A Caged Wolf

(Natalie's POV)

The house buzzed with activity beneath my feet. I could hear the excited voices, the hurried footsteps, and the occasional burst of laughter. The Redwood pack had arrived early to perform the pre-mating ceremony, and the entire Silverstone pack compound was alive with celebration.

Except for my room.

I sat in the most secluded spot in the house – a locked room on the third floor where I'd spent the last ten years of my life. My tiny space contained only a bed, desk, and an easel in the corner. No space for additional furniture, no room to breathe.

I mixed paints on my palette, focusing on getting the right shade of green. Outside my window, I could see the ancient oak trees of Silvercrest Valley swaying in the gentle breeze. The forest called to me, to my wolf Vega, but we remained locked away, forgotten.

"This is a special day for the pack," I whispered to myself, dipping my brush into the paint. "Cassidy's mating day."

My cousin Cassidy, the pack's eldest daughter and my personal tormentor since childhood, was finally getting what she wanted – power and status through mating with Connor Redwood. I'd heard enough about Connor to know he was just as cruel as she was.

Two monsters finding each other. How fitting.

I focused on my canvas, letting the brush strokes calm me. This painting wouldn't be seen by anyone important – like all my work, it would either be claimed by my aunt Victoria or sold by my uncle Richard without acknowledgment. But painting kept me sane.

By noon, the commotion downstairs reached a fever pitch. I could hear Cassidy's shrill voice commanding everyone around her. Soon after, the noise died down as she was escorted by Connor to the ceremonial clearing.

The house fell silent, until the heavy footsteps approached my door. The lock turned with a loud click that echoed in my small room.

"Natalie." Walter Reed's voice held no emotion as he pushed open the door. "You are permitted to dine now."

I set down my brush carefully. "Thank you, Walter."

Walter Reed, my uncle's enforcer, watched me with cold, expressionless eyes. I'd long ago given up trying to find any compassion there.

"Don't dawdle," he ordered as I walked past him.

The dining hall felt cavernous with no one else present. I sat at the very end of the long table, in the lowest position, as I'd been taught. Even with no one to witness it, breaking pack hierarchy rules meant punishment.

A simple plate of food sat waiting for me. The pack cook had left it covered to keep it warm – one of the few kindnesses I received in this house.

Walter stood by the wall, watching me eat. His posture never changed, his expression never shifted. Like a machine programmed to perform a function without emotion or weakness.

"Is Grandmother eating?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"The Elder is resting," Walter replied flatly.

My grandmother Elaine was the only person in the pack who showed me any affection. But her mind was failing, slipping away more each day from moon sickness.

When I finished eating, I stood and pushed in my chair carefully.

"May I go to the garden to shift?" I asked Walter. "Just for a short run?"

He gestured for me to follow him to the back door. When we reached it, I saw a large padlock securing it closed.

"The Alpha has ordered all exits secured during the mating festivities," Walter explained.

"I only want to see the old oak trees," I said quietly. "Just a simple walk."

His face remained impassive. "Natalie, you cannot go to the garden."

I nodded, accepting the restriction as I had accepted so many others over the years. "I understand."

"Return to your room," Walter commanded.

I climbed the stairs back to my tiny prison, where my easel and paints waited. At least I could escape through art, even if my body remained caged.

(Florian's POV)

"You can't seriously be wearing that," Zack Hunter said, looking at me with disbelief as we approached the territory's central gathering hall.

I glanced down at my casual henley and worn jeans. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

Zack rolled his eyes. "It's a formal mating ceremony, Florian. You're supposed to wear a suit, or at least a dress shirt. You know, make an effort?"

I shrugged. "I wasn't planning on attending any ceremony tonight."

"Yet here you are," Zack grinned. "Come on, the Silverstone-Redwood mating will be the event of the season. Everyone who matters will be there."

"Which is precisely why I shouldn't be," I replied.

As we entered the venue, heads turned. I was used to the attention – my height, build, and the power that radiated from me naturally drew eyes. Tonight, my casual attire added to the spectacle.

Zack noticed the whispers. "This was a mistake. You're drawing too much attention."

"Your idea, your mistake," I reminded him.

He nodded toward a staircase. "There's a private viewing area on the second floor. You can watch from there without causing a diplomatic incident."

I followed him upstairs to find an empty room with a balcony overlooking the ceremony hall. The view was perfect – I could see everything without participating in the tedious socializing.

"I'll be mingling downstairs," Zack said. "Try not to offend anyone important while I'm gone."

After he left, I surveyed the gathering. Pack politics had never interested me, but understanding alliances was necessary for my position.

A movement near the corner of the hall caught my attention. A young woman in a pearl white dress stood alone, watching the proceedings. Even from this distance, her beauty was striking – far outshining the overdressed females vying for attention.

The dress hung loosely on her slender frame, clearly not made for her. Yet she carried herself with innate grace that made the ill-fitting garment irrelevant.

I watched as other wolves stole glances at her. She seemed oblivious to the attention, her face a careful mask of submission that didn't quite hide the intelligence in her eyes.

After several minutes, another female approached her. Words were exchanged, and the beautiful woman followed her out of the main hall.

I lost interest in the ceremony after that. The tedious speeches and rituals held no appeal. I stepped onto the outdoor portion of the balcony, partially concealed by heavy curtains, to enjoy the natural scenery of Silvercrest Valley.

Ancient trees stretched toward the night sky, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The vast forests beyond the gathering hall called to my wolf, Logan, who preferred wilderness to these social obligations.

The door to the private room opened behind me. I remained hidden behind the curtain, not wanting to engage with whoever had entered.

"I heard you can paint?" A harsh female voice commanded. "Create an image of the mating ceremony."

The door closed, and I heard someone moving around the room. Curiosity made me peer through a gap in the curtains.

It was the beautiful woman from downstairs. She was setting up an easel, her movements practiced and efficient. With her right hand, she began to paint, her posture straight and elegant despite the drooping dress.

I watched in silence, impressed by how quickly the blank canvas transformed under her skilled hand. The emerging image captured not just the scene of the ceremony, but somehow the underlying emotions – the pride, the greed, the calculated social maneuvering.

Throughout the ceremony, she painted without pause. I noticed she hadn't eaten anything, though servers had passed through the hall multiple times with food and drinks.

As the mating ceremony concluded with celebratory howls for the final prize drawing, I decided it was time to leave. I pulled back the curtain to enter the room just as the woman suddenly threw her paintbrush to the floor with her left hand.

(Natalie's POV)

I turned at the sound of movement and froze.

A man stood by the balcony – tall, athletic, radiating Alpha power that filled the room. Unlike the other Alphas I'd encountered, his scent accentuated rather than masked who he was. Cedar and icy snow, wild and untamed.

His strong physique was clearly visible through his simple shirt, muscles defined like a predator ready to pounce. Dark hair with unusual silver highlights fell across his forehead, and amber eyes that seemed to see right through me.

I smelled him, the scent of cedar and icy biting snow, and my wolf Vega cried out in my mind, "It's our mate, found him!"