The forest was a black ocean of trees, their twisted trunks rising like broken bones into a sky smothered by storm clouds. The wind howled through the pines, carrying with it the scent of rot, iron, and old magic. A girl barely more than skin and bone ran barefoot over the needle-strewn earth, thorns biting into her skin, branches clawing at her arms like the ghosts of the dead.

She didn’t scream. Her voice had been taken away long ago along with everything else.

Her breath wheezing, legs trembling, her skin once radiant and rich, was now dulled from months without sunlight, was marked with fresh bruises and old scars.

Her dress hung off her like rags. She wrapped her torn shirt around her body to cover everything which seemed impossible with the bare minimum fabric left off her shirt. Her hair was a tangled snarl, crusted with dried blood and mud. Every step she took sent lightning bolts of pain through her bones. Hunger gnawed at her stomach, but fear drove her faster. She looked like she had survived a war.

The forest whispered threats in every rustle, at every crack of a branch. For eighteen years, the pack had been her home. She had laughed, played, loved and dreamed. She had waited her whole life for her eighteenth birthday, the day when every Lycan shifts into their wolf for the first time, the moment when they feel their wolf rise inside them, primal and powerful.

    But her wolf never came.

And everything has changed from then. Her family turned their backs on her. They called her a defect, a shame, a burden.

The pack which was once her world became her prison. Venu, her mate chosen by the moon goddess, was supposed to protect and cherish her, but rejected her not with words, but with his actions. He paraded around with other females before her, touched them, mated with them, breaking her soul little by little; bound by a bond as he refused to break. He wanted her to suffer. And she did.

She has seen many Lycans without wolves in her own pack being treated better than her. Though her pack makes wolfless Lycans an omega, they had some basic place and respect there. But she had none. She was tortured for not having a wolf. Her family said pain brings out the wolf. She was naive to believe them.

But that’s not the case. There’s something else which she has no idea of. She needs answers. To get what she wants, she has to stay alive and strong. Staying in the pack won’t do any good to her. She has to escape.

She had no wolf, no power, no strength, but she had enough rage to push her.

Her bare feet pounded the forest floor. Each step was agony. Her vision swam. Her lungs burned. She didn’t know where she was going. She didn’t care. Memories clawed at her mind; her mother's eyes as she turned away, her mate’s laugh echoing in her ears, the jeering faces of the pack who once called her sister. Each memory struck her like a whip, driving her forward.

She saw it through the fog, the edge of her pack’s territory. She stepped toward it, her body trembling, one foot almost over the line when a voice broke through the night.

"Anaya, stop!"

Her heart stopped. She turned, breath caught in her throat. There he was, her mate. Standing just yards away, chest heaving, eyes locked on her like a predator cornering prey. He stared at her not with hate this time. Before, those eyes had looked at her with cold hatred, disgust. But now they held fear.

He took a step toward her. Anaya was standing right on the precipice. Her toes were barely touching the border of safety.

“Don’t go,” he said, voice hoarse, cracking. “Please… just listen to me.”

She blinked at him, confused. His words sounded strange in the air, like a foreign language. Pleading, gentle, almost desperate.

“Just… come back with me,” he said. “I’ll fix it. I swear. Things will change. I..... I didn’t know it would go this far. Please. I know I was a monster. I’ll change. I promise I’ll protect you. You can’t survive out there alone, Anaya. You don’t have a wolf.”

She stared at him like he was mad. Once, she had begged the Moon Goddess to hear those words. She would’ve cried in joy, believing him, forgiving him.

But that girl died the day he mated with other she-wolves.

 “You should’ve said those words months ago,” she whispered, voice flat. “Back when I still believed you were capable of love.”

His jaw tensed. “I didn’t know how to....”

“Stop”, her voice cut him off like a blade to the throat. “I don’t want your apologies. I don’t want your mercy. Accept my rejection, Venu. I’ll stay for that or nothing else.”

He stiffened. The words hit like a punch to the gut. He took a step forward. He is not afraid of rejecting her but he is afraid of the aftermath.

She has to be here. Alpha Arjun would kill me, he thought.

He didn’t love her, and he certainly wished he hadn't obeyed Arjun’s command to torture and humiliate her these past months. He hated the things he had done, but he had no choice. Arjun specifically instructed him not to reject her but to go on with his playboy spirit.

 A lycan mating with anyone other than their fated mate after finding them will put the mate into agony of pain. Also, Venu’s wolf was against him in this from the very beginning. He is giving him hell. Even now, his wolf wants to claim Anaya and protect her with all his might. But Venu was not ready to accept a wolfless mate.

Also, Arjun’s grip was absolute; disobeying him meant the death of not just him, but his entire family. He couldn't tell Anaya any of this, but he had to make her stay, or he would be executed. Arjun has said everything will end today, as Venu is not aware of his plan, he is sure it will not end well for Anaya. He felt sorry for her. But if he let her go now, no one will be there to help him. He can’t let her go.

“Wait. We can figure something out......”

“ACCEPT IT.”

