Chapter 1

1

Rylan Stone stood at the edge of the clearing, his eyes fixed on the setting sun. The fiery hues of orange and crimson bled into the horizon, casting long shadows over the dense forest that surrounded the Ironwood Wolf Pack's territory. The air was thick with the scents of sizzling meats and sweet pastries, mingling with the earthy musk of shifters in mid-shift and the heady aroma of hope for romance, all swirling together under the glow of the moon.

A heavy weight pressed against Rylan's chest, a familiar ache that had grown heavier with each passing year. For thirty years, he had attended every full moon festival. He had watched as others—children, teens, even a few elders who had given up hope—found their mates under the silvery glow of the full moon. He had seen the way their eyes lit up with recognition, the way their bodies instinctively moved closer, drawn by the invisible pull of the mating bond.

For him, there had been nothing. No tug, no spark, no connection that signaled the presence of his fated mate.

Rylan had stopped going to the festivals as of last year after he formally took over the pack from his father. It was easier to bury himself in work, to focus on building the pack's wealth and securing its future. The Ironwood Wolf Pack was expanding, their territory growing enough to absorb a smaller but still fierce pack to the north. With the acquisition of new land came new responsibilities, new challenges. There was just one catch.

A rustle in the underbrush caught his attention. Rylan's heightened senses immediately honed in on the source of the sound. His hand instinctively moved to the hilt of the knife strapped to his thigh, the cool leather handle a familiar comfort against his palm.

Emerging from the darkness was a figure he recognized immediately—Micah Vance, the Alpha of the Sequoia pack. The elder shifter moved with a grace that belied his years, the silver-gray of his hair catching the dim light of the setting sun. Though time had etched lines into his face, there was no mistaking the strength that still resided in the old Alpha. Rylan knew he could take Micah in a fight if it ever came to that, but he was also certain he wouldn't leave the battle unscathed.

"Alpha," greeted Micah.

"None of that. We're equals."

"Rylan, then." Micah's voice was a low rumble that carried the weight of years and the authority of a leader.

"Micah," Rylan replied, inclining his head respectfully. The tension between them was less about distrust and more about the gravity of the decision they had made—one that would shape the future of both their packs.

They stood in silence for a moment, the sounds of the festival in the distance—laughter, music, the crackle of fires—filling the space between them.

"I've never seen our lands from this vantage point," said Micah, his gaze sweeping northward over the Moonridge Mountains.

The dense, dark canopy of Ironwood trees stretched out beneath them, gradually giving way to the towering majesty of Sequoias, their colossal trunks rising like ancient sentinels against the horizon, their rust-colored bark glowing faintly in the soft light. The contrast between the shadowed Ironwoods and the sunlit Sequoias created a breathtaking tapestry of nature's resilience and grandeur.

"We're going to make it even better. You'll have first pick of homes in the new development, of course."

Micah gave a nod of gratitude. "We'll sign the land deed in the morning. After the festival's over, and after you've had a chance to meet her."

Rylan nodded, though the thought of meeting Micah's daughter—a woman he was destined to marry yet felt no connection to—left a heavy feeling in his gut. "Where is she now?"

Micah's gaze flickered toward the direction of the festival grounds. "She wanted to enjoy the festival."

One last chance to see if she sensed her fated mate? Perhaps she wasn't so keen on this arranged marriage between them. He understood the desire to find that elusive bond, the one he had searched in vain for for so many years. Part of him almost hoped Celine Vance did find it tonight. It would complicate things, certainly, but it would also free them both from a fate neither truly wanted.

However, Rylan knew better. He had come to terms with his own reality, the knowledge that the bond he longed for would never be his. He had resigned himself to making the best of this match, to bringing as much happiness to Celine as he could, even if she wasn't the one his wolf had chosen.

"Not everyone gets their fated mate," Micah continued, as if reading the thoughts on Rylan's face. "I didn't feel the bond with my wife when we married, but we built something strong, something that lasted. Love isn't always about fate, Rylan. Sometimes it's about choice."

Rylan's eyes met Micah's, seeing the truth in the elder Alpha's words. There was wisdom there, hard-earned and tested by time. It didn't lessen the weight of the decision that lay ahead.

"I know," Rylan replied, his voice rougher than he intended. He forced himself to take a breath, the cool night air filling his lungs. "We'll make this work."

Micah placed a hand on Rylan's shoulder. "You will."

They stood for a moment. Micah looked to the north. Rylan's gaze was on his lands, at the border where the expansion would begin. It was a project that his father had started before his decline after his mother had passed. Joseph Stone hadn't lasted much longer after his wife had died. The two were fated mates. One of the things his father had left Rylan, aside from big shoes to fill, was this project. Rylan was now close to completing the expansion.

The moment passed. Micah turned to leave, his steps fading into the night. Rylan watched him go, the old Alpha's words lingering in his mind, intertwining with his own doubts and fears.

He glanced toward the festival grounds, where the sounds of celebration were growing louder. The full moon was beginning to rise and cast its silver light over the world. Somewhere among the revelers was the woman he was destined to marry. He wondered what Celine was feeling, if she shared his sense of resignation or if she still held on to hope for something more.

As Rylan made his way toward the festival, the sights and sounds enveloped him—the flicker of firelight, the laughter of the pack, the mingling scents of food, sweat, and pine. But beneath it all was the steady beat of his heart, the thrum of something deeper that he couldn't quite shake.

He would meet his future mate tonight, and tomorrow they would seal the deal that would unite their packs. He would do his duty, as he always had. And maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to be content with that.