C2

Freya Ashwolf

Five years after my pup was stolen from my arms, I stood in the grand hall of a massive war vessel cutting through the dark waters of the Blood Moon Oceans. I held my mother's silver bone violin against my chest, tuning the strings with trembling fingers. My omega wolf whined low in my chest, restless, scenting the powerful alpha magic saturating every timber of the ship.

Around me, the rest of the Ashwolf Moon Dominion performers gossiped in hushed, excited whispers about the owner of the vessel, the young Crown Prince of House Nightbane.

"Can you believe High Lord Octavian Nightbane bought this entire war fleet just for the young prince's fifth hatching day?" a cellist whispered. "The boy is barely five years old and already holds total control over the Crimson Dominion's northern territory."

"It was the young prince himself who demanded our pack come perform," a flutist added, her voice green with envy. "Our payment quadrupled the moment House Nightbane signed the contract! Some wolves are born with the favor of the Moon Goddess, while omegas like us scrub floors."

I closed my eyes, my lips curling into a bitter, dry smile. Fate never gave me anything. My father betrayed my mother, abandoning our bloodline the moment his pack territory expanded. When my mother died, Rowan and I were cast into the cold, left with nothing.

I had to sell my own flesh and blood to save Rowan's life. I gave birth to an alpha's pup in the dark and never even got to see his face. Every single day, the phantom ache in my empty belly tore my soul to shreds. My baby would have been five years old this year. I didn’t even know if my child was alive, if he was healthy, or if he was being abused by the rogue who took him.

A shrill, screeching voice shattered my thoughts. "Freya Ashwolf? What are you doing here?"

I snapped my head up, the misty heat in my eyes freezing instantly. Standing right in front of me was Lyra Ashwolf.

She wore a gown spun from silk, her chin tilted high with the same arrogant look she had five years ago back at the pack hall. She strutted toward me, the sharp heels of her boots thudding against the floorboards. "Hah! So you really are alive! I thought you and your useless cripple of a brother died in the rogue lands years ago!"

My claws twitched, biting hard into my palms. Rowan's legs were still paralyzed because of her. "If a parasite like you and your mother Moira are still breathing pack air, then Rowan and I are doing just fine. We are waiting for the Moon Goddess to strike you both down."

Lyra’s eyes flashed with rage. "You used to be a weak little omega who couldn't even growl. Look at you now, acting like a bitter bitch."

"I learned from the worst," I snapped coolly. I stood up, gripping my silver bone violin to my chest, turning to walk away from her disgusting scent.

Jealousy flared across Lyra’s face. She couldn't stand seeing me walk tall. Before I could take three steps, her heavy boot shot out and hooked around my ankle.

I stumbled hard, my heavy body hitting the floorboards with a violent crash. The silver bone violin flew out of my hands, hitting the floor and splintering with a sickening crack. Two of the gut strings snapped with a loud, ringing pop.

Sebastian Blackmoor, the orchestra master, rushed into the room. His face went completely pale when he saw the splintered wood. "Freya! Are you insane? Lady Serilda Nightbane personally lent us that sacred instrument from the Nightbane vault! It is priceless! You couldn't pay for this if you sold your body for a hundred years!"

"She tripped me!" I shouted, scrambling to my knees and glaring at Lyra. "It wasn't my fault! She put her foot out on purpose!"

"Me?" Lyra gasped, clutching her chest with fake innocence. "Don't lie to cover your own clumsy mistakes! You tripped over your own fat feet! If I were you, I'd crawl to Lady Serilda right now, beg for mercy, and get out of the pack house before you ruin us all."

"She's right," Sebastian growled, grabbing my wrist so hard my bones cracked. "You aren't performing today. I'm taking you to Lady Serilda to apologize, and then you are exiled from the orchestra for good!"

"No!" Cold panic flooded my veins. "Mr. Blackmoor, please! If I lose this job, I can't afford Rowan's herbs! I didn't drop it!"

"Why should she be the one to apologize?" a deep, calm, childish voice echoed from the doorway. "The one who should be kneeling is that foul-smelling wolf over there."

I turned my head toward the heavy oak doors. Standing in the entrance was a tiny boy wrapped in dark velvet robes. He wore clear-lens glasses perched on his nose, his dark eyes sharp and cold.

Beside him, two towering Royal Sentinels stood at attention, their alpha aura filling the entire hallway.

My heart hammered against my ribs, reacting to a strange, terrifying pull in my blood that made my omega wolf howl inside me.

"Young Prince..." Sebastian stammered, instantly dropping to his knees.

The little boy ignored him completely. He walked right past the sentinels, his small boots clicking on the floor. He lifted his hands, grabbed the clear-lens glasses off his face, and folded the frame closed, one temple at a time.

He stopped right in front of me, his dark eyes staring directly into mine.

"I saw the whole thing," the boy said, his voice echoing with absolute alpha command. "She tripped my guest. Sentinels, throw that fake lady into the ocean."