Chapter 1- Proposition
*Flashback*
"And what happened to the father bear, Mumma?" eight-year-old Lucy asked, her big blue eyes wide with curiosity.
Her mother, Wilma, chuckled softly and tucked the unicorn blanket around Lucy’s small frame. “Sweetheart, we’ll finish the story tomorrow. It’s way past your bedtime.”
She pressed a kiss to Lucy’s forehead, brushing back her curls with a familiar, gentle hand.
That was the last time Lucy saw her mother alive.
The next morning, she woke up to chaos. Loud voices, heavy footsteps, the air thick with panic.
Still half-asleep, Lucy tiptoed out of her room and froze at the sight in the hallway. A tall man, dressed in black, stood over her mother, stabbing her again and again.
“Mumma!” she screamed, racing toward them. But the man didn’t even glance her way. He slipped out the back door and disappeared.
Lucy dropped to her knees beside her mother’s bleeding body. Wilma’s breaths were shallow, crackling with every second that passed.
Then came the sound of footsteps behind her.
“What the—Wilma!” her father’s voice boomed. He shoved Lucy aside and dropped to his knees beside his mate. His hands were shaking.
And then he turned on Lucy.
“You!” he spat. His eyes were already darkening. “I knew you were cursed. I should’ve ended this the day you were born.”
“Dad, no! It wasn’t—” Lucy tried to speak, but his hand was suddenly around her throat, pinning her to the floor, his rage blinding.
She couldn’t breathe.
She couldn’t move.
Lucy gasped awake, choking on her own breath. Her heart was pounding, her hands shaking. Another nightmare.
They never stopped.
She pulled her blanket tighter around herself, whispering, “Mumma…” Her voice cracked. “I miss you so much.”
All she had left of her mother was a small silver locket. It still smelled faintly like her — rose oil and cinnamon. That scent was the only thing that reminded her she’d once been loved.
Now, she was just the girl who’d been accused of killing her mother.
No one had questioned how an eight-year-old could even do something like that. The dagger had her fingerprints, and no one had seen the killer except her. On top of that, an old witch’s prediction hung over her head like a death sentence — that she was cursed from birth.
Her father believed it. The pack believed it. And the moment Wilma’s body turned cold, Lucy stopped being the beta’s daughter.
She became a servant. An omega. An outcast.
Today was no different. She was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the floor when Gina strutted in, her usual cruel smirk in place.
Without warning, Gina kicked the mop bucket, sending dirty water sloshing across the freshly cleaned tiles.
“I just cleaned that,” Lucy murmured, her head still lowered.
“What was that?” Gina hissed. “You murdering little bitch—are you seriously talking back to me?”
Before Lucy could even flinch, Gina’s foot slammed into her side, knocking the wind out of her. Lucy curled herself, biting back tears.
Gina wasn’t even her real sister. Just the daughter of the woman her father married after Wilma died. But that didn’t stop her from treating Lucy like a dirt or worse….
No one ever stepped in. No one ever asked questions.
Even some of the other omegas took cheap shots when no one was looking. Lucy had learned to stay quiet. Silence was survival.
Gina raised her hand again, ready to strike, when a voice rang out from behind her.
“Miss! The Alpha’s asking for you.”
Gina paused, annoyed. “What?”
Jolene stood a few feet away, arms behind her back, her expression unreadable. “He’s pacing outside the east wing. Looked pretty urgent.”
That did the trick.
Gina blinked, her scowl replaced by a flicker of interest. “Alpha Jayden?”
Jolene nodded once. “I figured you’d want to look your best.”
Gina smirked, immediately smoothing her hair and fixing her top. Without another word, she spun around and strutted off.
Jolene exhaled and crouched beside the trembling girl. “Come on,” she said gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”
“I’ll be fine,” Lucy whispered, trying to stand, but her knees buckled.
“Nice try.” Jolene steadied her and led her down the hall, away from prying eyes.
She glanced down the hall toward the basement steps and paused. She knew exactly what Lucy’s room looked like — cramped, dusty, and probably crawling with things no one should be sleeping next to.
