After Ninety-Nine Ceremonies, I Rejected My Mate

The silver moonlight bathed the sacred marking grounds in an ethereal glow as I stood alone for the ninety-ninth time. My white Luna gown—the same one I'd worn for every failed ceremony—fluttered gently around my ankles, the delicate fabric catching the night breeze. The clearing was perfect: ceremonial candles placed in a circle, the sacred marking stones arranged precisely as tradition demanded, moonflowers blooming in abundance. Everything was ready. Everything except my mate.

"He'll come this time," I whispered, more to convince myself than my wolf.

Luna, my silver wolf, whimpered inside my mind. *He won't. You know he won't.*

I pushed her doubt away, focusing instead on smoothing invisible wrinkles from my gown. Seven years of devotion couldn't be wrong. Seven years of supporting Ethan, of believing in him when he was nothing but a struggling rogue with dreams of building a powerful pack.

*Seven years of being second to Victoria,* Luna reminded me bitterly.

The ceremonial fire I'd lit an hour ago was already burning low. I added another log, watching the flames lick hungrily at the wood. Like my hope—constantly needing to be fed, constantly threatening to die out.

Then I felt it—the familiar pressure of Ethan's mind against mine. My heart leapt, then immediately sank as I recognized the particular texture of his thoughts. Not excitement. Not love. Apology.

*Olivia?* His voice filled my head, strong and commanding even in a mind-link. *There's been an emergency.*

I closed my eyes, my fingers instinctively reaching for the pendant he'd given me after the forty-seventh cancellation. "What is it this time?" I asked aloud, though I kept my tone gentle in our link.

*Victoria got trapped under collapsed training beams. I need to use my Alpha strength to free her. You understand, right? I can't let my Beta suffer.*

Of course. Victoria. It was always Victoria.

*I'm sending Jake with a gift. A moonstone bracelet. It's rare—just like you.*

The familiar burn of humiliation spread through my chest. Luna howled in frustration, clawing at my insides, begging me to finally acknowledge what we both knew: we would never be first in Ethan's heart.

"It's fine," I replied, forcing warmth into my voice. "Go help her. We can reschedule."

*You're amazing, Liv. The ceremony will happen next full moon. I promise. The hundredth time's the charm, right?*

His mind withdrew before I could respond. I stood frozen, staring at the carefully prepared marking stones, each one representing a promise of eternal devotion. Ninety-nine times I had arranged them. Ninety-nine times I had been disappointed.

Jake arrived minutes later, his expression a mixture of pity and discomfort as he handed me a small velvet box.

"Luna Olivia," he said, using my honorary title despite the fact that I wasn't truly Luna yet. "Alpha Ethan sends his deepest regrets."

"Thank you, Jake." I accepted the box with steady hands, though inside, Luna was thrashing against her cage of flesh and bone.

After he left, I opened the box. The moonstone bracelet gleamed in the firelight, its opalescent surface catching and reflecting the flames. Beautiful. Expensive. Meaningless.

I slipped it onto my wrist anyway, watching how it complemented the ninety-eight other apology gifts I wore: earrings, necklaces, rings—a collection of beautiful trinkets that marked each broken promise.

"The hundredth time," I whispered to myself, gathering the edges of my gown as I prepared to leave the sacred grounds. "The hundredth time will be different."

*You don't believe that anymore,* Luna whimpered. *Neither of us does.*

I ignored her as I extinguished the ceremonial candles one by one. This was the ritual I had perfected over seven years—not the sacred marking ceremony, but the ritual of packing away my disappointment, of folding my hope into a smaller and smaller space until it could fit inside a heart that was running out of room.

As I walked back to my cabin at the edge of the Black Crest territory—not in the main compound where a true Luna would reside—I touched the moonstone bracelet. It was cool against my skin despite the summer night's warmth.

"One more chance," I promised Luna, who had retreated into sullen silence. "If he fails the hundredth time, we'll reconsider."

But deep down, as the cabin came into view—small and isolated, just like my place in Ethan's life—I wondered how many "one more chances" I had left to give before there was nothing left of me at all.