Chapter 2 Chosen mate and chaos

Selene’s POV

The moment Alpha Ronan declared me his chosen mate, the entire Bloodhowl mating ceremony erupted into chaos.

Whispers rushed through the hall like a storm breaking over the pack. Wolves turned to one another with wide eyes and parted lips, their shock spreading faster than fire. I stood on the platform with Ronan’s Alpha ring pressed into my palm, my fingers curled around it so tightly the sharp edges of the Bloodhowl crest dug into my skin. The pain should have bothered me, but it barely reached me through the agony already tearing through my chest. Damon’s rejection had not been completed because I had not accepted it, but that did not mean it had not wounded me. The bond still stretched between us like a bleeding thread, twisted and raw, punishing me every time Damon looked at Mira instead of me.

Mira stood beside him in her perfect silver dress, but the victory on her face had cracked. Her smile was gone. Her eyes kept dropping to the ring in my hand as if she could not understand how the night she had stolen from me had somehow turned into something she had never prepared for. Damon looked worse. His jaw was clenched, his face pale with fury, and his hand was still wrapped around Mira’s even though his stare had locked on me like I had betrayed him.

That almost made me laugh.

He had rejected me. He had humiliated me. He had dragged me in front of the entire pack and cut me open with words he knew would destroy me, but somehow, the second Ronan placed power in my hand instead of shame, Damon looked at me like I was the one who had ruined everything.

Ronan’s hand settled at the center of my back, warm and firm through the thin fabric of my faded dress. My body jerked before I could stop it, and I hated myself for reacting like that in front of everyone. I expected him to comment on it, maybe even tighten his grip and force me forward, but he did neither. His hand stayed steady, not cruel, not gentle, just there, holding me upright when my knees were dangerously close to giving out.

“You’re coming with me,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear it.

I swallowed hard, fighting through the pain pulsing under my ribs. “I didn’t agree to that.”

“No,” he said, his dark eyes still on the crowd. “You didn’t.”

Something about the answer threw me off. Damon would have argued. Helena would have mocked me. Mira would have smiled and twisted the knife deeper. Ronan simply acknowledged the truth and still guided me forward like my agreement had nothing to do with the fact that standing in that hall one second longer would finish breaking whatever Damon had not already destroyed.

Damon stepped into our path before we reached the stairs. “You are not taking her anywhere.”

The hall dropped into a silence so sudden it felt unnatural. Even the candles seemed to burn quieter. Ronan’s hand stayed at my back, but the air around him changed, growing heavier until my wolf went still inside me despite the pain. I had seen Alpha Ronan from a distance my entire life. I had heard the stories, the warnings, the quiet admiration buried beneath people’s fear, but I had never been close enough to understand why grown wolves lowered their eyes when he passed.

I understood then.

Ronan did not need to raise his voice. He did not need to bare his teeth. He only looked at Damon, and the future Alpha of Bloodhowl suddenly seemed very young.

“You rejected her,” Ronan said.

Damon’s nostrils flared. “She did not accept.”

“No,” Ronan replied. “She didn’t. Which means you injured her without ending the bond.”

Damon’s eyes flashed, and for one second, something almost like guilt crossed his face. It vanished so quickly I might have imagined it. “This is between me and Selene.”

“You made it between you, Selene, Mira, and every wolf in this hall when you opened your mouth on that platform.”

A few wolves shifted uncomfortably. Mira’s hand tightened around Damon’s arm, and Helena’s face went hard in the front row. I should have felt satisfied watching them all squirm beneath Ronan’s words, but the rejection pain chose that moment to rip through me again. My breath caught, my fingers clenched around the ring, and I had to lock my knees to keep from stumbling.

Ronan noticed.

Of course he noticed.

His attention cut back to me, sharp and immediate. He did not ask if I was all right because we both knew I was not. Instead, his hand pressed a little more firmly against my back, and his voice dropped into something dark enough to make the hairs on my arms rise.

“You can hate me in private, Selene. You will not fall apart for them.”

I should have snapped at him. I wanted to. The anger was there, hot and bitter, but so was the horrible truth that he had seen straight through me. I did hate him in that moment, at least a little. I hated Damon more. I hated Mira. I hated Helena. I hated every wolf watching me like my humiliation was entertainment dressed up as ceremony. Most of all, I hated that Ronan’s command gave me something solid to hold on to.

So I walked.

The crowd parted for him with the kind of obedience that made my stomach twist. No one reached for me. No one comforted me. No one asked if I wanted any of this. Their eyes followed the ring in my fist, my old red dress, Ronan’s hand at my back, and the broken future Alpha standing behind us with another female on his arm. By sunrise, the entire territory would know. By tomorrow night, the story would be turned into something ugly enough to feed on. Some would say I had been rejected because I was not good enough. Some would say Ronan had claimed me to punish Damon. Others would say I had somehow planned it all, as if girls like me had the luxury of planning anything beyond surviving the next blow.

When we reached the side corridor, two Bloodhowl warriors bowed their heads so quickly their eyes barely touched me. Ronan led me past them without slowing, through a long passage lined with dark wood and old portraits of Alphas who all seemed to be watching me with cold judgment. The farther we moved from the ceremony, the quieter the world became, but the silence did not calm me. It made the pain louder. Every step pulled at the half-severed bond inside my chest, and my wolf kept turning back toward Damon, confused and wounded, as if she could not understand why our mate’s scent was behind us instead of beside us.