Chapter 2

Sylvia’s POV

My heart hammered against my ribs, but I sent a silent thanks to the moon that I'd latched the door.

"I'm preparing for the mating ceremony now!" I shouted back, forcing my voice steady.

I could still hear him muttering dark curses under his breath, but soon enough, his heavy footsteps retreated. I didn't dare waste another second.

"Quickly," I whispered urgently to Grace, "we're out of time." The moment she slipped out, my eyes finally fell upon my mother.

Even dead, my mother was still beautiful. I carefully putting her in her favorite dress and brushing out the long golden strands of her hair. She looked so peaceful, and it tugged at my heart. I bit my lower lip to suppress the sobs that racked me. My mother deserved so much more than what I could give her. She deserved more than what this pack gave her.

The door crashed open before I finished straightening her dress. Two wolves, warriors of the Alpha, pushed in, tracking mud all over the floor.

My throat tightened as they shoved me aside as if I were nothing, their hands reaching out to grab the bundle that was my mother.

“Stop! Don’t touch her like that!” My voice cracked as I threw myself towards my mother’s body.

One shoved me back without even looking at me. My shoulder slammed the table, pan shooting down my arm.

By the time I managed to get back on my feet, they were already dragging her out of the room as if she were nothing but a bag of trash.

“She’s my mother!” I cried, scrambling up again, ignoring the pain. I ran towards them again, but I collided with a hard chest.

Alpha Marshall himself filled the doorway, eyes narrowing like my grief was an inconvenience.

He didn’t hesitate. His hand struck across my face, the sharp crack echoing off the walls. I reeled, gasping, one palm covering my cheek to soothe the sting.

“You’ll behave,” he said coldly. “The King's visit has been accelerated. No time for dramatics from someone weaker than omega.”

My mother was carried away, her shroud dragging in the dirt. My throat burned. I wanted to claw the ground to stop them, to scream until the sky split, but all I could do was follow. I felt broken and small while wolves I’d grown up with averted their eyes.

“Sylvia?” I heard Grace’s panicked voice from nearby as she rushed towards me. “What’s happening? What are they doing?”

“They’re taking her away,” I managed to croak, tears brimming in my eyes. “They are taking my mother.”

I let out a choked sob as she wrapped her arms around me; together we walked, trying to keep up with their hurried steps.

The pyre burned quickly, smoke curling into the sky. No prayer, no songs, just the Alpha’s impatience urging it along. There was no priestess there to bless her body into the afterlife, no proper burial to ensure a safe journey to our Goddess.

There was barely anyone there to say goodbye. Only a few, and their faces were expressionless as if my mother hadn’t healed them so many times.

My eyes found an unfamiliar pair on the other side of the fire. He wore a hood, so I couldn’t see his face, but his eyes were fixed on me as if I held the answers to everything.

Before I’d even processed the flames consuming her, or the eyes that remained fixed on me, a hand sized my arm.

“It’s time to leave,” one of the warriors said.

“What?” My voice wavered.

“The mate confirmation ceremony. The Alpha will settle this problem once and for all today.”

I looked at Grace, who returned my gaze with a worried one herself. The grip around my arm tightened, pulling me along with the men sent to retrieve me.

I staggered after them, hurrying my steps to keep up. We made our way to the pack square where most had already gathered in a half circle, eager for spectacle. The moonstone sat gleaming on its pedestal, whole and beautiful.

Alpha Marshall stood in the center, along with the priestess. She was gorgeous, wearing the same colors of the moonstone; her long dark hair was braided down her back, and her green eyes poured into me with grief as I approached. A flicker of solace warmed my chest. At least someone beyond just Grace and me still remembered my mother.

The guards had finally released their hold on my wrist.

I hadn’t noticed Grace staggering after us, but I was partly relieved to see her face amongst the crowd. She looked worried with her brows pinched together and her bottom lip stuck between her teeth.

“Give me your hand,” the priestess ordered softly.

I lifted my hand, palm facing her. She wrapped her delicate fingers around my wrist, her touch gentle, a bright contrast from the rough touches of the guards only moments ago. She brought my hand towards the stone and placed it on the smooth surface.

It was like touching ice, lifeless and unmoved.

Everyone was so quiet that I could hear a pin drop; not even the sound of breathing could be heard.

Alpha Marshall stared daggers at me, his eyes fixed on my hand, which was touching the moonstone. The priestess spoke some soft words in her native tongue; words that I couldn’t understand. Her eyes were closed, and with each word spoken, I felt a soft breeze.

My heart hammered so hard against my chest, I feared those around me could hear it. The priestess finally opened her eyes, and she looked at me with unreadable complexity in her eyes. When she released me, she took a step back.

The moonstone remained unmoved… not even a slight glow. The entire pack knew exactly what it meant—I was unmated.

I could hear the soft laughter from some and the surprised gasps from others.

Alpha Marshall smirked and stepped closer to me, his shadows cast around my body. I released my hold on the moonstone, suddenly feeling more at ease. I had no mate in this pack, which meant I didn’t have to worry about a man taking over my life.

The only thing I had to worry about now was the Alpha.

“It appears you have no mate,” Alpha Marshal said, a glint of something I couldn’t decipher in his eyes. “Which means you now have two choices, girl. You become a rogue, or you become the pack whore.”

His words were like a blow to my stomach. I felt bile rise into my throat as I stared up at him.

He couldn’t be serious, but the devilish look in his eyes proved that he was very serious. I took a step away from him, my hands clenching into fists at my sides.

Whispers rippled like snakes in the crowd; either way, I would be giving up my life. Rogues starved in the wild or blended under the knives of exiles. Becoming the pack whore would mean that anyone could use me however they see fit… including Alpha Marshall.

I lifted my chin, despite the tears burning behind my eyes.

I wanted to tell him that I would become a rogue; there was no way I would let him touch me in that way. I would rather risk the claws of the wild than let him break me here for his amusement.

But before I could speak, I felt the tension shift in the area as surprised gasps echoed through the air. Alpha Marshall turned his attention past me, his eyes widening in both shock and horror. His face was pale, and I turned to see what he was staring at.

The aura was suddenly so thick that it nearly brought me to my knees. A man stood, a dark hood covering his face, the same eyes that stared at me on the other side of the fire penetrated the air.

He stopped walking only a few inches from me, and he reached up to remove the hood from his head.

His handsome, razor-sharp features were breathtaking enough—but it was the sheer force of his presence, the raw Alpha power radiating from him that truly stole the air from my lungs. This was the aura belonging only to an Alpha King.

"By what authority do you dare pass judgment on her fate?"