Chapter 1

"Mama, Papa, I shall be reaching the age of eighteen next week. Verity delicately arranged the flower she had offered to them, and with a solemn tone, she uttered, "The day that both you and I dread shall arrive."

With a heavy heart, she took up the shovel and began to dig fixing their grave. The earth was hard and unyielding, but she persisted, driven by a sense of duty and love for her departed mother.

It was a task that no child should have to undertake, but she was determined to see it through to the end. As she worked, memories flooded her mind - of her mother's laughter, her gentle touch, her unwavering love. And yet, even as she mourned her loss, she knew that she had a solemn duty to fulfill.

For her mother had done the same for her father, years ago. It was a like a tradition that had been passed down to her before, a final act of love and respect for those who had gone before.

And so before she dug, her hands blistered and her back aching, until at last the grave was ready. With tears in her eyes, she gently laid her mother to rest, knowing that she had done all that she could to honor her memory.

At the tender age of twelve, she found herself living in solitude. She embarked on a journey of self-sufficiency, determined to acquire the skills necessary to cultivate crops, rear livestock, and tend to her own needs.

Through tireless effort and unwavering commitment, she taught herself the art of sustenance, mastering the intricacies of farming and keeping animals with a steadfast resolve.

In addition, she perused volumes within the confines of the city library. Despite being barred from the schools and other establishments owned by the Alpha in the city, she refused to succumb to ignorance.

The woman slipped into the library with utmost secrecy, for she was intimately acquainted with the aging librarian who had once been a dear friend of her mother's.

In this bustling metropolis, she found solace in the company of a single, elderly woman who seemed to be the only one who truly cared for her well-being. Each of them appeared to be afflicted with an ailment that was being deliberately sidestepped due to the actions of her mother.

It was customary for young women, aged between eighteen and twenty-one, to attend the annual lycan mating ball, where they would select their life partner.

As a young woman transitions from nineteen to twenty-one, she is faced with the expectation of finding a suitable partner. However, should she surpass the prescribed age and no lycans have chosen her, she is then free to select a companion of her own choosing to fulfill the role of her future boyfriend or husband.

That was the rule. Before the humans, the lycans shall have the privilege of choosing first. At the tender age of Verity, she possessed a wealth of knowledge about lycans and the world at large. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a young lady possesses a natural inclination towards intelligence.

"I'm fine if the lycans don't pick me as their leader, Mom and Dad. A good life expectancy of twenty-two is most important to me," she said, speaking between two graves.

As a consequence of their transgressions against the law, the mother and father were cast out from their respective families as a form of retribution.

She was acutely aware of her parents' prestigious lineage, a family known for their wealth and unwavering support. However, their own flesh and blood had turned a blind eye as they were subjected to ridicule and torment at the hands of both humans and lycans alike.

The Alpha's son, hailing from this very city, had his heart set on selecting her mother as his life partner. However, his request was denied, much to the chagrin of the Alpha. The unfortunate turn of events led to the son's untimely demise, leaving the Alpha in a state of deep anguish.

Even in death, they remained unnoticed by their families. She was left to fend for herself, with no one to tend to her needs.

Her parents had been cast out to the fringes of the city, where naught but untamed wilderness and the winding river awaited them. Born and raised amidst the lush greenery of the forest, she had always felt a deep connection to the natural world around her.

Verity's days were a living nightmare, a constant battle to protect herself from the predatory advances of men who sought to exploit her vulnerability.

Had it not been for her cunningly laid traps and arsenal of weapons, it was highly probable that their objectives would have been achieved.

In this world, she is regarded as a woman afflicted with a contagious ailment. She was deemed an eyesore by those around her.

As she pondered over her lack of preparation, she couldn't help but think to herself, "Despite my lack of studying, my intellect surpasses theirs." She carefully tended to the candle she had crafted.

The bequest left by her parents was a potential source of funding for both her education and livelihood. However, the mere thought of utilizing the funds for such purposes evoked a sense of avarice, particularly given the fact that her parents were well-known figures in the community.

The funds had been discreetly concealed within the subterranean chamber that she had constructed beneath her dwelling.

Whenever she desired to make a purchase, she was compelled to conceal her countenance. It is preferable for her to remain unnoticed by others. Verity dedicated herself to mastering the art of carpentry, as well as any other skills that would prove useful in her day-to-day existence.

"I shall return to my humble abode, dear Mother and Father. As the sun began to set and the shadows grew longer, she turned towards the final resting place of her beloved parents and spoke softly, "The hour grows late, and I must prepare my evening meal."

With a bittersweet smile, she gazed upon the solemn gravesite, knowing that her parents were no longer with her in the physical realm.

