Chapter 1: The Mating Ritual

Layla

Blood dripped down my arm and splattered onto the floor I was trying to clean. I sighed. Just another shitty day in my world.

Crack.

Ben’s belt slammed across my back, and its sound echoed through the otherwise silent laundry room. My blood spattered on the floor again.

“Now you have made a mess. Clean it up,” Ben sneered.

Over the years, Ben had evolved from episodic-violent to outright monstrous. Impressive, really. Not everyone could graduate from bastard to a complete piece of shit.

My back burned. I rubbed my eyes and gagged as his disgusting Gamma scent filled the air.

“Clean faster!” he barked, bringing the belt down again with Gamma-level strength.

Ben called himself a retired Gamma “war hero.” Personally, I preferred monster, pig, scumbag, waste of air. But sure, hero works too, if we are redefining the dictionary.

At twenty, I was beginning to suspect Ben had a personal vendetta against my skin. Maybe he was jealous that I still had more of it than he did. If he wanted to be fat like me, he could just say so. Why act like such a piece of shit all the damn time?

I scrubbed faster as blood and soap swirled together on the floor, gently fantasizing about shoving the brush down his throat and watching the life drain from his eyes.

Not today, Layla. Today was “divine” as the annual mating session would begin at night.

The laundry room was empty now. I was cleaning the aftermath of a laundry-room brawl started when a Gamma soldier decided my ass was his for the taking, and I knocked bleach and detergent on him in retaliation.

I was a human slave, which meant I was a half-wolf by blood but with no wolf inside me. That made me the kingdom’s favorite punching bag. Omegas and Gammas groped me for fun. Betas called me “too dirty to touch.” Even the other slaves, my kind, the “mixeds”, looked down on me because at least they had fur or fangs.

I had none.

Just soft flesh, black eyes, and hair as dark as soot. My skin was pale, not the noble kind of pale, but the “has-scurvy-and-hasn’t-seen-sunlight-in-a-decade” kind.

And yes, I was fat. The chubbiest, roundest, and the most “unshapely disgrace” in the entire werewolf kingdom.

Lucky me. That was because my asshole late father, who I sincerely pray was rotting in hell, thought a fat slave could bring a higher price in the market.

In the kitchen, Daisy and I were supposed to empty the trash cans and scrub them spotless.

Instead, we found a half-eaten meat bun and stole it like the starving thieves we were.

“It is so peaceful tonight,” I murmured, licking grease from my fingers.

Daisy grinned. “Everyone’s at the mating ceremony in the castle.” She lowered her voice. “You have been there once, right? What is it like?”

I snorted. “Like life is a lie. Like we were born to suffer while others live dreams we are not even allowed to imagine.”

Daisy’s face fell.

When I turned eighteen, I had to attend the mating ritual like everyone with werewolf blood. That was the night my wolf didn’t come. I realized I couldn’t shift, which meant I couldn’t conceive, couldn’t mate, and definitely didn’t belong with the wolves anymore. Even among the slaves, I was the lowest of the low.

Since then, my life had been one long reminder that I was a useless human mistake in a world of beasts.

In the werewolf kingdom, everything was hierarchical. At the top sat the Werewolf King and his royal bloodline, chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. Below him, Alphas were nobles. Then Betas ruled the courts. Gammas were the soldiers. Omegas were servants. And beneath them all were us slaves: mixed-bloods, half-breeds, and the unwanted. We were the dirt under their feet.

“Who is in the kitchen?” a soldier barked.

Daisy and I froze, stuffing the rest of the bun into our mouths.

“The wine has run out in the castle,” he said. “One of you take the new stock.”

Daisy’s hand trembled. “You go,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” I whispered back. “You can see the ritual, Daisy. The moon will be full and magical tonight. Who knows? You might find your mate.”

She scoffed. Her pointed elf ears twitched. “I’m an elf, remember? The wolves will smell it. They hate my kind the most.”

My bestie, ladies and gentlemen, instead of a wolf, she shifted into an elf. Still above me in the hierarchy list, though. I mean… slightly. But still above.

I nudged her. “Then we will go together.”

The castle was breathtaking as always. Chandeliers sparkled like stars, music floated through the air, and nobles gleamed in the softest silks and finest jewels. Tables overflowed with food that looked too perfect to eat. Not that it stopped my brain from plotting theft.

We slipped in silently with the wine crates.

Then trouble found me as usual.

A guard dog barked, knocking over a candle. The flame caught a drape. Within seconds, fire raced across the velvet.

Ah, Ben was definitely going to kill me today.

“Layla!” Daisy screamed, her face pale. Elves feared fire more than death itself.

“Go!” I yelled. “Run and pretend you weren’t here!”

“What about you?” she cried, her elf ears quivering.

“I’ll manage,” I said, lying through my teeth.

I added, “You can run fast. I can’t.”

Daisy looked at my round figure and winced. “…Fair point.”

“Rude,” I muttered, shoving her away. “Go!”

She vanished. I grabbed a pitcher and tried to douse the fire, but it was impossible alone. Smoke choked my lungs as I stumbled through the hall, searching for a way out. If I didn’t escape, I would be punished by palace warriors, not packhouse bullies. I heard harming royal property could earn near-capital punishment.

Running for my life, I spotted the grand ballroom glowing under the silver moon. The mating ritual had begun. Priests were chanting prayers. Wolves in human form stood in pairs as moonlight poured through the open dome. The chosen ones glowed silver, which symbolised the goddess’s blessing.

Meanwhile, I was hiding behind a buffet table, debating whether stealing a strawberry mousse counted as a sin.

Well… maybe a tiny sin.

I snatched one and stuffed it into my mouth. “Divine.”

Seriously, something was fundamentally wrong with me. How was I thinking about dessert while running for my life?

Anyway, back to survival. I crept toward a shadowed corner seat far from the crowd. Someone was already sitting there, but the darkness hid them. I didn’t care. I slumped into the seat, gasping for air after too much running for a girl my size.

“Even the goddess is a hypocrite,” I muttered, watching Ben glow with his new mate. “The cruel get love, and the good get pain.”

A deep and cold voice answered beside me.

“Aren’t you afraid of blasphemy? The light might strike you for speaking against the goddess.”

----

Author Note: Kyaaaa! The Male and Female lead are finally here. Are you excited to read more about them? Hmm? Tell me in comment section.