still on fire.

I lingered in a quiet corner of the reception party, trying to ignore my thoughts of Sebastian.

Eventually, a server approached me and gestured for me to follow him. We wound our way through the wedding party to a distant side room, far from the main celebrations.

In the room, stood my sister, veil in hand, mascara streaking down her face.

"Amber?" I called out to her softly. "What's wrong? I got your message."

Amber turned towards me and broke down crying—and I mean crying, not the delicate sniffle but full on, red eyed, snot bubbles, sobbing.

She flung her arms around me and buried her face into my shoulder.

"I screwed up so badly—like so fucking hard," she sobbed into my dress.

"It's okay, we'll figure it out," I replied, wrapping a comforting arm around her.

She abruptly pulled away from me and started twirling on her heel.

"Can you see anything on me?" she asked frantically.

For a moment, I thought she might have a bug or a spider, but there was nothing out of place that I could see, so I shook my head.

"No, you look perfect," I replied.

Amber's face twisted in despair and she reached out, grabbing my shoulders fiercely.

"I need you to look at me, really look at me, Mabel," she said.

Her voice was urgent, almost pleading. I couldn't understand her distress.

"Amber, I'm going to need you to be more specific," I urged calmly.

"Am I going to die?" she sobbed.