Let The Years Be

LUCY'S POV

The realization that I would be turning 18 soon spread internal dread throughout my body. Turning 18 was typically magical for us werewolves. We could finally scent out our mate—our soul mate, our “Goddess-given” true love.

If we are being honest, the thought made me gag.

That last thing I needed or wanted was a mate.

Thankfully, I was able to get my hands on a descenter.

When used, my scent went neutral, giving a slight, earthy aroma that would allow me to go undetected without any alarm bells ringing. 

When I was 14, my Alpha father killed my mom in cold blood. She was his true fated mate.

She was the most selfless, loving she-wolf, giving to others without considering what she would gain in return.

My father, on the other hand, was greedy and controlling. He hid me from our pack my entire life. I wasn’t allowed to leave the pack house, and he never claimed me in front of any pack member. 

When my mom was pregnant with me, he relocated her until my birth so that no one would know of my existence.

He said my mom was weak for not giving him a male heir. It was safe to say that he was ashamed of me.

I got used to being called a “guest” in my house.

Since my Alpha aura wouldn’t come until I was 18, no one batted an eye or second-guessed my father's explanation. 

“Yes, Alpha,” I bowed after bringing wine to the pack's elite members during their monthly meeting. He was the first Alpha not to use force or belittle me during these interactions, and I was thankful for that.

When my father murdered my mom, I was the only witness, and I fled. He claimed she took her own life, and once again, no one second-guessed him. 

I was captured and considered a rogue slave. They practically passed me around like a hot potato.

I have been in the Cresent Moon Pack for the last couple of months.

They’re more civilized than most, and I hope to stay here for a while.

I have used the descenter since I arrived, knowing my 18th birthday would be coming up; I didn’t want to make anyone question my scent. 

“How old are you, Lily?”  Alpha Leander asked me as I poured his drink.

He was handsome, and I had to keep myself in check around him. I also never revealed my real name. I was too afraid of my father finding me.

I had heard rumors of him in search of a woman, but I never heard of the reason he claimed to be searching.

Of course, he could never tell anyone that I was the only living witness to the murder of my mother or that I was his daughter, the only heir to his throne. 

“I will be 18 soon, Alpha Leander,” I said politely with a bow before moving to the next glass.

“Do you enjoy serving Lily?” he asked me. I could feel the tension of the others in the room when he asked me such a question.

“It’s my pleasure to serve such a powerful Alpha like yourself,” I lied.

He was powerful, but I hated pouring drinks and standing around like my only worth was looking pretty for other wolves to enjoy.  

He looked at me with a smirk, like he knew what he wasn’t supposed to know, or maybe it was that no one in their right mind would enjoy this type of position in a pack.

They might as well refer to me as a slave since that’s truly what I was.

“Are you lying to me, Lily?” He said my name with a deeper tone than the rest of his words, causing an icy tingle to spread down my spine.

All the other wolves in the room were either shifting uncomfortably in their seat or staring at me now.