Scarlett raised her left arm above her head. Her moonstone ring glowed on her finger like a beacon in the night.

"In times like this," Scarlett said, smiling, "I feel that we must return to our roots. To our most sacred traditions."

"No," I whispered. "No..."

Scarlett's voice gained strength. "Traditions bond us, no matter which pack we run with!"

Applause met this punchline. With my heart in my throat, I whispered no again and again, quieter with each repetition, until the denial became only a breath on my lips.

"I decided to revive the ancient custom and prayed to the Goddess for a fated match!" Scarlett's beautiful hand waved through the air above the crowd. "And here it is, the double star of the fated!"

I couldn't see the twin pattern in Scarlett's moonstone, and I doubted many others could, but howls of cheer erupted all around the room.

They didn't know Miss Scarlett was a hypocrite, who laughed at the mates' ritual when Blake had spoken of it only yesterday. All they saw was a young and beautiful Luna. She was hopeful, and it was enough for them to forget their own troubles that plagued them.

But wait! That wasn't all.

"With how fast the Goddess responded to the spell," an excited woman's voice yelped, "I bet your fated mate is someone very close!"

The speaker was the girl in mauve, the one I bumped into earlier. Was she one of Scarlett's cronies who insulted me on purpose, or was I paranoid?

All eyes turned to the man standing next to Scarlett.

Blake, the pack's Alpha. Blake, my fated mate. Blake, whose heart I was going to win no matter what it took.

"Alpha Blake, if I were you, I'd check my ring," the older man next to Blake said, grinning from ear to ear.

My heart constricted. I knew that if Blake showed his ring now, there'd be a double star. Even if he tried to reveal me as his true fated mate, nobody would believe him.

Did Scarlett think, actually think, that he was hers?

"Blake!" someone yelled, slow-clapping. Was it the girl in lilac?

I didn't have time to look, because another voice joined, then more, turning their Alpha's name into a happy chant.

I chewed the nails on my hand, forgetting they were trimmed to perfection and painted with mother-of-pearl polish.

"Can one person have two fated mates?" I whispered to no one in particular.

Harold heard, despite the chanting of Blake's name and clapping.

"No," he replied. "Not simultaneously. Only if there is a death of one's fated mate involved."

Blood drained from my face. For Miss Scarlett to get Blake, she had to murder me and her true fated mate, whoever that was. Blake had to be aware of that fact as he stood next to Scarlett. If he stopped her lies by announcing our match, he would risk my life and someone else's.

But his silence felt like a sign of agreement with her.

"Blake! Blake! Blake!" the pack chanted, eager for good news.

"Blake," I whispered, completely out of tune with the rest of the room. "Blake, please."

He lifted his chin and looked across the room straight at me.

"Blake, do something." I hoped that somehow he heard me.

"Blake, acting decisively? Not a chance. He's used to getting things the slow way." Harold watched me even more closely, brow furrowed, but I didn't care. Let him guess at the truth. Nobody would believe it anyway.

"Please, Blake, please," I whispered again.

This time Blake's lips moved in response to my plea. At first, I lost his words in the noise, but once he paused, a hush fell over the gathering.

Everyone caught their breath, waiting for Blake to speak.

"Scarlett, congratulations on making a fated connection," Blake said tightly. "Though it seems like an odd moment to reveal something so private."

"Oh, I don't mind." Scarlett waved her ring even more energetically. "We need every reason to celebrate, after the horrible attacks yesterday."

The moonstone on her finger gleamed an aggressive red, like a moon during its total eclipse. A blood moon.

So Scarlett's moonstone was a blood moonstone, a sign of an upcoming eclipse. It couldn't be good, right? Alas, I didn't get far enough into Reed's files to be sure it was a bad omen. Maybe the werewolves celebrated the blood moons, and that would just fuel Scarlett's bid for Blake.

While I hesitated, an older guy put his hand on my fated mate's shoulder. I scowled, but what could I do?

"Lunas' and Alphas' fated mates concern the whole pack. It has been so since the time immemorial. Right, Blake?" the man said.

Murmurs of agreement went around the ballroom, though I doubted many of them gave the tradition a lot of thought before Scarlett teased them with her promise of becoming their Luna.

Alas, Blake knew and respected the traditions.

"You are right, Ralph," he replied. "Our pack needs a Luna to interpret the Goddess' will and to lend us her wisdom."

"Not just the pack, Blake," the guy insisted with a wink. "The Alpha needs a mate too. Am I right?"

Warm, suggestive laughter rippled through the audience.

"Yes, I need a mate. More than any other man." Blake smiled so warmly, envisioning having a trusted partner in leading the pack, my heart ached. He wanted me to share his burden and his life, but I wasn't ready. I wasn't a Luna.

I couldn't even try to compete with Scarlett.

"So, in keeping with the old ways, I vow to choose my Luna by the Winter Solstice," Blake said. "Our union will be celebrated on the longest night, the way it has always been done."

