A LUNA’S REJECTION

Chapter 2

The Glaze

Finals suck. No one enjoys them. But the real relief comes when they're finally over. Our professor doesn’t waste time grading; with the ceremony just days away, he has no choice but to rush it. For some of us, it's about moving on—transfers to other packs or new roles within our own. We need those results ASAP.

Two days later, they’re out. Clara and I both passed, but I got a nearly perfect score. Everyone was surprised, myself included. I studied, sure, but this? I didn’t expect it. The professor mentioned I’d graduate with honors and even got the chance to give the valedictorian speech at the ceremony. I'd be speaking right after the fight results, where the last girl standing is crowned the strongest. No way that’s me. I’ll be lucky if I survive the first round.

Clara and I are in our workout gear. Off to the side, past the tree line, campfires and torches burn brightly in the distance. It’s dark, but the full moon makes everything clearer.

We start walking towards the ceremony, just like we rehearsed a few days ago. Alpha Bren will greet each of us, and we’ll pick numbers from a hat to determine who fights who.

And then, the games begin.

The closer we get to the campfires, the more my nerves intensify. There’s something off about tonight. The air’s heavy, like it’s charged with energy. My wolf’s uneasy, and a sick feeling settles in my gut.

Clara squeezes my hand, as if she can feel it too. We march in sync, eyes locked ahead at the ceremony where the entire pack has gathered. I always knew we had a big pack, but seeing everyone gathered around the fighting ring—it’s overwhelming. Men, women, children. They’re all here to watch us fight, bleed, and maybe even die.

“It’s okay,” Clara whispers. “You’re going to do great.”

I nod, trying to hold on to her words from earlier. It’s been years since a male has died in these fights, and even longer for a female. *Don’t worry, you’ll live. It’ll hurt like hell, but you’ll make it.*

She’s right. Tonight will be painful, but it’s not something I can’t handle.

“Let’s get the living s**t beat out of us,” I whisper back, forcing a grin. Clara’s eyes light up, and we push forward, the heat from the fires growing closer.

When we reach the ring, we line up side by side. Our instructor gives a brief introduction, listing our names and ages.

“Clara Garve, twenty-one!” The crowd cheers as Clara steps forward.

“Mia Holm, twenty-two!” My name echoes as I step up next.

When all the names are read, we face Alpha Bren. He walks down the line, handing out numbers from a bag.

Something’s different about him tonight. His face is harder, more serious—like a businessman rather than the carefree guy I once knew. He’s bigger now, more imposing. There’s a battle scar on his jawline, the source of which no one’s sure of. Some say it’s from a rebellion fight; others say it’s from a Royal Guard during his trip to the Royal Capital. But no one knows for sure.

He stops in front of Clara, nods politely, then his eyes shift to me. His lip curls up slightly. “Well, if it isn’t my favourite tutor.”

I smile softly, dipping my hand into the bag. “You mean your only tutor.”

He laughs, low and rumbling. “Don’t get your ass kicked too hard.”

He moves on, but my gaze lingers on him. There’s something different about him, something I can’t quite place. It’s not his appearance. It’s deeper. Something... unsettling that makes the pit in my stomach twist.

My thoughts are interrupted when our Beta calls for us to find our opponents. I breathe a small sigh of relief when Clara and I aren’t paired together. But then my heart sinks—Olive. She’s one of the strongest girls in our class. I won’t last long. At least it’ll be quick.

“Olive and Mia,” the instructor announces. “You drew number one. You’re up.”

Great. I’ve got the luck of Primrose.

Olive and I step into the ring, eyeing each other. She gives me a small, knowing smile. She’s confident she’ll win. But I won’t just roll over. I can’t. Not with the entire pack watching.

The air cracks with the sound of the starting shot. Olive charges at me, and I immediately fall into defense mode. She’s fast, throwing punches and kicks, but I dodge and deflect as much as I can. She lands a few soft hits, but I fight back with quick jabs of my own.

The crowd roars as they watch us, but I keep my focus on Olive, trying to weather her storm. For a second, I hear Clara’s voice cutting through the noise. “You’ve got this, Mia! Keep going!”

Olive’s movements slow. I see my chance. But I misread her exhaustion. She grabs me, twisting around my body like a snake, and my legs get swept out from under me. My face slams into the ground, and I lose my breath.

My wolf growls, frustrated. The power surges through me, desperate to get out, but I fight to suppress it. I focus on her arm around my neck and force my wolf back.

But I won’t play fair. I bite into Olive’s arm, sinking my fangs deep. She doesn’t flinch at first, but when the pain hits her, she cries out, pulling her arm away.

I use the opening to flip us over. My fist meets her face again and again, each blow landing with more force. The blood, the sweat—it fills my senses, and I feel myself slipping into a darker place. I can win this. I can really do it.

But then, everything changes.

The anger drains from my wolf, and a strange, warm sensation floods me. Suddenly, I’m not fighting anymore. I don’t care about winning or losing. All I can think about is him.

I swing my arm toward Olive, but it feels like I’m trying to hit her through water. My punches slow. Olive’s spitting blood, her face a mess of cuts. I look up, and my breath catches in my throat.

Bren’s eyes—his eyes are glowing silver.

It lasts for only a moment, a flash of something beautiful, like moonlight on water. Then it’s gone. I freeze, staring at him, my heart pounding.

Oh, my Moongoddess. *He’s my mate.*

I’ve heard the stories. Sometimes, mates know each other before the Glaze. Friends who’ve known each other for years suddenly realize they’re destined to be together. But I never thought it would happen like this. Not to me.

A rush of warmth floods me, like hot chocolate on a cold day. My wolf is no longer concerned with the fight. She just wants to be with him. To touch him, to feel his skin against mine. This is it. This is the moment I’ve waited for.

“Mia!” Clara’s voice snaps me out of my daze.

Olive takes advantage of my distraction, striking me hard in the stomach. The air rushes out of me, and I stagger back, gasping for breath.

Olive spits blood on the ground and locks eyes with me. “Sorry, Mia. Nothing personal.”

Then, with one swift motion, she drives her foot into my face. The world goes black.