With a quiet sigh, Jolene made a decision.
“Come with me.”
Lucy blinked. “Where?”
“My room,” Jolene said simply. “Just for now.”
"Just stay low. Gina will cool off eventually," Jolene gave her an encouraging smile... "Here, you can change into these and rest for a while here," Jolene told Lucy... "I will cover for you in the kitchen, so no rush. “She offered Lucy fresh clothes and even ran a hot shower for her. Lucy changed slowly, still aching from Gina’s kicks, but grateful for the moment of peace.She didn’t want to take advantage of Jolene’s kindness, so once she was cleaned up, she made her way back toward the kitchen to help out.
She never made it.
Halfway down the corridor, a low growl stopped her in her tracks.
Her heart stuttered.
She turned — and locked eyes with Alpha Jayden.
Those emerald eyes burned through her, and his growl rumbled low in his throat. Everyone around them froze.
“I… I’m sorry, Alpha,” she stammered. “I was just heading to the kitchen….”
“You can’t be my mate,” he said, voice rough with disbelief and disgust.
A hush fell over the corridor.
Lucy blinked. Mate?
She didn’t even have her wolf yet. She was nineteen, sure, but her shift hadn’t come. And even without her wolf, there should’ve been something — a pull, a spark. But all she felt was… nothing.
“What’s going on here?” the former Alpha, Jayden’s father, appeared from behind the crowd.
Jayden didn’t look away from her. “Jase—my wolf—he’s saying she’s our mate.”
Former Alpha Warren raised a brow, studying Lucy. Then his gaze narrowed.
“This can’t be,” Jayden snapped. “She’s a murderer. She can’t be Luna.”
“And I don’t intend to make her one,” he added sharply. “Someone take her away. We’ll deal with this tomorrow. We’ve got more important things tonight.”
Jolene appeared at Lucy’s side just as the crowd began to disperse. Lucy could barely walk.
But before they could leave, Gina stepped into their path.
“Wait a second,” she said, arms folded. “Jo—you said earlier the Alpha asked for me. But he told me he didn’t.”
“I just assumed the Alpha would always be thinking about you. You’re going to be our Luna one day, right?”
That satisfied Gina enough to move aside, preening at the compliment.
Back in their shared room, Lucy broke down.
“I don’t get it,” she sobbed, sinking into a chair. “Why is my life always like this? I just wanted to stay quiet, lay low until I turned twenty-one and could leave this place.”
Jolene crouched in front of her, eyes calm but focused.
“I think I know why this is happening,” she said.
Lucy looked up, confused.
“Because you want out. And so do I,” Jolene said, lowering her voice. “So I have a proposition—one that might just give us both the freedom we’ve been waiting for…”
There was a tension over the Ice Warrior Pack so thick it almost felt alive—like even the wind had gone quiet, listening.Caleb stood at the edge of the pack house steps, his silver hair catching the pale light as he scanned the tree line. Beside him, Lucy stood stiff, arms wrapped tightly over her chest. She wasn’t cold. She was bracing. For what, she didn’t know yet—but her wolf already sensed the shift in the air.Then—crunch.Snow cracked under approaching footsteps.Dante emerged from the trail, cloak billowing behind him like smoke. His eyes glowed with that storm-dark rage that only meant one thing: his wolf was just under the surface, barely held back. The power rolling off him made the snow around his boots hiss, like even nature flinched from him.Lucy took an unconscious step closer to Caleb. Her throat tightened. Dante’s presence wasn’t just commanding—it was feral. The kind that made the air press against your lungs, like it was warning you to mind your tone.Caleb steppe
Snow blanketed everything in the Ice Warrior Pack. Thick, soft, and white. Lucy stood at the edge of the balcony, her arms wrapped in a warm cloak. It still smelled like lavender and something warm and old—magic, probably.She had spent the last three days in the Ice Warrior territory, and it was... peaceful. Healing, even. Time seemed to slow down here; long walks in the snow with Caleb’s wolf trailing just behind hers, Emery dashing through frozen trees with a joy Lucy hadn’t felt in years. Quiet evenings watching Caleb spar shirtless in the training field while pretending she wasn’t watching.She needed this.After everything that happened with Peter—no, not Peter. Not her father. Just the man who tried to destroy her….But here, in a land of frost and blue light, she began to sew herself back together.She had met Caleb’s parents on her first night, still half-shivering from the tension she hadn’t let go of yet.Alyce had met her at the doorway with a warm smile and glowing finger
