The Matchmaker

The moon had always been her destiny.

For as long as Saphira could remember, she had imagined this night, her eighteenth birthday, the full moon rising just for her, the moment her wolf would finally awaken. Every story she’d ever heard, every whispered promise from elders, every dream she’d clung to told her the same thing... When the moon calls, your wolf answers.

And tonight, the moon was calling.

Her packmates gathered around her in a loose circle. Some watched with envy, others with awe, but all of them waited for the same moment. The first shift.

She had waited her whole life for this.

When the moon crested the treeline, impossibly bright, she stepped into its glow. The light poured over her like molten silver, warm and cold all at once. She closed her eyes, bracing for the snap of bones, the rush of power, the wild, beautiful surge of her wolf rising to meet her.

She waited... And waited. But nothing happened.

The hum beneath her skin flickered… then died.

A faint murmur rippled through the crowd. Saphira swallowed hard and tried again…willed the shift, begged for it, pleaded silently with the moon goddess. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out the whispers behind her.

Still nothing.

Minutes dragged into an eternity. The moon climbed higher, indifferent. Her breath grew shallow, her palms damp. She tried to force the shift, tried to summon something, anything, but her body remained stubbornly, painfully human.

By the time the moon reached its peak, the truth hit her like a blade.

Her wolf wasn’t coming.

A cold, hollow ache opened in her chest, spreading like frost. The whispers behind her sharpened, slicing through the night.

Wolf-less.

Broken.

Useless.

Someone snickered. Someone else muttered a prayer. A few stepped back, as if her failure were contagious.

Saphira’s vision blurred; she couldn’t breathe.

She couldn’t stay with them. So she ran.

Branches clawed at her arms as she fled into the forest, her vision blurring with every step. She didn’t stop until she reached the cliff’s edge, the world dropping away beneath her. The river roared far below, a dark, hungry current that swallowed everything in its path.

She stared into the night, tears streaking down her cheeks, her voice cracking as she begged the moon goddess for an answer.

Why her?

Why this?

Why take the one thing she had lived her entire life waiting for?

But the wind carried no reply. Only silence.

Footsteps approached behind her. For a heartbeat, hope flickered. Maybe someone had come to comfort her, to tell her it was a mistake, that her wolf was simply late.

But it was Ruby.

Her half-sister’s voice was venom wrapped in silk. “You’re a disgrace to this family. You should have never been born.”

Saphira flinched, but Ruby wasn’t finished.

“You embarrassed us in front of the entire pack. Father will never forgive you. And neither will I.”

Saphira opened her mouth to speak, but Ruby turned away, only to whirl back with a snarl, charging straight at her. The intent was unmistakable. Ruby meant to send her over the edge.

Panic seized her.

Her feet slipped on loose gravel. The cliff edge crumbled beneath her heel. She stumbled backwards, arms flailing… Then Connor burst from the trees.

He didn’t shout. Didn’t hesitate. He threw himself between them, shoving Saphira out of Ruby’s path with all the strength he had.

The world spun.

She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. Pain shot up her spine. She gasped, scrambling to her elbows just in time to hear Ruby scream.

“CONNOR!”

Saphira’s blood turned to ice.

Ruby was leaning over the cliff, her voice echoing through the mountains, shrill and panicked.

Connor was gone.

Saphira’s heart slammed against her ribs as she stumbled to the edge. The river below churned violently, swallowing everything in its path. She screamed his name until her throat tore, until her voice broke, until the night itself seemed to recoil from her desperation.

But there was no answer.

Only the river.

Only the silence.

Her knees buckled. She clutched the earth, shaking, sobbing, praying for a miracle that didn’t come.

By the time the pack arrived, Ruby had vanished…and her lies had already taken root.

“She pushed him!”

“She killed him!”

“She snapped when she didn’t shift!”

“She’s dangerous!”

Accusations spread like wildfire. Saphira tried to speak, tried to explain, but every word fell against a wall of suspicion and fear. The pack closed in around her, their eyes cold, their judgment absolute.

They didn’t kill her for the crime she was being accused of, not because they believed her, but because Connor’s body was never found. Without proof, they couldn’t execute her.

Instead, they planned a different punishment. They dragged her to the dungeons.

Eighteen lashes. One for every year of her life, and one for every year Connor would never reach.

The silver-laced whip tore into her back again and again. She didn’t have a wolf to dull the pain or heal the wounds. She wasn’t sure she would survive. Part of her didn’t want to.

But she did... Barely.

And the scars remained. They were raised, jagged reminders carved into her skin. She carried them like a second spine, each mark a memory of betrayal, loss, and the night her world shattered.

For years, the pack’s stares followed her like shadows. Murderer. Monster. Mistake.

She learned to keep her head down. Learned to swallow her grief. Learned to live with the weight of a crime she didn’t commit.

But Saphira refused to break.

She refused to believe Connor died for nothing.

She refused to accept Ruby’s victory.

She refused to let the pack define her.

Something fierce had awakened inside her that night…not a wolf, but a will. A force. A promise.

A promise that one day she would uncover the truth and avenge her brother.

She would survive, even if the world insisted she shouldn’t.

And one day, she would make them all regret underestimating the girl who never shifted.