Chapter 1 : The Marking

Irene.

"Stand up straight, Irene." My father's voice cut through the celebration noise. "You are embarrassing me."

I straightened my spine, watching pack members laugh and dance around the flames. The Moon Ceremony was supposed to be a night of joy, celebrating the alliance between our pack and the visiting Northern wolves. For everyone else, it was. For me, it was another reminder that I would never quite belong.

"Look at Lyra," Father continued, his eyes on my stepsister as she twirled in her silver dress, commanding attention from every unmated male in the clearing. "See how she represents our family with grace?"

I bit my tongue. Grace. That was the word he always used for Lyra. Never for me, his actual daughter. But then again, Lyra's mother had not been a hybrid rogue he had taken pity on. Lyra's bloodline was pure.

"Yes, Father."

He grunted and walked away, drawn by the Beta's call. I released a breath I had not realized I was holding.

The smoke from the bonfire was getting thicker, making my eyes water. Or maybe that was just an excuse. Either way, I needed air.

I slipped away from the celebration, following the worn path into the forest. The music faded behind me, replaced by the whisper of wind through pine trees. Better, much better.

My hybrid wolf stirred beneath my skin, restless. She always was during moon ceremonies, as if she knew she was different from the pure wolves celebrating behind us. I had learned early to keep her contained, to hide what I truly was. Half wolf, half something else and my mother never lived long enough to explain.

The forest opened into a smaller clearing, moonlight pooling like silver water on the grass. I touched the pendant at my throat, the only thing I had from my mother. At least I had this. This secret power that was mine alone.

A branch snapped.

I spun around, my heart launching into my throat. "Who's there?"

Someone moved.

He emerged from the darkness like he was part of it, and my breath stopped for a second. I had never seen a wolf in human form radiate such power. He was tall with broad shoulders, and eyes that gleamed amber even in human form. Those eyes locked onto me in a way that made my knees weak.

"You should not be out here alone," he said, his voice a low rumble that I felt in my chest.

"I could say the same to you." My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I don't recognize you. Are you with the Northern pack?"

He moved closer, and something in his scent made my wolf surge forward with sudden, desperate need. No. This could not be happening.

"You smell like…" he paused, now close enough that I could see the sharp cut of his jaw, and the fullness of his lips. "What are you hiding, little wolf?"

"I'm not hiding anything." The lie tasted bitter. "And I'm not your little anything."

His eyes flashed. In one fluid movement, he closed the distance between us. I stumbled back, but he was faster. His hand caught my waist, pulling me against a chest that felt like warm stone.

"Let me go," I demanded, but my body was melting into his touch.

"I would," he breathed against my ear, "but my wolf won't let me."

Before I could process his words, before I could scream or fight or run, pain exploded in my neck.

He bit me.

His teeth sank into the soft flesh where my neck met my shoulder, and agony tore through my body. But worse than the pain was what came after. The bond. I felt it snap into place like a chain wrapping around my soul, binding me to this stranger with a force that made my hybrid nature roar to life.

No, no, no.

The bond flooded my senses—his emotions, his presence, the certainty that he was mine and I was his. A fated mate bond.

I shoved against his chest with strength I did not know I possessed. He released me, staggering back, his eyes wide with shock as if he had not meant to do it. As if something had compelled him beyond his control.

"What did you do?" I whispered, my hand flying to my neck. It came away bloody. "What did you just do to me?"

"I…" He reached for me, but I scrambled backward. "Wait, I need to explain."

"Stay away from me!"

I ran.

My legs pumped beneath me as I crashed through the forest, branches tearing at my dress and skin. The bond pulled at me, screaming at me to go back, but horror pushed me forward. I was marked by a stranger. Without my consent. Without even knowing his name.

My father was going to kill me.

I burst into the clearing, and everyone stopped dancing one after the other. Every face turned toward me, and I realized what they saw. My torn dress and the blood on my neck. The unmistakable mark of a mate bite swelling against my skin.

"Irene?" My father's voice was deadly quiet. "What happened to your neck?"

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. How could I explain? How could I make him understand that I had not wanted this, had not chosen this?

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Whispers started like fire catching dry grass.

"She's been marked."

"By who?"

"Look at her, coming back like that. Shameful."

My father's face transformed from concern to fury in the space of a heartbeat. He crossed the area in three long strides, gripping my arm hard.

"Who?" he demanded. "Who marked you?"

"I don't know," I sobbed. "I don't know his name, he just—"

"She's lying." Lyra's voice cut through my explanation like a knife. She appeared at Father's side, her face a perfect mask of shock and disappointment. But her eyes, her eyes held something else. Satisfaction.

She leaned close to Father, whispering in his ear. I watched his face switch from anger to disgust. When he looked at me again, there was nothing but cold contempt in his eyes.

"You have disgraced this family, Irene." His voice carried across the silent clearing. "Come with me. Now."