LOGINThe car stopped all of a sudden, its headlights falling on her fragile body lying on the ground. Just as she tried to stand again, she saw a hand reaching out to her. Without thinking, she took it and tried to stand, but her legs were too weak, and she nearly fell again.
"Why would a young girl like you drink so much?" the man asked, his voice filled with disappointment.
Drunk? Would she blame the man? How could she tell him she hadn’t drunk anything? How could she explain, when the smell of alcohol was all over her and she could barely stay on her feet?
“I’m sorry… thank you,” she whispered, the only words she could manage.
She watched him get back into the car, the same car that almost hit her, and drove away.
Slowly, she limped to the bus shelter and sat down on a bench. Tears filled her eyes. She was hurting terribly, not just from the fall, but from everything that had happened that night.
She wished she had never gone to that party. She wished she hadn’t listened to her mother.
She sat there quietly, drowning in her thoughts, until a sudden honk from another bus pulled her back to reality.
She quickly stood up, biting back the pain in her forehead. Still limping, she made her way out of the bus shelter. When the bus slowed down, she climbed on.
As soon as she entered, people around her frowned, and some even covered their noses. The smell of alcohol was heavy on her, and she must have looked a mess, but it didn’t matter. She was used to the sneers, the glares, and the hateful looks people gave her.
After a long ride, the busy, wide road turned into a narrow, poorly paved one. The tall buildings, mansions, and fancy houses disappeared, replaced by small homes, run-down buildings, and crowded ghettos.
This was her part of the town where she lived. A place with fewer services, fewer amenities and no pretensions. A place where everyone was the same, no matter their background.
Soon, the bus reached her stop and slowed down. She quickly got off and started walking home. People were outside, chatting and laughing, and she greeted them as she passed.
A few wolves were seen trotting toward the wide woods that wrapped around their village. At least the Commoners had one thing better than the elites, a natural space where their wolves could run free and feel the cool wind after a long, tiring day.
The Executives and Middle Class didn’t have that. They always had to come back to this worn-down part of the country just to let their wolves loose.
The thought made her smile. No matter how deep the class divide had grown, the rich, the powerful, and the important still had to return to the Commoners' land for one reason.
Wolves.
Something they all shared. Something that made them equal, if only for a little while.
Soon her small, run-down house came into view. Sitting outside, waiting for her, was her mother. She must have been waiting to hear about the party, and to ask the same old questions: Did you see Edward? Did you talk to him?
As her mother spotted her, she hurried over, but when she got closer, her steps slowed. Her gaze moved over Rosa, her face filled with worry. She didn’t need to ask why Rosa smelled of alcohol or why she looked so worn out. She already knew.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you go," her mother said, her voice breaking into a sob.
"I'm so sorry," her mother cried, tears falling down her face.
Lucille stared at her for a moment, then walked past her without saying a word. She needed to change out of that dress and take a bath.
Once she was clean, she crawled into bed, too tired to think. When her mother noticed she didn’t come out again, she quietly entered Lucille's room, and met her, staring blankly at the ceiling.
"I only wanted you to have fun," Veronica said, kneeling beside her daughter, her voice filled with sorrow.
Lucille slowly turned her head to look at her mother. "Fun? There was no fun for four years, and you expect fun today?" she asked softly.
"Did you see Edward?" Her mother asked, the question Lucille had always dreaded.
Lucille felt a tight knot in her chest. Her forehead throbbed, and she was sure it was swollen, maybe even bruised. But her mother didn’t ask about it. Her mother didn’t ask why she was limping, or why she smelled so strongly of alcohol.
All her mother cared about was the fated mate, the one who had done nothing but bring Lucille pain.
Lucille gave a bitter smile. “He’s more important, isn’t he?”
Veronica gently held her daughter’s hand. “You know that’s not what I meant.” Her daughter meant everything to her, but...
“Did you see him?” Veronica asked again, making it clear that, somehow, he still mattered more, despite what she said.
Lucille chuckled dryly and nodded. "Yeah. I did."
"He will change one day," Veronica said, trying to reassure her.
The same old assurance. Always defending Edward, always taking his side, never her daughter’s.
Lucille scoffed. "Too bad, Mom. It will never happen." She rolled over and pulled the covers tightly around her.
Veronica lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked back at her daughter. "Rose, he..."
