Chapter 1 The Mating Ceremony

Emberlyn had been awake since before dawn. She stood in the cold kitchen of Moonfall Castle with her sleeves rolled to her elbows, scrubbing the last of the silver platters for the evening feast. Her hands were red and raw from the hot water, but she did not stop. She never stopped. A servant who stopped was a servant who got noticed, and being noticed in this castle was rarely a good thing. "Sera!" Marta, the head cook, snapped her fingers from across the room. "The Moon Ceremony begins at sunset. You have exactly one hour to wash, dress, and get yourself to the courtyard." Sera looked up in surprise. "Me? But I thought the servants weren't allowed to attend." "Any girl who turns eighteen this year must attend. Those are the king's orders." Marta's stern face softened for a moment. "And today is your birthday, isn't it?" Sera's cheeks warmed. She had not expected anyone to remember. "Yes. It is." "Then go. Quickly now, before I change my mind and put you back to work." Sera laughed, dried her hands on her apron, and ran. The servants' quarters were small and plain, but Sera had made her corner of the room into something that felt like home. A tiny window looked out over the forest. A faded blue blanket covered her narrow bed. On the shelf above it sat a small wooden bird that her mother had carved before she died. Sera touched the bird gently, as she did every morning. "Today is the day," she whispered. "Wish me luck." She washed her face and brushed out her long, dark red hair until it fell in soft waves down her back. Her only good dress was a simple cream gown she had mended so many times that the stitches had become a pattern of their own. It was not beautiful, but it was clean. She studied herself in the cracked mirror. She did not have the beauty of the noble ladies. She had no jewels and no title. Worst of all, she had no wolf. Every person in Moonfall Kingdom heard the voice of their wolf by the age of sixteen. Sera had heard nothing. Only silence. The other servants whispered about it behind her back. Wolfless, they called her. Cursed. Empty. But tonight, the Moon Goddess would name each girl's destined mate, and perhaps, just perhaps, the Goddess would also give Sera a reason to hope. "Please," she whispered to the pale evening sky. "I only want to belong somewhere." The sky did not answer. She picked up her skirts and hurried down the stairs. The castle courtyard glowed with a thousand lanterns. Silver banners hung from every balcony, and the whole kingdom seemed to have gathered beneath them. Nobles in velvet and jewels stood near the front. Merchants and farmers crowded behind them. People of every rank filled the air with low, restless murmurs. At the very center stood the Moon Stone, a tall pillar of pale crystal that would shine when the Goddess spoke. Sera slipped quietly to the edge of the crowd, where the other eighteen-year-old girls had gathered in a nervous line. Most of them wore silk. Some wore jewels in their hair. A few glanced at Sera's plain dress and turned away, whispering behind their hands. She lifted her chin and ignored them. On a raised platform above the courtyard sat the royal family. King Alaric Draven, tall and silver-haired, watched the crowd with sharp, unreadable eyes. Beside him sat Queen Elowen, pale and quiet. And standing at the king's right hand was the Crown Prince. Sera's breath caught. She had seen Kaelen Draven only from a distance, always from across a hall or down a long corridor. Even so, she had never forgotten him. He was twenty-two years old, broad-shouldered and straight-backed, with black hair and eyes the color of storm clouds. He wore his crown and his title as though they were part of his skin. It was said that he had never smiled in public. He was looking at the Moon Stone, not at the crowd. His jaw was tight. Beside the platform stood a young woman in a gown of deep sapphire blue. Lady Lyra Voss, the daughter of the kingdom's most powerful lord, was beautiful in the way a polished blade is beautiful. Her golden hair was pinned up with silver combs, and she was watching the prince with a faint, confident smile. The whole kingdom knew what she hoped for. The whole kingdom knew her father had been planning it for years. Sera looked away quickly. That has nothing to do with me, she told herself. A gong sounded, and the crowd fell silent. Elder Moriah stepped forward, leaning on her carved staff. She was the oldest seer in the kingdom, with white hair and eyes the color of milk. Many people said she could see things that had not happened yet. For a moment, her clouded eyes turned toward Sera. Sera felt a shiver run through her, though she could not say why. The old woman's lips moved as if she were speaking to herself. Then she raised her staff. "Tonight," Moriah called in a voice that carried across the whole courtyard, "the Moon Goddess blesses her children. Those who have reached their eighteenth year will step forward, and she will reveal the one fated to walk beside them." One by one, the girls approached the Moon Stone. The first girl, a baker's daughter, laid her hand on the crystal. It glowed soft white, and a young man in the crowd gasped and stepped forward with tears in his eyes. The crowd cheered. The second girl's mate was a blacksmith's son. The third's was a young soldier. Sera's heart pounded harder with every name. The line grew shorter. Her palms grew damp. She felt the eyes of the crowd on her back like small, cold needles. "Seraphine Emberlyn," Elder Moriah called at last. A ripple of whispers ran through the courtyard. "The wolfless girl?" "The kitchen maid?" "Why would the Goddess bother?" Sera swallowed hard and walked forward. Every step felt like walking through deep water. When she reached the Moon Stone, Elder Moriah gave her a long, strange look. "Child," the old woman murmured, so softly that only Sera could hear, "whatever happens tonight, remember this. You are not what they say you are." Sera blinked. "I don't understand." "You will." Moriah nodded at the crystal. "Place your hand." With a trembling breath, Sera pressed her palm against the cool stone. For one long second, nothing happened. Then the crystal flared with a blinding light, so bright and so sudden that the crowd cried out and shielded their eyes. Gold and white and a deep, burning red swirled together inside the stone. The ground seemed to hum beneath Sera's feet. She had never seen the Moon Stone shine like that. Judging by the shocked faces around her, no one else had either. The courtyard went utterly silent. And then a voice, soft as silk and ancient as the moon itself, whispered through the night. Your mate is born of the crown. Sera's heart stopped. The Alpha heir of Moonfall. Kaelen Draven. A gasp tore through the crowd like wind through dry leaves. Heads turned. Hundreds of eyes swung toward the platform. Sera stood frozen, her hand still pressed to the glowing stone. Kaelen? Her mate was the Crown Prince? It was not possible. It had to be a mistake. But deep in her chest, something warm and bright began to stir, like a candle being lit in a long-empty room. For the very first time in her life, she felt it. The bond. She turned slowly and looked up at the platform. Kaelen Draven had gone completely still. His storm-gray eyes were fixed on her, and for a single moment, she saw something raw and startled flash across his face. His lips parted. His hand curled tightly around the arm of his chair. Sera gave a small, trembling smile full of hope. He feels it too, she thought. He must. Beside the platform, Lady Lyra's confident smile had vanished. Her face had gone white, and her fingers were gripping her sapphire skirts so hard that her knuckles showed. King Alaric leaned toward his son and whispered something in his ear. Kaelen did not look away from Sera, but a muscle moved in his jaw. The startled light in his eyes slowly cooled, hardened, and went out. Sera's smile faltered. The courtyard held its breath. Then, slowly, deliberately, the Crown Prince of Moonfall rose to his feet.