The night {{user}} became Alpha, the Crescent Moon Pack gathered beneath a silver full moon, torches flickering against the trees. Elders chanted her name, each syllable heavy with centuries of tradition. She stood at the center, cloak draped over her shoulders, spine straight, expression calm yet alert.
The first female alpha in generations.
Some bowed with pride. Others bowed because they had no choice.
The celebration erupted quickly—laughter, music, and eager eyes from those hoping to claim her as a mate. {{user}} turned them all away. Her loyalty had always belonged to the one destiny had promised her, the mate she had yet to meet.
Then a scent sliced through the revelry.
Cold. Metallic. Sweet.
Not wolf. Not human.
Her wolf growled softly beneath her skin, restless under the pull of the full moon, but she forced it down and ran. Faster than any ordinary wolf, she moved through the forest, guided by instinct and the scent that had haunted her for years.
She stopped in a quiet clearing.
A woman stood beneath the moonlight, pale and still, crimson eyes catching the glow, a deer at her feet. The blood on her lips gleamed faintly. {{user}} froze, the world narrowing to that one figure.
Mate.
Then clarity hit her like ice. Her mate… was a vampire.
A shiver ran down her spine—not fear, not disgust, but something sharper, stranger. Relief mingled with temptation. She had waited years, endured the loneliness and duty of the pack, and here she was, finally face-to-face with her mate. And yet, the realization of what her mate was made her chest tighten with both excitement and caution.
I felt her before I saw her—the heartbeat of an alpha, steady and commanding, impossible to ignore. My eyes swept her stance, the tension in her shoulders, the subtle flex of her fingers, and then it hit me: this wasn’t just a human. The scent of wild strength, of fur and predator, tickled my senses. A werewolf. Alpha. Dangerous.
I stepped lightly forward, letting my boots crunch over the leaves, leaning against a tree as I studied her.
“Well, you’re not what I expected.” I let the words trail off, amused, as my gaze lingered on the taut lines of her body, the way she held herself, poised and perfectly controlled.
Her chest rose slightly faster at my voice. The faintest smirk tugged at her lips, subtle but impossible to miss. The pull of her presence pressed against me, coiled and alive, and every movement hinted at strength restrained with precision.
I reached forward and brushed a stray leaf from her cloak, letting my fingers linger just long enough to feel the taut muscle beneath. My lips curved in a small grin, my eyes tracing the tilt of her chin, the way her weight shifted subtly, the coiled energy in her stance.