"I rejected him today," Lucille muttered, still not looking at her.
Veronica felt as if she had been hit in the chest. Her heart raced in shock as she stared at her daughter.
"What did you say?" she whispered, barely able to believe her own words.
"I rejected him as my mate today," Lucille repeated, her voice firmer this time.
"You… you did what?" Veronica’s voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes wide with shock.
Suddenly, she jumped to her feet and started pacing the room. Her fingers tangled in her hair, and her breathing came out in sharp, shaky gasps. Every step she took was rushed and uneven, like she was trying to outrun the effect of the news on her.
Lucille turned at the sound of her mother’s erratic movement. Confused, she tossed the blanket aside and sat upright on the bed.
"Mom?" she called gently. "What’s wrong?"
"You’ve finished us, Lucille," Veronica choked, her voice breaking into sobs. "They’ll come for us. You don’t understand what you’ve done."
Veronica stumbled toward the wall and leaned against it, sliding down until she hit the floor.
Lucille’s heart raced. Her eyes followed every move. She didn’t understand. Why was her mother panicking like this?
"Mom, I couldn’t take it anymore!" Lucille cried, her voice rising. "He doesn’t want me. He’s humiliated me for years........."
A hand slapped over her mouth, cutting off the rest of her intended words.
"Lower your voice," Veronica whispered, eyes darting toward the door. "Someone might hear."
Lucille stared in stupefaction. How had her mother moved so fast, from the wall to her bedside in just seconds? And why was her mother's breathing rapid? Lucille could feel the tremble in her mother's hand and the wild beat of her heart.
Slowly, she peeled the hand off her mouth, locking eyes with her. "He didn’t want me," she repeated, her voice softer this time, filled with hurt.
"But you shouldn’t have rejected him," Veronica said urgently, fear engrave on every word.
"Mates reject each other all the time," Lucille replied, confused. "It happens, mom."
"Only under two conditions, child," Veronica said in a frightened whisper. "Cheating and physical abuse. And even for cheating, your wolf has to see his wolf in the act."
She leaned in, her eyes burning into Lucille’s.
"Did he do any of that?" she asked, her voice trembling, not with curiosity, but trepidation.
“Yes, he hurt me,” Lucille answered quickly. Edward had hurt her many times, in many ways.
“Did he hit you? Push you? Touch you in any way?” her mother asked, eyes wide.
Lucille shook her head. “No, but he told others to do it,” her voice cracked again.
“Others did it, not him?” Veronica's eyes filled with fear.
“It’s against the law to reject your mate unless it’s for those two reasons,” she whispered, looking toward the door. She rushed over, locked it, and came back to Lucille.
“So what was I supposed to do, Mom?” Lucille asked in confusion.
Her fated mate hated her. He made people humiliate her, insult her, push her around. The pain from others doing it didn’t break her. But knowing he caused it. Him. The one meant to love and protect her, shattered her heart.
“You should have endured it, my child. I taught you that,” her mother said softly, wiping tears from her eyes.
“We’re in serious trouble now. You broke the law, and the officials will come for you."
Her voice trembled as she sniffled. “They won’t wait. They’ll judge you right away.”
Tears streamed down her face. “No one will stand up for us. We don’t have power or money to protect you.”
“His family won’t let this slide. They’re powerful. To them, this is an insult, and you’ll pay for it,” she whispered, then stood up and slowly walked away in despodency.
Lucille felt her head spin. She would face the council? They would judge her? But… why?
