Stolen Mate, Dark Magic

The morning mist clung to the ancient oak trees surrounding our pack's sacred burial grounds like ghostly fingers reluctant to let go. I knelt beside my mother's freshly turned grave, my hands trembling as I carefully lifted the ceremonial urn containing her ashes. The silver vessel felt impossibly heavy, weighted with more than just her physical remains—it carried the essence of everything she had been, everything she had taught me about honor, loyalty, and the sacred bonds that held our pack together.

"Luna Camille," Elder Margaret's weathered voice broke through my reverie. "It's time."

I nodded, unable to trust my voice as I rose to my feet. The assembled pack members formed a respectful circle around the burial site, their heads bowed in solemn silence. My father, the Alpha King, stood at my right shoulder, his massive presence both comforting and commanding. But the space to my left—where Fletcher should have been—remained painfully empty.

My mate. My supposed mate, who had promised to stand by my side through this most sacred ritual.

I lifted the urn higher, my voice carrying across the silent gathering. "We return Luna Isabella Young to the Moon Goddess, whose light guided her steps and whose wisdom flowed through her words." The traditional words felt like glass in my throat. "May her spirit find peace in the eternal hunt, and may her love continue to protect our pack from the celestial realm."

As I began to pour the ashes in the ceremonial pattern—a perfect circle representing the eternal cycle of life and death—Fletcher's scent suddenly intensified behind me. Relief flooded through my chest. He had come. Despite whatever pack emergency had delayed him, he was here for the most important moment.

"Camille." His voice was strangely formal, lacking the warmth I had grown accustomed to over the past months since we'd discovered our mate bond.

I turned, expecting to see concern in his deep brown eyes, perhaps an apology for his lateness. Instead, I found something cold and distant that made my wolf whimper in confusion.

"I have to leave," Fletcher announced, his words cutting through the sacred silence like a blade. "There's an emergency at my pack. Border breach. Possible rogue activity."

The urn nearly slipped from my hands. "Now?" The word came out as barely a whisper. "Fletcher, the ceremony isn't finished. I need—"

"My pack comes first." His tone was flat, emotionless. "You understand duty, don't you, Luna?"

The formal address stung worse than a slap. Around us, I could feel the pack members shifting uncomfortably, their eyes darting between Fletcher and me. My father's aura darkened dangerously, but Fletcher seemed oblivious to the threat.

"This is my mother's funeral," I said, my voice breaking despite my efforts to maintain composure. "She loved you like a son. She welcomed you into our family, and you can't even—"

"I'm sorry for your loss," Fletcher interrupted, already stepping backward. "But Alpha duties don't wait for grief."

He turned and walked away, his broad shoulders rigid