Ceres was born to the alpha and Luna of the Harvest Moon Pack. After losing her father tragically, she becomes a slave in the new alpha’s home, even though he has taken her mother as his new Luna. Ceres’ destiny is set to be revealed as her moon ceremony approaches. Will she find her mate and take back her father’s estate?
Lihat lebih banyak"Three hundred years ago, the people of the lands were engaged in a Great War. There was famine and violence. The people suffered greatly as the noble houses of the realm fought for overall leadership.” The firelight danced in my father’s eyes as he began to weave his story. On Saturday nights we would BBQ and sit around the fire pit and tell stories.
“The people of the realm struggled to feed their children as the fields of the realm burned with the bodies of fallen men. The alphas of each house had become corrupt and only cared about their own selfish needs. After centuries of the packs governing as a panel to fulfill the needs of the people, it had warped into padding the wealth of the alpha at the expense of all others. This of course led to a gridlock on the panel. Absolutely nothing could be agreed upon.” He leaned in closer to the fire and the flames danced in the center of us.
“It became common place to kill alphas and their children and install new alphas in the hopes of gaining greater influence and riches. The violence reached a point where all the noble houses were warring against one another and within their own families. The line of succession and your placement on the list was either an opportunity to live a life of wealth and privilege or a death sentence. Being in the line of succession was not for the weak of heart.”
“The alpha of the Kingdom of the Moon, Alpha Malakai, was especially shrewd. It is said he was mated to an Omega. He cursed her and the moon goddess for pairing him with someone who he felt was beneath him.”
I gasped.
“Oh my sweet child,” my father cooed, “the goddess made your mate especially for you. Rank is a construct of man. If the goddess has chosen your mate, who are we to question it? Your destiny and theirs is intertwined. An omega is no less worthy than a king.”
“So the Alpha killed his omega mate. He couldn’t stand for her to have another because she was his, but he refused to accept the weak girl.” My father paused. He loved a dramatic pause. His face shifted to a serious and somber expression.
“Alpha Malakai had the best warriors in the kingdom. They trained relentlessly. The pack would not accept any weakness among their ranks. They hatched a scheme to kidnap all the children of the Alphas of each pack. Malakai planned to hold them hostage in exchange for each pack swearing fealty to him and proclaiming the Kingdom of the Moon pack the King and overall Alpha of the realm.”
I gasped. The idea of being taken from papa and mother shook me to my core. “Th-that’s awful” I stammer barely above a whisper.
I awoke drenched in sweat. My fathers words suffocated me. It won’t be long before the goddess reveals my mate to me. What path would she choose for me? I often dreamed of the stories father would tell me. Especially that story, as it was the last one before he died.
“We hear your call, now hear our words.” A voice whispers from beyond the circle. I stand rigidly. The voice creeps up my spine, my hair standing on end. My eyes scan the circle’s edges, seeking the body associated with the voice. Their faces are all blurred, their features too hard to make out. Clearly different from one another but also oddly the same. I feel myself drawn, like a moth to the flame, closer to the edge thinking that I may see them more clearly. I edge closer to the boundary, hoping to steal a look. “Do not break this circle!” Asteria seems to scream, the words halting my body midstride, frozen in her warning. I look toward her over my shoulder, and see the panic in her eyes, her stoic expression a mask for my comfort. Theia sits stoically in the dead center of the circle, alert but still as a grotesque perched high on a stone building, a quiet observer. “Take my hand!” Asteria orders, her hand outstretched toward me. I look to my feet and gasp at their prox
I don’t think I will ever get over how magic works in this world. It’s a strange feeling to go most of your life believing that magic, real magic, was nothing more than a story to tell around the fire. That actual magic was found only in the first breaths of babies being born, not actual conjuring and manipulation of the universe. That walking through doorways into different dimensions were the fantasies of mad men and stories meant to scare children into minding their mothers. In these moments, when I witness the actual power of magic, I am both awestruck and terrified. How many moments of my life have been manipulated by magic? How do I know what is real and what is a magical mirage?“There are many things happening before you but hidden from view.” Asteria says quietly. “Magic is a blessing from our Goddess. It should be revered not feared.”“This is the biggest day of our lives. The day we seal our marriage to our mate. Let us rejoice. There are many other days ahead to worry.” T
This is the picturesque final scene of the fairytale. The beautiful maiden, who has managed to overcome hardship, is now a perfectly coiffed stylish bride. At least, that’s the image I am attempting to curate. I am who I create. I think back to all the elegant ladies I observed while serving in the Alpha house. Their rigid posture. Their chins perpendicular to the floor, elongating their necks, like delicate swans. Their meticulously styled appearance. Every decision carefully made. My style has more in common with a tornado than a curated art museum. Getting ready is a mad whirl around the room, every second spent is a robbery of my sleep, my appearance only needing to be neat and clean. Not anymore. Sleep is heaped in ample servings here. My only chore is getting ready. “I pray the Goddess guides me on my intended path.” I whisper quietly, my eyes shut tightly. I glance toward the clock. I am sure that someone will arrive to escort me to the temple in the next half hour. My wedd
I understand the appeal of a fairytale. The maiden in the story always has some terribly tragic circumstance befall her; but, when it is most important her stunning beauty allows her to rise the ranks to become a princess. Her face card is her entrance to the club most have to be born into. Her beauty is too great to be mired in obscurity. Her time in the bowels of the beast only add to her appeal; later, her “humble” beginnings are trotted out to prove she is one of the people, too beautiful not to be elevated to her supreme status, but also still ordinary and “just like us”. In truth, most of the women married within this world come from it. Those tales too predictable and bland to be worthy of a fairytale, or perhaps, the truth doesn’t hit the same for the masses. They must believe that if they are also beautiful enough, they too can escape. Those escapes are few and far between, but here I am, one of them. I suppose my beauty and power are enough to elevate me from my place in the
“This.” I say as my fingers trace along the filigree. “This is magnificent.” I am in awe of the beauty of it. Diamonds all perfectly matched set in gold. Small crescent moons hide in the filigree, only clear with the moonstones set inside them. The crests of each pack of the realm are hidden and set with diamonds. I would have missed the detail had I not immediately recognized the crest on my own homeland. Perhaps that is the test of the Queen. Do I pick one of the pieces that more heavily represent Harvest Moon? Or perhaps my statement is gaudy wealth, I am sure many will expect that. When you claw yourselves out of the bowels, you tend to display your material achievements like a soldier’s medals. This one though, it tastefully pays homage to each pack of the realm. I am to be Princess of Fives, it is only right to represent all of them. “Take off the gown so that I can attach the sleeve, m’lady.” Monica orders, her attention focused on the work. I dutifully comply, standing
I look at the sparkling treasure before me. The amount of wealth is astonishing. Just one emerald and some diamond pins cost my mother bushels of food. I trace my finger along the delicate chain at my wrist. This bracelet as well. These jewels laid out before me like a pirate’s treasure, they make my mother’s jewels seem modest and trivial. The weight of the gold and platinum alone is an astonishing show of wealth. The lands of the realm are rich in resources, all part of the royal horde. “We can get you a different bracelet.” Monica offers, noticing my finger running along the golden thread. “No.” I say instantly, refraining from blurting out any explanation. “Very well, m’lady. Are you drawn to anything in particular?” I look into the mirror at my reflection. I am not sure I recognize myself. A witch. A wolf. An Alpha’s daughter. The girl from the kitchens. The slave of Harvest Moon. A bride. This is my metamorphosis. I am being reborn into the Kingdom of the Moon. Princess of
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