Half a year! Blake bought me half-a-year to find my wolf and get the Mark of Luna. And he didn't even try to distance himself from Scarlett, as if she was still an option if I couldn't succeed.

Thunderous applause met this pronouncement, while all I could do was to bite back tears.

"Are you all weepy again, little Omega?" Harold asked. "If you are surprised, then you don't really know Blake at all."

"I'm not crying," I said. Unfortunately, my voice quivered like a taut string.

Maybe I didn't know Blake as well as I wanted to, but it didn't take a close acquaintance to predict an ugly smirk on Harold's lips. "If our Alpha is waffling as much about what he wants from you, no wonder you're confused."

"Beta, please..." My wrist tingled in Harold's grip, as I stewed with anger and helplessness.

"A man who is born among the Alphas will never have been this careful. This...calculating." Harold spat that last word, making me suspect that Blake ran a clever campaign against him. His eyes seemed glossier than normal, and too red even for him. "Some might like drinking watered down wine, but I don't. Once your tiny brain grasps the truth, come and tell me everything Blake did to you. I'll find use for it when I demand my rightful place."

"Harold, you're...drunk!"

He scoffed. "Werewolves don't get drunk. Our metabolic rate is too high for it."

If he was sober, his rant was even scarier. "Harold, I..." How could I put more delicately that my hand was itchy? Involuntarily, I looked at the troublesome spot. A silver glow emanated between Harold's fingers.

"Oh gosh. I think I got a mark!"

People around me turned to stare at the glow and my babbling. Their questioning gazes—like what's the fuss about?—twisted my stomach into knots.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...to make a fuss. It's just...I was waiting for my Luna's mark! And here it is." Oh gosh, the Goddess took pity on me, and not too soon! How lucky was that? Or was it? "I think."

"Well, well. Let's see it." Harold let go of my hand, and yes, yes. A huge Greek letter glowed brightly on my wrist. The design was lovely, interwoven with fern leaves and dotted by stars.

"It's a Mark," he said. "No doubt about it."

"Th-thank you." I still couldn't believe my luck, twisting my hand to see the whole thing. It was round and curvy, and...

"Congratulations, Celeste. You are now indisputably an Omega."

Oh, shit. What I thought was a full moon was an Omega symbol.

"Luna...as if!" exclaimed the girl in lilac. Was she stalking me or something?

The heads next to her leaned in. "Those strays, they know nothing, do they?"

The lilac girl's other friends laughed at this witty exchange and my stupidity.

A light jazzy tune started up, but instead of distracting me from their sideways glances, it only made their mockery more poignant.

In the middle of the ballroom, still encased in the warm bubble of Luna's light, Blake danced with Scarlett. His arm was on her willowy waist, and she swayed with the music. Like a snake hypnotizing a mouse...

Goddess, why didn't I keep my mouth shut? And did it have to be Omega's Mark?

Tears swelled behind my eyelids, ready to spill. I just...I couldn't handle anything more right now. I whirled on my heels to dash away.

Of all the pieces of my outfit, I paid the least attention to my shoes. They were off white, with a five-inch heel, but not a stiletto. Pretty stable; comfortable.

Maybe I thought for a minute that the heels that high would bring my eyes level with Blake's lips, which would be wonderful for kissing...and that was all the thought I spared my shoes.

I didn't think of them as treacherous!

My right heel wobbled as I sped up, then slipped on the hardwood. I felt like I was watching my epic fall in slow motion, an out-of-body experience...until my knees hit the floor. My arms shot out to catch myself on instinct. The impact was powerful and the elbow-length gloves I wore were silk.

Yes, I face-planted. Literally.

Above my sprawled body, the vicious girl in lilac hissed. "Ladies, ladies...it seems Luna was right. Our little stray has taken Blake's dutiful nature for romantic interest. I can't decide if I should cry or laugh!"

She didn't need to specify which Luna spread rumors about me. Miss Scarlett, of course.

"Pathetic," said a friend of hers.

Pathetic, sang the music.

Blake was probably rocking Scarlett in his embrace. I was afraid to lift my face from the floor because it burned so badly.

My humiliation was complete, even without Harold grabbing my wrists again in his iron grip and dragging me up to my feet. "Let's dance to celebrate your Mark, little Omega."

I shook my head, felt the headband slip toward my right ear and stopped.

Harold's fingers moved it back into place, deftly avoiding snagging my hair. I didn't really think of him as gentle, but the movement was as close to a caress as I had experienced from a stranger. I shrink from it.

"Harold!" the Lilac Girl cried out with a nasal lilt, like she was pouting. "Leave this loser alone and come dance with us!"

"Busy!" he snapped and gave me a shake. My hand landed on his biceps for stability. His arm planted on my waist. He was strong-arming me into dancing with him!

Panicking, I glanced over my shoulder. The exit wasn't that far.

Another glance proved Blake was still slow-swirling with Scarlett. She put her head onto his shoulder, cloaking his arm with her raven curls and was laughing. I couldn't see his face, but what difference did it make? "Harold, I...I should go."