Her tone left no room for negotiation. No space for manipulation. Something in her gaze told him she was beyond reach now. She had detached from him in every way that mattered. With a shaking sigh, he finally gave in, clinging to the slim hope that the bond-break would keep her in place. He nodded miserably. “Alright, I agree. Just… stay.”

Anaya drew a deep, cleansing breath. She had won the ultimate freedom.

“I, Anaya from Red Moon Pack, reject you, Venu, as my true mate. Now accept it."

The effect was instantaneous and devastating. The bond that had linked them snapped like a tortured wire. Venu gasped, a choked, guttural sound, and collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as a wave of immense, visceral agony washed over him. “I, Venu, accept your rejection," he said while gritting his teeth.

The moment he accepted her rejection, they both felt the disappearance of their bond. Once again, pain washed over him. His wolf howled in pain and went into silence. He looked up at Anaya standing tall without a single strand of pain.

Anaya felt nothing. Anaya stood tall, calm, and cold.

No tremble.

No tears.

No pain.

They had already burned all the emotion out of her. She took a deep breath, lifted her chin, and said the words that would sever her final tie.

 “I, Anaya, reject the Red Moon Pack as my home, and claim myself as a rogue.”

Venu lifted his head, tears of physical pain streaming from his eyes, now wide with a shock that transcended his own suffering. Breaking the mate bond was one thing; breaking the pack bond was an act of final, unforgivable betrayal.

Anaya understood his horror. She offered him a small, chilling smile, the first true smile she'd worn in months, though it held no warmth. “Yes, Venu. I betrayed you. Just like you betrayed me. We are even now."

She turned and ran.

Finally stepping over the boundary, she charged down the winding path that led away from the foothills and toward the distant, unseen city. Behind her, Venu fought through the crushing pain, managing to mind-link the pack warriors. "Find Anaya, bring her back!" he ordered, before the sheer force of the rejection.

But Anaya was already gone. She reached the edge of the forest where trees thinned into wild fields and a cracked road. Her body swayed. Her vision blurred. She stumbled into the middle of the road, knees buckling, heart slowing.

Her body couldn’t take more. She collapsed, facing towards the sky. Darkness swirled in. Tires screeched. Someone was running toward her. In her last moment of fading awareness, her lips moved in a silent prayer. “Please… don’t let it be them”. Then the world went dark.

The screech of the tires and the flash of headlights abruptly illuminated Anaya's collapsed form on the road. The driver’s side door of the sleek, black sedan burst open, and a woman stepped out, her rich pink saree, embroidered with golden threads, fluttered behind her like a banner in the breeze. It wrapped tightly around her waist and shimmered in the moonlight with each swift movement she made.

Her thick hair with dark curls was tamed into a long, heavy braid that trailed down her back reaching below her hips. Her sharp gaze swept the road towards the one lying on the road.

An unconscious girl was lying motionless on the road. Without thinking, the woman ran to her. She moved with quiet grace, her presence composed and radiant, yet wrapped in a cold, commanding aura that made people instinctively straighten their backs and choose their words with care. The golden bells of her jimmikis swayed gently with every step as she ran to the limp body lying in the middle of the road.

She dropped quickly, gracefully, beside Anaya. The moonlight, filtering through the dense canopy of the Yercaud forest, caught her features. Her dark eyes, framed by heavy kajal, held a brilliant, intense shine that bespoke intelligence and worry. Her expression was one of immediate concern and assessment, not fear. Kneeling beside her, she pressed her fingers gently to the girl's neck.

Pulse is weak, but alive. She looked closer, the bruises, the hollow cheeks, and the torn dress clinging to her skeletal frame. The girl looked like she had clawed her way out of death.

Danger still hung in the air like smoke. Whoever had done this… might still be close. As the woman leaned forward to lift her, something caught her eye.

A tattoo on the girl’s left shoulder starting to fade, smeared with blood and dirt, but its shape was unmistakable to anyone who knew the old symbols.

The woman’s breath caught.

“Lycan,” she whispered.

Though partially obscured by the tattered remains of her dress, the mark of a pack was unmistakable. Still vivid, dark, but fading she understood at once: the girl was a Lycan. She had left her pack not long ago.

Her eyes narrowed. Her movements became quicker, more deliberate. She scooped the girl up effortlessly, surprised by how weightless she felt. There was no hesitation. No fear.

She opened the backseat of her sleek black car and placed the girl gently inside, covering her with the shawl she had.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, she gripped the wheel and looked at the rearview mirror, her own cold expression meeting her gaze.

“Whatever happened to you, child…” she murmured, “You’re safe now.”

Though she was human, she wasn’t a stranger to this world. She had grown up among them. The girl, whoever she was, had gone through hell. That much was clear. And she might still be in danger. Her mind spun with options. But only one made sense. Taking the girl to her best friend, who is a doctor of their kind.

The engine hummed back to life as the car snaked through the misty Yercaud roads. Coffee plantations spread on either side, pine trees lining the curves. Stars blinked overhead through openings in the forest canopy.