The Rogue’s Bride..

Valtira

I could swear I saw fear flicker in my mother’s eyes just before I turned away.

The soldiers tightened their grip on my arms, bruising my skin with their dirty nails as they dragged me outside the pack house.

Voices drifted as the open air hit my bare skin, and I gasped when I saw the crowd gathered in the large compound.

Even from across the gates, the air was thick with the smell of burning wood. Male wolves stood rigid, their faces looked fierce and angry. Some faces were familiar. I recognized them from the training academy.

“Release the monster!” Someone shouted from the back, and many more voices rose in agreement. “The Alpha has been harboring a monster!”

Monster? My heart slammed against my chest, my lungs, tightening with every chant. The soldiers froze, as shocked as I was.

Monster? Who were they calling a monster? Fangrend Pack—my father’s pack—has always been known for peace. How did all these people end up here?

I drew a shaky breath. Ignoring the chilly shiver that swept up my arm. Whatever this was, it isn’t good.

Suddenly, the sharp trace of my father’s scent filled the compound, mixing with the air. Soon, my mother’s lilac one followed closely behind.

“What’s going on here?” My father demanded coldly.

I sucked in a sharp breath, irritated by their presence, but not bothering to turn around to face them either. Not like I could when I was being held like a little criminal.

“I don’t know, Alpha Nicholas,” the lead Moon Soldier responded quickly. “I don’t know why the pack members are chanting for the monster to be released.”

“It’s obvious they’re talking about Valtira,” My mother’s voice snapped from behind, and my heart nearly exploded from the sudden proclamation.

My eyes narrowed. The view before me was blurry like a haze clouding my vision. I was a top warrior who had been led out of her home like a criminal. In front of the very people I had regarded as family. I am already at my lowest. She doesn't need to pour salt all over my wounds.

“Even if you hate me,” I gritted at her, my eyes burning red, “saying it out loud makes you look weak. You gave birth to me. If I am a monster, then you are a monster too!”

“Don’t talk to your mother like that. She’s right!” My father growled, choosing to support his mate as always. “You have always been bad luck. I just wonder how they found out about you.” His words dripped with disgust.

He stepped forward, moving toward the gates in slow, majestic strides. “What’s going on here?”

The crowd instantly fell silent, intimidated by his aura.

“I said—What in the world is happening here?!” He roars, his Alpha tone, echoing through the large arena.

With trembling fingers, the pack members shrank back, until a man, who seemed to be the leader of the group, stepped out.

“Alpha,” he bowed respectfully, “news has reached us that a cursed being lives among us.”

My father paused for a long moment, holding the man’s gaze, before breaking the silence. “Yes, it’s my daughter. But she’s being sold now, to the Alpha of Duskborne.”

My legs trembled at his words. A cursed being? Me???

To him, I am nothing more than an object. But hearing him admit it so openly—in front of all these people— it hurt. So bad.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by a string of urgent whispers. “Isn’t the Alpha of Duskborne cursed? Why is he selling his own child to him?”

The whispers grew louder. Each one of them, stabbed into me like knives, and I felt my heart shatter into pieces.

“But worry not,” My father declared. “She is leaving now, and our pack will be cleansed of every curse.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, chanting happily at the news of my departure. Among them, I spotted the few faces I knew, the ones who had regarded me so highly in the past for being the Alpha’s heir and firstborn.

Now, they want me gone. A chill ran down my spine as my tensed muscles collapsed in defeat. The only comfort I crave is death itself, but I would not cry.

I only stared at the useless people who dared to call themselves my pack.

My father gestured sharply, and the Moon Soldiers dragged me forward.

As we passed through the gates, silence fell.

Every pair of eyes followed me cautiously, their stares sharp, as if I were some wild beast ready to break loose.

My feet hurt from being pushed and tousled about and outside the gate, we finally halted by a large black carriage. The carriage was drawn by two massive black horses, and the rider sat silently like night itself, not even sparing me a glance.

“Keep moving!” One of the soldiers barked out as they shoved me inside with force. Then he leaned close, his voice cold and unfeeling as he sneered. “Don’t even think of running.”

I lifted my chin and snapped back, “Watch your voice soldier. You’d better remember, you’re just a soldier. And I am your Luna.”

His face turned cold, his displeasure polling in his eyes. He sent me a warning glare and turned away sharply. Just as he was about to signal the rider to move, a faint voice drifted to my ears.

“Valtira!”

The sound crawled over my skin. I knew that voice.

Martina. My parents’ favorite child and my dearest sister. The daughter they worshipped like a goddess.

She pushed through the crowd, her blue gown floating about her as she approached. Severe pity for me was etched across her face as she slipped past the guards, only for it to twist into a cruel sneer as she reached me.

“Oh, my sweet Valtira, I’m sorry this fate has befallen you,” she taunted, placing a lazy hand on the carriage’s window while looking around the little space I was forced to occupy. “I heard the Alpha of Duskborne is cursed… and looks like a pig. Wow, you are so lucky.”

My fingers dug into the hem of my dress.

Typical Martina.

She’d always been a thorn in the flesh. It wasn't a surprise we would part this way as well. She was one to always seize every opportunity to make me feel bad.

Her smile tore me apart, because deep down, I’ve always loved her, but she never loved me.

And as we grew, her hatred sharpened, yet I never found the strength to hate her back. And I despised myself for that weakness.

“Are you happy?” I asked suddenly.

Martina blinked. Clearly startled by my question.

“Yes,” she said at last. “I am.”

“Fine,” I whispered, my voice betrayed a slight tremble, but I caught myself fast enough. “I’m leaving now. You’ll never see me again, never have me to hate. I wish you a happy life.”

Her face faltered. The previous smugness slipped off her face as my words struck her silent.

Suddenly my father’s voice rang out, steady and cold as he strode forward. “You’re going to the rogue pack of Duskborne. Be obedient. Alpha Zarek has zero tolerance for nonsense.”

I huffed. “And what does that have to do with me? I promise you’ll regret sending me off.”

He chuckled darkly. If at all he felt threatened, he didn't show it. “That’s your choice.” He shrugged. “One wrong move, and your head will hang on a stick. All you need to do is bear his child, and everything will be fine.”

I laughed bitterly. A child? “You wish, Father. He’ll send me back, and when he does, you’ll have to return everything he gave you for me.”

His expression hardened to stone. “Don’t make things harder for me, or your head will be ripped off. Why can’t you just be like your sister?”

Once again, my skin crawled at being compared to Martina.

“Let’s go,” I ordered the rider.

The reins snapped, and the horses surged forward. As the carriage rolled away, the tears I’ve fought for so long finally fell.

I sobbed quietly, not daring to let even the soldiers or the rider hear, as my mother’s harsh words echoed in my mind.

Till the very end, I lacked her sympathy and love. Their cruelty made me wonder if I was ever truly their child.

Now I have been sold to bear the child of a beast. A blood-craving wolf. A heartless rogue Alpha who killed people just for the fun of it.

I doubted if I’ll survive a single day in his pack.

We travelled for three endless days. My lips dried out until they bled and my body felt weak with only an occasional stale bread and bottle of milk thrown in once or twice a day. But I’m too broken to even eat or speak.

On the third day, the carriage finally slowed, the horses, snorting against the weight of the reins.

“We’re here,” the rider muttered coldly. “Welcome to Duskborne Pack.”