"No."

"I'm going to scream!"

"Go ahead, make even a bigger fool of yourself. You'll still dance with me if I said so."

Beta's voice was laced with command again. My spine collapsed and my feet stepped in time with his. Whether I wanted to or not, I was dancing with Harold Almarr. He was an excellent dancer, taking all the work onto himself, leading me effortlessly around the ballroom.

For a few seconds, I was lulled into a trance, too tired to think...then the unhappy thought came flooding back.

The grand finale of this evening would be a moonlit walk to the edge of the forest, for a pack howl led by Alpha and the wolves. I didn't want to stick around for it.

My poor heart would break if I had to watch Luna Scarlett stand next to Alpha Blake, holding his hand; had to listen to her weaving her musical howl with his bassy one. The most perfect Luna and Alpha couple in the world, just like Harold had said...

Dammit, the Beta could get into my head so easily...and I was dancing with him. "Harold, I want to leave."

"Stupid girl." Harold scoffed, then his arm relaxed its vise-like grip on my waist. "Run, if you wish. That's what an Omega would do."

I lifted my hand from his shoulder and the Omega Mark shone into my eyes. "Which is what I am. The Goddess says so."

"Yes," he said and chuckled. My predicament--the way he understood it--seemed to be the only thing that could amuse him tonight. "But the trick here is deciding if you're content with it or not. If you are, then run. That's what the Omegas do. But the Omegas who want more, well, they don't run."

I laughed the way he chuckled: unhappily. "They waltz while the pack is making fun of them both." What I wanted to say was, They waltz with obnoxious Betas, but my tongue couldn't handle it.

"They dance," Harold agreed, moving my hand up to his shoulder. "And they smile. And they let all other small and miserable people go to hell."

I spotted Mie. She was juggling two toddlers with a taller, wider, older version of Blake. Reed, I assumed. She was so obviously too busy with her happy family to come to my rescue, that I snorted. Beas were not there. I was friendless in a room full of people bonded by the ties of the pack. The only person who tolerated me for his own nefarious ends, was the man I was already dancing with.

I moved closer to Harold. "Are you speaking from experience?"

"Yes," he replied, "Don't let appearances fool you. I'm not a natural Beta."

"Beta doesn't sound so bad."

"'Not bad' is the enemy of what's right." He waltzed me some more. "Do you feel more confident in your shoes now?"

Mie and Reed were dancing now, with one of the kids riding Reed's shoulders, the other holding hands with their parents. They looked so happy, I was torn between envy and daydreaming. Blake would look like Reed in a few years' time...would he want kids? Play with them? Love the mother of his kids?

I sighed as quietly as I could, to avoid yet another jape from Harold. This was my private tragedy, and I wasn't ready to sell tickets for it yet.

Scarlett looked thrilled, her greedy hand squishing Blake's. He repositioned her every once in a while to keep me in his sights, but he didn't excuse himself and go to me.

While he danced with Scarlett, I couldn't really stop dancing with Harold, this much was clear to me. Plus, the girl in lilac ogled Harold's tall figure and glared at me within a striking distance. For her benefit, I laughed, like I was having the time of my life.

Hopefully, Blake and the entire pack could see it too, that I was there. That I mattered, despite the glowing Mark on my wrist that branded me as an Omega.

Just like Harold had advised me. Speaking of Harold...he leaned in and whispered complete nonsense into my ear.

"Thank you," I replied, giggling like mad. "Thank you very much for the lesson and for your help. You didn't have to help me, and you did."

"You know how to repay me, little Omega," he said, but without his previous intensity.

I wondered if I imagined a strange spark in his eyes. His irises were such a unique color, it confused me when it came to reading his emotions. But I liked him. Not the way I liked Blake, not even in the way the girl in lilac liked Harold. Just as a person. A fellow werewolf who wanted more than the Goddess dealt him.

And maybe, if he was digging under any other Alpha, we could have been friends. But Harold wanted to dance with me to unbalance Blake, to force him make mistakes...and all the joy of my tiny social triumph evaporated when I thought of that. The joy of the party left me cold and hollow.

Maybe, I didn't have to dance with Harold while Blake danced with Scarlett. Maybe, I could just leave.

"I'm sorry, Harold," I said. "I'll get going after all."

This time he didn't stop me, probably guessing that it would be useless.

I exited the room with my chin held high, but dying on the inside. I left the Solstice Ball without dancing with my fated mate.

Instead, Scarlett danced with him to the cheers of the entire pack. I never wanted to be her as badly as I wanted to tonight...and it was impossible. The Omega Mark on my wrist said so. I scratched at it, but it didn't diminish its glow.

The tears I was choking back forever, dripped from my eyelashes. I was rejected again, this time by the pack. If only Blake could notice my absence and come to see me, like he did this morning...make it hurt less. Make this disaster alright somehow.

I reached out to him like I did during the rogues' attack, as naturally as a sunflower reaches to the sun. Blake?