The moon festival

The annual Moon Festival was a time for unity. A night when the Crescent Hollow pack came together under the full moon to honor peace among alphas, betas, and omegas. Bonfires were lit, drums echoed through the forest, and laughter filled the cool night air. Every pack member wore their best clothes, their best smiles, and their best masks of perfection.

Everyone, except Alex.

His mother had practically shoved him into a soft cream-colored shirt and pale blue jeans, fussing over his hair and appearance as though that would hide the fact that he’d just come out of his first full-blown heat the week before. Though his omega scent had finally leveled out, the memory of it—of the vulnerability, the burning need—still clung to him like smoke. He kept his eyes down, hands shoved into his pockets as he stepped into the clearing.

And then he saw him.

Brian.

Wearing black like a second skin, his shirt hugged the defined muscles of his chest and arms. The sleeves were rolled just enough to tease. His laughter was louder than the music, easy and magnetic, drawing attention like a flame draws moths. Surrounded by his friends, Brian looked as though he belonged to the night itself.

Alex’s breath hitched.

He wasn’t supposed to notice. He wasn’t supposed to care.

But the moment their eyes met across the fire, something shifted.

Brian stilled, his laughter fading instantly. He hadn’t sensed Alex arrive until his scent slipped past the smoke and straight into his lungs—a sweet, familiar whisper that gripped his core. Then, it hit him.

That pull.

That bone-deep, soul-aching tug in his chest that nearly brought him to his knees. His alpha instincts surged to the surface, screaming one word over and over.

Mate.

They stared at each other in stunned silence as the world blurred around them. The music, the crowd, the fire—everything disappeared. All that remained was the invisible thread between them, tugging tighter, calling louder.

Until pain struck.

Sharp, splitting pain in their heads and chests, like claws raking through their minds.

The bond wasn’t ready. Or maybe, they weren’t.

Alex clutched his chest and stumbled back.

Brian turned without a word and ran into the woods.

Alex did the same, darting in the opposite direction, his heartbeat a wild, confused drum in his ears.

⸻

Brian sat alone beneath the towering pines, fist buried in cold earth. Rage warred with confusion.

Why him?

Why Alex?

He was just his stepbrother. The annoying, sharp-tongued boy he clashed with daily. The one he mocked out of habit. But now his entire body burned with a need he couldn’t deny. Every instinct screamed to claim him, protect him.

Mine.

⸻

Alex locked himself in his room, slamming the door shut before collapsing onto his bed. He grabbed his sketchbook and tore page after page, each one filled with Brian—his eyes, his grin, his silhouette. He’d drawn him for years, always pretending it meant nothing. But now the truth clawed its way out of him.

They avoided each other for days after.

Rachel noticed the tension but shrugged it off as boys being boys. Daniel, on the other hand, wasn’t fooled. He cornered Brian behind the training shed one afternoon.

“You scenting someone?” he asked, arms crossed.

Brian’s eyes widened. “No. I mean—no one. I’m just… confused.”

Daniel didn’t look convinced. “Sometimes your mate isn’t who you want. Sometimes it’s who you need. The bond doesn’t care about what’s allowed.”

Brian looked away, jaw tight. He wanted to deny it. Pretend none of it was real.

But the ache in his chest told him otherwise.

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