No scent

..

A year ago

River had watched Keith from afar, her pulse quickening. He was Yorick’s friend, yes, and the next Alpha of the neighbouring pack—but today, he had asked to meet her on the playground, alone. Her heart whispered that perhaps… maybe he wanted her as his chosen mate.

But those hopes shattered the instant he spoke.

“I, Keith Moonshine, Alpha of the Moonshine Pack, hereby dissolve my bond with you, River Whiteclaw. I no longer recognize you as my Mate or as the future Luna of this pack,” Keith declared, his voice so cold it could freeze every spine in the area.

The words sliced through River like a blade. No… this couldn’t be real. He wouldn’t. Not there. Not like that.

“Keith… what do you mean by this?” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her throat felt raw, as if her body already knew the answer would rip her apart.

Keith’s face was carved from stone.

“Your brother once told me you had no sense of smell. When I first scented you, I knew immediately you were my Fated Mate. You couldn't even recognize me. That should have been my first warning. And today, the moment I saw you again, I realized you weren’t made for me.” His jaw tightened, the words tasting like poison on his tongue.

River’s stomach twisted. He had known. He had known from the start—and still, he despised her for it.

He stared into her tear-streaked face, his expression unreadable, though inside, his wolf snarled in fury at him. Had the Moon Goddess truly chosen her? How could a woman so weak, so flawed, ever be Luna of his pack? Worse—how could she, unable even to scent, be the mother of his heirs? An Alpha required strength, not weakness.

“You will never be my Luna,” he growled. “A Luna must be flawless. And you are not.”

Tears stung River’s eyes. Her fists trembled, nails biting into her palms, and her ears burned hot with rage. Flawed? Because of something I could not change? Because of something the Moon Goddess herself allowed?

“You don’t want me because I can’t smell?” Her voice cracked, then sharpened with fury. “Well, I don’t want you because you’re an arrogant, insufferable prick!”

She wiped her tears away with her sleeve, though her hands shook, and lifted her chin despite the weakness flooding her limbs. “I, River Whiteclaw of the Whiteclaw Pack, accepte your rejection. I would rather be alone for a hundred years than be Luna to you.”

The instant the words left her mouth, agony slammed into her chest. Her knees buckled. It felt like her heart was shattering into dust… like she had been hollowed out and left with nothing but pain.

Keith staggered too, clutching his chest, but he forced the pain down. He swallowed it and left her to drown in hers, alone in the rain.

Half an hour later, River was still curled on the soaked earth. Her sobs were hoarse now, her body heavy with grief. She reached for Rain, but her wolf was silent.

Please don’t leave me too. I can’t lose you as well.

No response. Just a void. Rain’s silence was worse than the rejection—it felt like her very soul had abandoned her. She was born to be Luna. To guide. To belong. Now what was she? Nothing. Empty.

Meanwhile, her brother Yorick lounged on the sofa with the television on, a bag of crisps within reach. He grabbed a handful, but nearly spilled them when the front door burst open and his old school friend stormed in.

“Keith?” Yorick shot to his feet. “What’s going on—and where’s my sister?”

Keith avoided his gaze, mumbling, “I wouldn’t know.” He stared at the puddles forming around his sneakers rather than meet Yorick’s eyes.

Yorick’s patience snapped. He had looked forward to seeing Keith all weekend, to the easy friendship they had shared since childhood. But the man standing before him now was a stranger—cold, arrogant, insufferable.

“Where is she?” Yorick pressed, his voice edged with a growl.

Keith jutted his chin, pretending strength he didn’t feel, though the sting of rejection gnawed inside him. His eyes flicked to the window, where rain lashed against the glass.

The meaning clicked in Yorick’s mind. His wolf snarled, teeth bared. “She’s out there? In the rain? What the hell have you done?”

“I rejected that mongrel,” Keith spat, his words low and vicious.

Yorick’s blood boiled, heat rising in his chest. He seized Keith by the collar, shaking him, baring his fangs. “You did what?” he growled, voice raw with disbelief.

“I rejected River… She was my Fated Mate,” Keith said, his tone flat, as if stating a fact could excuse his cruelty.

“You rejected my sister?” Yorick’s hands tightened, knuckles white. “Selene herself paired you, and you dared defy her? You should be grateful I care more about my sister than ripping you apart…otherwise you wouldn’t still be standing.”

Keith stumbled back from the force of Yorick’s grip, but his eyes were cold, unflinching. Yorick shoved him, fury boiling over, and stormed into the night, the rain pelting down around him as if the heavens themselves raged alongside him.

Heavy rain poured down as Yorick followed the faint, familiar scent of his sister. Something River herself would never be able to do.

He found her curled on the sodden grass, trembling.

“River?” He crouched, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Through choked sobs, she gasped, “He rejected me.”

Her own voice sounded foreign to her, like it belonged to someone else. Rejected. The word alone felt like poison in her mouth.

“I know, little sister,” Yorick said softly, fury tightening his jaw. “Come on. You’ll catch your death out here.” He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away.

“I don’t want your help.” Her defiance was hollow, her body too weak to back it up. She didn’t want pity. She didn’t want anyone to see her broken like this.

“Still, I’m taking you with me.” His tone brooked no argument. He scooped her up effortlessly, and she finally leaned into his warmth, too tired to fight.

As Yorick carried her back, River pressed her face to his chest. She should have felt safe. But all She fell was emptiness. If even her Mate wouldn’t want her, how could she ever belong?

Once River was settled on her bed, Yorick stormed down the hall, his mind blazing with a single thought.

Who did Keith think he was—to wound my sister, to defy Selene?

He pounded on the guest room door. Keith answered, and Yorick’s fury erupted.

“Do you think it was normal to reject your Fated Mate?” he roared. “The Goddess doesn’t make mistakes!”

Before Keith could answer, Alpha Wolfgang himself stormed past Yorick, his own fury unleashed.

“What have you done?” Wolfgang thundered.

Keith staggered backward, collapsing onto the mattress, fear sweating from his skin as the two men towered over him.