Blood Money

'MATE!' Valor's voice thunders through my mind, shattering the peaceful morning of my eighteenth birthday. I freeze mid-step in the forest clearing where I've been waiting for Preston to arrive for our traditional birthday hike.

'You've got to be kidding me,' I respond internally, scanning the tree line. 'That's just Preston. We've been best friends since we were pups learning to shift.'

'MATE!' Valor insists, practically prancing inside my head. 'Our mate approaches!'

I spot Preston's familiar silhouette emerging from between the ancient oaks. His tall frame moves with the easy confidence that comes from years of training as the pack's future Delta. My stomach twists into knots as the wind shifts, carrying his scent directly to me.

This can't be happening. The Goddess wouldn't be this cruel, would she?

The moment Preston catches my scent, his relaxed posture stiffens. His eyes widen, and the birthday smile he'd been wearing vanishes, replaced by a look of horror that mirrors what must be on my face. He slows his approach, eyes darting around the clearing as if searching for someone else—anyone else—who might be the source of what his wolf is undoubtedly screaming in his head.

"Happy birthday, Thea," he manages, his voice strained as he finally stops a few feet away from me. The distance between us feels deliberate, unnatural after eighteen years of casual touches and playful shoves.

"Thanks," I whisper, watching him scan the clearing with increasing desperation. "Looking for something?"

"I thought I smelled..." he trails off, refusing to meet my eyes. "Never mind."

We both know exactly what he smelled. The mate bond, fresh and insistent, hanging in the air between us like an unwelcome guest.

Preston finally sighs and reaches into his jacket pocket. "This is for you," he says, holding out a small wooden box. "Made it myself."

My hands tremble slightly as I accept his gift. We've exchanged birthday presents every year since we were five, but this one feels different—weighted with unspoken complications.

Inside the box rests a hand-carved wooden pendant on a leather cord. The pendant bears our initials—P & N—intertwined within the shape of a wolf's head. Beneath the design, he's burned the words "Friends Through Every Moon." The irony is almost too much to bear.

"It's beautiful," I say honestly, running my finger over the intricate carving. "Thank you."

I move to hug him—a reflex after so many birthdays—and my arm brushes against his. The contact sends an electric shock through my system, and Preston jerks away as if burned by silver.

"Goddess damn it!" he snarls, putting several more feet between us. "It's really you?"

His anger catches me off guard. I expected confusion, maybe even disappointment, but not this raw fury.

"Calm down, Pres," I say, trying to keep my voice steady. "This isn't exactly my idea of a perfect birthday surprise either. We need to think this through rationally."

"Rationally?" he spits the word. "There's nothing rational about this situation, Thea. Other wolves reject their mates all the time—"

"Not in our pack," I interrupt. "You know Alpha Edwin's law. Mates can only reject each other in cases of abuse or terminal illness."

Preston runs his hands through his dark hair, his frustration palpable. "I'm supposed to become Delta next month during the super blue moon ceremony. If we reject each other, I could lose everything I've worked for."

"And what about Phoenix?" I ask, thinking of the guy I've been seeing for the past year. Just two nights ago, we'd met Preston and Ruby at this very clearing. While we couldn't see each other in the darkness, I knew Preston and Ruby were together on one side while Phoenix and I found our own private spot. The memory makes this situation even more awkward.

"What about him?" Preston scoffs. "Come on, Thea. You can't seriously believe Phoenix is with you for anything other than status. The guy's been trying to climb the pack hierarchy since he could walk."

His words hit me like a physical blow. "That's not true."

"Isn't it? Think about it—both Phoenix and Ruby started showing interest right after our ranks were announced. They're using us, Thea. They probably laugh about it when we're not around."

"Take that back!" I shout, lunging forward and shoving him hard in the chest. The pendant box falls from my hand as Preston catches my wrists.

"Stop it," he growls, his face inches from mine. "You know I'm right. They want to be somebody in the pack, so why not attach themselves to the future Delta and Lead Female Warrior?"

When did my best friend become this cynical, judgmental person? The Preston I grew up with—the boy who helped me build tree forts and practiced combat moves with me until we both collapsed from exhaustion—would never say such cruel things.

"Let go of me," I whisper, tears threatening to spill.

He releases my wrists and steps back, his expression hardening. "The Goddess has a sick sense of humor, pairing us together."

"We've been best friends our entire lives," I say. "I always pictured us growing old together, but not like this. It was supposed to be you with your mate, me with mine, our pups growing up together just like we did."

"Well, the Goddess had other plans," Preston says bitterly. "Plans that are going to ruin everything we've worked for."

I sink to the ground beneath the ancient oak where we carved our initials when we were ten. The tree that witnessed countless secrets, dreams, and promises between us. Now it's witnessing the death of our friendship.

"So what do we do?" I ask, staring at the fallen pendant box.

"I don't know," Preston admits, keeping his distance. "But I can't lose my position. My father would never forgive me."

Of course. Preston's father has been grooming him for pack leadership since birth. The Detroit—now Coleman—family has held the Delta position for generations.

"So we just... what? Pretend this never happened?" I ask.

"Maybe we should take some time apart," he suggests, his voice cold and unfamiliar. "Figure things out separately."

The finality in his tone breaks something inside me. Eighteen years of friendship, shattered by a cosmic joke from the Goddess.

"Fine," I say, my voice hollow. "Go."

Preston hesitates, looking like he might say something else, but then turns and walks away without another word. I watch him disappear into the trees, taking with him every childhood memory, inside joke, and shared dream.

When he's gone, I pick up the fallen pendant box. The wooden wolf with our intertwined initials now seems like a cruel mockery. "Friends Through Every Moon" — what a lie that turned out to be.

I pull my lighter from my pocket—the one Preston gave me on my sixteenth birthday "for emergencies." With trembling hands, I hold the flame to the edge of the wooden pendant, watching as the fire catches and begins to consume our initials.

"I hate you, Preston Wade Coleman," I whisper as the pendant burns in my palm, the pain barely registering through my emotional numbness. "I hate you for ruining everything, and I hope I never have to look at you again."

I drop the burning pendant onto the forest floor and watch it turn to ash. Valor whimpers in my mind, mourning the mate bond we'll never embrace.

My eighteenth birthday—the day I was supposed to celebrate becoming an adult wolf with my best friend by my side. Instead, I sit alone in our special clearing, surrounded by the ashes of our friendship, wondering why the Goddess would curse her children with such a cruel fate.

Some wolves spend their entire lives searching for their fated mates. I found mine today, and it destroyed everything I ever cared about.