The corridor behind Alpha Don’s chambers was colder than Jo expected. Torchlight flickered across damp stone, and the deeper they went, the more the air seemed to press against her chest. Pat walked ahead, her steps unhurried.“No guards today,” she said softly, glancing back with a grin. “Must be our lucky night.”Jo didn’t smile. Her instincts were prickling. The door at the end of the corridor loomed like it had been waiting for them. Pat took out a rusted key from beneath her collar and slid it into the lock.The sound it made as it turned—like bones grinding—set Jo’s teeth on edge. Then the door creaked open. The chamber was vast, circular, and lined with ancient shelves. The scent of burnt sage, and something metallic—filled the air. Jo stepped inside slowly, eyes adjusting.“This is where you found it?”Pat nodded. “He never comes here. Not anymore.”They moved deeper into the library until Pat stopped at a lone pedestal in the center of the room.Upon it sat a thick, dusty tom
The faint scent of books and dust still clung to Jo’s clothes as she trailed her fingers across the spines of ancient tomes. The library was pitch black, lit only by a single golden torch hovering above her table. She’d lost track of how long she’d been flipping through records—most written in languages she could only half-decipher. None of them mentioned Malrik. None of them mentioned Hades.A quiet shuffle made her pause. She tensed.Don stood in the doorway, arms folded casually, his voice like velvet wrapped in stone. “Still chasing ghosts?”She shut the book with a soft thud, eyes unreadable. “Some ghosts matter.”He stepped inside. “You’ve been here all afternoon. You should eat.”Jo hesitated, but nodded. “Fine.”Dinner was served in a hushed, candlelit chamber. The table was long, the plates polished, but the food might as well have been ash.He drank slowly, savoring the wine as he leaned back in his chair. “Found anything useful”Jo blinked. “There were some useful informati
Jo wasn’t sure what unnerved her more—the way the air grew colder the closer they got to the Wind Warrior Pack… or the way Alpha Don had been speaking ever since they left.She sat across from him, watching his profile as the forests of the Royal palace blurred past. He hadn’t said much for the past hour, until—“My brother used to love these woods.”Jo glanced up. “You’ve never mentioned a brother.”Don gave a tight-lipped smile. “There’s a lot I don’t mention.”His gaze didn’t shift from the window, but his voice turned heavier, like something long buried was bubbling to the surface.“We were twins. Predicted to follow different paths, one good, one evil.” A cold laugh escaped him. “The Goddess doesn’t like to choose, so she left it up to us. We grew up competing for everything.”Jo frowned. “What happened to him?”Don finally turned to her. His eyes, usually unreadable, were suddenly sharp. Haunted.“I believe he’s still out there. Watching.” Don leaned forward, voice lowering.Bef
Peter hung limp in the chains, his shirt long gone, his chest smeared with bruises, old cuts, and filth. A ghost of the man who had she has once called father.....Caleb was silent beside her. His body hummed with quiet rage, but he didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. Not yet.“Start from the beginning,” he said after a long beat.Peter didn’t move at first. Then slowly, like a marionette tugged to life, he lifted his head.His eyes, bloodshot and ringed with purple, found Lucy.He smiled.“Well,” he rasped, voice like gravel. “The cursed child finally returns.”Lucy didn’t blink. “Tell me the truth.”Peter tilted his head, cracking his neck with an audible pop. “Truth? Funny thing for you to ask, considering you’ve been living a lie your whole life.”Her fingers curled at her sides.“I didn’t kill her,” Lucy said softly. “And you knew it.”Peter’s lip curled. “Of course I did.”The words hit like ice water. Sharp. Immediate. Tears threatening to spill.Lucy staggered a step.“You… knew,