With a heavy heart, she resigned herself to the fact that there was no other option but to carry on with her existence. She made her way back to the place she called home. As she gazed upon the object that had been left at her wooden gate, her brow furrowed in confusion. Merely an envelope lay before them.

She whispered to herself, "I wasn't even called," as she retrieved what the postman had delivered.

As she stepped into the house, she shook her head in a gesture of disapproval. With a graceful movement, Verity carefully laid the object on her desk before securing her luscious locks with a delicate tie.

She made her way back to the gate, her steps quick and determined. Without hesitation, she reached for the lock and secured it with a resounding click.

Every night, the woman would ignite the lamp she made, which served as her sole source of illumination. She took great care to ensure that even the door of her cabin was securely shut.

The dwelling before her had been mended using timber hewn from the nearby woods. With a bundle of materials clutched tightly to her chest, she made her way to the bustling heart of the city. Her face was shrouded in secrecy, hidden from the prying eyes of passersby.

The woman began to prepare a meal. The evening meal consisted of a modest yet satisfying spread of sweet potatoes, fried fish, and a medley of vegetables. In addition, she had had access to milk sourced from her very own cow and goat.

With a hopeful glint in her eye, she implored the mother's acquaintance to procure for her a set of tools and a few domesticated creatures to tend to.

In the midst of the dense forest, where her family had been forcibly displaced, she erected a humble farmstead.

A bitter smile played on her lips as she contemplated the inevitable  retribution that awaited those who had forsaken her beloved parents. Her parents were content to simply bask in their love for one another, taking no action beyond that.

As she served herself, she muttered under her breath, "May they rot in the fiery depths of hell." As the darkness descended upon her, she found herself dining in solitude.

As she took a bite of her food, a hollow feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. She longed to fill the emptiness, but no matter how much she ate, the void remained. She was powerless to change the situation, resigned to endure the ache of hunger and longing.

With a deep breath, she carefully tore open the envelope, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. Though she already knew what lay inside, she couldn't resist the urge to read its contents once more.

Verity Catina Eirian, her full name was written in bold letters. This is an invitation to next week's mating ball.

Despite not receiving an invitation, she was aware that he was obligated to attend.

She grumbled to herself as she ate her food, feeling as though those people were determined to make her appear foolish. Her voice was barely audible as she mumbled, and her head shook slightly in a gesture of disagreement.

Her love for reading was evident as she settled onto her plush, makeup-stained sofa after finishing her meal. Verity drew the lamp nearer to her, its warm glow casting a soft light upon the pages of her book. This was her slumbering abode.

In addition to the inheritance from her mother, a close family friend had bestowed upon her a shotgun. For years, that thing had been her protector. Next to her lay the gun.

As she delves into the pages of her book, the young girl becomes acutely aware of the world around her. She feels the gentle breeze that rustles the leaves outside her window and the softness of her blankets as she prepares to drift off to sleep. Her abode was situated in the depths of the basement, a place where malevolent gazes could not penetrate.

She whispered to herself, "I can finally wear the gown that Mama bestowed upon me."

Before her untimely demise, her mother had taken great care to prepare her for the upcoming ball. Her mother had imparted those lessons to her before the grand ball, as was customary.

A smile graced her lips as she entertained the notion of her mother swelling with pride at her accomplishments. She blossomed into the enchanting woman she is today. Her strength and self-sufficiency were evident to all who knew her.

She was often the subject of male attention, particularly from lycanthropes who would kneel before her in reverence.

As it has been remarked by others, she is the offspring of a corrupted lineage and yet, she possesses a striking beauty that surpasses that of her contemporaries.

Her beauty was truly one-of-a-kind, with lips painted a bold shade of red, a small nose with a pointed tip, and eyes that were shaped like delicate almonds, with deep brown orbs that seemed to hold a world of secrets within them.

Her luscious locks cascaded down her back, reaching all the way to her waist. The lustrous locks emanated a delightful fragrance, owing to the use of natural shampoos like coconut milk. Her skin resembled that of fine porcelain, smooth and flawless to the touch.

The young woman pondered over the characteristics that her mother's friend had bestowed upon herself, for they were words that spoke to her beauty.

She gazed longingly into the horizon, her heart heavy with the weight of unrequited love. With a wistful sigh, she whispered to the wind, "I just hope that someone will choose me as his mate."

The girl was fraught with worry, for even as she perused the pages of her book, she found herself unable to focus her thoughts.

Her demeanor exuded an unwavering confidence that fate would bring forth a formidable lycanthrope to choose her as their mate, thus ensuring that no one would dare to belittle her.

Verity let out several deep sighs. With fervent devotion, she prayed that her plea would reach the divine ears of God. Throughout her solitary existence, Verity desire had been the sole longing of her heart.  A lycan-mate possessed the power to elevate her from the depths of despair and isolation.