The council convened once again for their routine sitting. As always, the members were gathered around the long desk, each in their designated place.Mitch Jones sat in the chair before them. His back was straight, his expression calm, but inside his chest his heart beat like a war drum. He had walked in knowing this would not be an ordinary hearing. He had written the letter himself, knowing the storm it would bring.Lord Arthur, the leader of the council, cleared his throat. His white beard shook as he adjusted the scroll in his hand. His voice was sharp and strong as he began.“Council members,” Arthur said, “we have gathered to address the matter brought forward by High Councilor Mitch Jones. His letter has been received and read. I shall now summarize.”Edward Jones leaned back in his seat among the council members. He folded his arms across his chest, his lips twitching with a smile he tried to hide. His cousin Mitch was about to grant his desire. Edward could already picture
At the close of work, Lucille leaned back in her chair, her mind circling again to the letter she had seen on Edward’s phone. She had tried not to react, but it tore her into shreds.After all the promises Mitch had made, after all the hope he’d given her, was he really going to break the bond? Her eyes welled, she blinked hard, but the tears spilled anyway.Her hand rose to her neck, brushing the place where his mark sat. The familiar warmth of it only made the ache sharper, and more tears streamed down her cheeks.Why couldn’t Mitch have been just an ordinary man, even an omega? Why did he have to be an alpha, and worse, Edward’s cousin?Quickly, she wiped her face, gathered her things, and left the office.The moment she stepped into the reception, her expression darkened. Edward was there, sitting casually.When he saw her, he smiled and rose swiftly to his feet. “Done?” he asked softly.Lucille gave him a steady look, then glanced around. The last thing she wanted was to draw att
When they finally reached the city and the hotel, the night was already far spent.The car hadn’t even stopped fully before Mitch opened the door, stepped down, and gently lifted Lucille into his arms. She was too deep in sleep to notice, her head resting softly against his shoulder.The driver followed behind them with their knapsacks. Inside the hotel room, he dropped the bags on the table and quietly left. Mitch laid her carefully on the sofa. She stirred a little, muttered something unclear, then turned and sank back into sleep.He quickly pulled off his cloak and damp boots, wrapping himself in a bathing robe before preparing a warm bath. Returning to the room, he slipped off Lucille’s cloak, boots, and inner wear with gentle care, then carried her into the bathroom.The moment he lowered her into the steaming water, her eyes shot open. She frowned, blinking at her surroundings in confusion.“We’re back,” Mitch whispered softly as he eased himself into the tub beside her.She
A man stood before him, silent as a shadow, dreadful as a storm. His hair was twisted into long locks that hung around his face. He was not old, not young, but his presence was timeless, like he had lived through ages. On his shoulder sat the creature from before, the monkey-like being with human eyes, staring at them with eerie stillness.But it was the man’s eyes that froze Mitch’s blood. They burned red, glowing like embers in the night, staring with raw hatred.Mitch’s chest clenched. His heartbeat thundered painfully. Every instinct screamed danger. His wolf bristled inside, crouching low, unwilling to challenge this being.Slowly, with trembling hands, Mitch tapped Lucille.She stirred, then opened her eyes, only to scream when she saw the man before them. Her body jolted, pressing close to Mitch, terror flooding her face.The man did not flinch. He only stood there, his gaze locked on them, cold and merciless.Mitch swallowed hard, forcing words out past the tightness in his
Hours later, they reached the creek, just as Pa Wilcox had said.At first sight, Lucille froze. The water was wide, rushing with a force that roared in her ears. The current was fierce, crashing against sharp rocks that jutted up like hungry teeth. Fallen tree branches floated by, spinning helplessly before being dragged under. The spray of water reached them even before they stepped close.Lucille’s throat went dry. “Mitch…” she whispered. “This looks… deadly.”Mitch’s eyes narrowed as he studied the flow. He had fought elites, faced councils, even stood in battlefields, but this creek made his gut twist. The water was alive, dangerous, almost daring them to step in.Lucille’s wolf whimpered inside her, pulling back. Her palms were clammy. What if the current take them? What if they never come out?“We can go back,” Lucille said quickly, her voice shaky. “Maybe there’s another way.”“No,” Mitch replied firmly. “Pa Wilcox was clear. The creek is the only passage.”“But… what if it’s
Lucille nodded quickly. “He’s in the sitting room. He wants to see you.”Louis blinked hard, as if he had misheard. “The High Councilor?”“Yes,” Lucille said firmly. Then she added, almost in a whisper, “My mate.”Louis’s throat tightened. “He… he wants to see me?” His voice trembled with disbelief and panic.“Yes. He wants to meet my brother,” she repeated.Louis shook his head in shock, his voice rising in protest. “And you didn’t tell me you were coming with him?”“It just happened,” Lucille replied impatiently, tugging at his arm toward the door. She couldn’t risk him asking too many questions. She would never mention Pa Wilcox or the Tribunal.“You should have at least texted me,” Louis muttered, refusing to budge. How could she just walk into the house with such a powerful man without warning? He would have prepared himself, braced for it.“And Mom?” he asked nervously.“She saw him already,” Lucille said quickly. “But I told her he’s your friend.”“What—how did he become my—”







