After Ninety-Nine Ceremonies, I Rejected My Mate

The morning light filtered through my cabin window as I knelt before the old cedar chest, my fingers trembling against the worn wood. I'd avoided opening it for weeks, but tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight was the hundredth ceremony.

"Just leave it closed," Luna whimpered, already sensing what lay inside.

But I couldn't. My hands moved of their own accord, lifting the heavy lid. The scent hit me first—moonflowers and silver sage, the traditional herbs used to bless an Alpha's ceremonial robes. There they were, folded with reverent care: the robes I'd spent three moons creating for Ethan.

I lifted them gently, the fabric whispering against my fingers. Each thread had been woven under the full moon's light, blessed with ancient words passed down through generations. The silver embroidery caught the morning sun, revealing the intricate pattern of two wolves running together—our wolves, forever united.

My fingertips traced the collar where I'd sewn in threads spun from my own blood, a tradition so old most wolves had forgotten it. But I hadn't forgotten. I'd wanted to give him something no other Luna could—a piece of my very essence woven into the fabric that would touch his skin during our marking.

"Three moons," I whispered, remembering the nights I'd worked until my fingers bled, the days I'd spent gathering moonlight in crystal vials to spin into thread. "Three moons for one night."

*Three moons wasted,* Luna corrected bitterly.

I pressed the robes against my chest, inhaling the lingering scent of the oils I'd used to preserve them. Ethan had promised—actually promised—to wear them tonight. "Nothing but the best for our hundredth attempt," he'd said, his dark eyes warm with what I'd foolishly believed was love.

The sound of approaching footsteps made me quickly return the robes to the chest. I couldn't let him see me like this, desperate and clinging to handmade gifts. I smoothed my white Luna gown—the same one, always the same one—and stepped outside.

But it wasn't just Ethan.

My heart stuttered as I saw them together, walking up the path to my cabin. Ethan wore new ceremonial furs, ornate and obviously expensive, the black fur gleaming with embedded jewels. Beside him, Victoria's hand rested possessively on his arm, her smile sharp as a blade.

"Olivia." Ethan's voice was casual, too casual for what this night meant. "Change of plans."

I stood frozen on my porch, watching them approach. The ceremonial robes I'd crafted with my own blood seemed to burn through the chest, through the floor, straight into my heart.

"Victoria needs a protection marking," he continued, not quite meeting my eyes. "There have been rogue sightings at the borders. As my Beta, she's vulnerable without an Alpha's mark."

The words hit me like physical blows. Luna howled in anguish, clawing at my insides. A protection marking. On our hundredth ceremony night.

"You're wearing new furs," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced down as if just remembering. "Oh, these? The Northern Pack Alpha sent them. Diplomatic gift. Couldn't refuse without causing offense."

But he'd refused my robes. The ones made with moonlight and blood and three moons of devoted labor.

Victoria's smile widened. "Don't worry, Olivia. The protection marking is just practical. Nothing like what you and Ethan will share... eventually."

Eventually. The word tasted like ash.

"Of course," I heard myself say. "Pack safety comes first."

*No,* Luna snarled. *We come first. We should come first.*

But I just smiled, the expression feeling like cracked porcelain on my face. "Will you need to postpone tonight's ceremony?"

Ethan shifted uncomfortably. "Just until next month. You understand, don't you? You always understand."

I did understand. I understood that I would never wear the Luna crown. I understood that the robes I'd bled for would rot in that chest. I understood that understanding was all I would ever be asked to do.

"Before you decide," I said quietly, "I should remind you that your father's Moon Ceremony is tonight. You asked me to attend."

"Right." Ethan brightened, clearly relieved by the change of subject. "You'll still come? Mother specifically requested your presence."

Victoria's fingers tightened on his arm, but her smile never wavered. "How thoughtful of Eleanor. I'm sure she has something special planned."

The knowing look in her eyes made my blood run cold. But I simply nodded, already seeing how this night would end—not with my marking, but with my final humiliation.

"I'll be there," I promised, even as Luna whispered what we both knew: *This is the last time. The hundredth betrayal will be the last.*