Mated In Disguise

It was happening again - only this time, she didn't know what to expect. 

The scent of lilacs drifted through the open window, soft and familiar—her mother’s favorite flower—but the sweetness did nothing to soothe the dread curling in Rhea’s gut. She sat alone in the great hall of the Bloodmoon estate, perched on the edge of an ornate velvet chair, hands clenched tightly in her lap. Her fingers trembled despite her effort to still them.

The hall was quiet, save for the occasional pop of firewood crackling in the hearth. Tall windows framed the setting sun, casting long golden shadows across the stone floor. Everything looked the same as it always had—the portraits of her ancestors, the banners bearing their crimson wolf crest—but nothing felt the same. Not after the summons she’d received that morning.

She heard the heavy footsteps before the doors opened. Her father entered with the slow, deliberate stride of someone who knew the weight his presence carried. Alpha Garrick Stormclaw—her father, her leader—wore his formal black coat, every brass button polished, his hair swept back from a sharp, unforgiving face.

“Rhea,” he said without preamble.

She stood, spine straight. “Father.”

He studied her for a moment, then motioned to the seat across from her. “Sit.”

She obeyed. The air between them felt thick—tense and expectant.

“I’ve called you here to share news,” he said, lowering himself into the seat opposite hers. “An alliance has been secured between our pack and the Ironfangs.”

Rhea’s brow furrowed. “Ironfang? Since when have we even spoken to them?”

Garrick’s gaze sharpened. “Since opportunity presented itself.”

Rhea waited, knowing better than to interrupt.

“This alliance will ensure our borders are protected from rogue incursions,” Garrick continued. “It will strengthen our standing among the Northern Territories. A move long overdue.”

She still didn’t understand what this had to do with her. “And what role do I play in it?”

His eyes met hers, unflinching. “You are to marry Branor, the Alpha of the Ironfangs. The contract has already been signed.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Rhea blinked. “I—what?”

“You will become his Luna in three weeks’ time,” Garrick said evenly, as though discussing the weather. “Preparations will begin immediately.”

Her chest tightened. “You’re... marrying me off?”

“I am ensuring your future. And the future of this pack.”

“You’re giving me away,” she said, voice sharp with disbelief. “Like a dowry. Like an object.”

His jaw tensed. “Do not make this more dramatic than it needs to be.”

“Branor?” she repeated, rising to her feet. “He’s twice my age. He’s known for punishing his own warriors by breaking their bones—he rules through fear!”

“He rules through strength,” Garrick corrected. “As a proper Alpha should.”

Her pulse pounded in her ears. “He’s a tyrant.”

“He is your future husband.”

“I won’t do it.”

The words came out before she could stop them. Her father’s expression darkened instantly.

“You will,” he said, rising now as well, voice low and dangerous. “You are my daughter. You will obey.”

“I’m not a pawn in your political game.”

“You are a Stormclaw. That means responsibility. Honor. Sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” she snapped. “You mean obedience. Silence. Becoming a prisoner in another pack for the sake of your pride.”

Garrick took a step toward her. “You will not speak to me in that tone.”

Rhea refused to look away. “You didn’t even ask me. You made this decision and expected me to accept it.”

“Because it is not your place to question it,” he said coldly. “This is how our world works. Alphas lead. Others follow.”

“I’m not just ‘others.’ I’m your daughter.”

“That is precisely why you will do as I say.”

Her mouth opened, but no sound came. Anger and disbelief warred within her. She had always known her father to be stern, but this—this was cruelty wrapped in duty.

“I thought you wanted more for me than what Mother had,” she whispered.

Garrick’s face flickered, just for a moment, at the mention of her mother.

“She fulfilled her role,” he said at last. “And you will fulfill yours.”

“No,” Rhea said, voice trembling with restrained rage. “She wasted away in this estate. A Luna who never got to speak. Who never got to choose. You can dress it up in all the talk of duty and sacrifice, but it’s just control.”

Garrick’s hand shot out, gripping her arm. “You forget yourself.”

She yanked free, tears threatening to fall.

“I’m not property,” she said. “And I won’t be traded like one.”

His stare was merciless. “Then you leave me no choice. Until your wedding, you are confined to the estate. No more training. No more outdoor excursions. You will prepare to become a Luna. You will learn obedience.”

“I already know obedience,” Rhea said. “I’ve lived under your rules my entire life. But I won’t walk into a cage and call it duty.”

Garrick didn’t answer. He turned and walked toward the doors, his boots echoing against the stone.

As he paused in the doorway, he spoke without looking back. “You’ll understand one day, Rhea. When you have a pack of your own. When you learn what it takes to lead.”

Then he was gone.

The doors shut behind him with a quiet finality that made her knees buckle.

Rhea sank back into the chair, her face pale, hands trembling. The fire cracked behind her, but she felt only cold.

Married. To Branor. Three weeks.

She hadn’t even been given a choice.

Tradition demanded her silence. Her submission.

But something in her, something wild and caged, refused to be broken.

Not yet.

Not ever.