CHAPTER 3: THE EVE OF DESTINY

The day before the Mate Revelation Ball, the entire packhouse lost its mind.

Decorators swarmed every hallway hanging silver streamers and white roses. The ballroom on the second floor buzzed with activity. Crystal chandeliers were being polished to blinding brightness. A massive stage was being built for the orchestra. Everything had to be perfect.

And I was stuck in the middle of it all.

"Aurora! These tablecloths have wrinkles!" one of the event coordinators screamed at me, her face red with stress. "Iron them again. All fifty of them!"

I grabbed the pile of white linen and headed to the laundry room, my arms aching. I'd been working since four this morning without a break. Without water. Without anything except shouted orders and impossible demands.

The Mate Revelation Ball was the biggest event of the year. Wolves traveled from packs across the entire region to attend. It was where newly-of-age wolves discovered their fated mates at midnight when the Moon Goddess revealed the sacred bonds.

For most wolves, it was magical. Romantic. The best night of their lives.

For me, it was just another shift serving people who looked through me like I was invisible. Like I was nothing.

I was halfway through the tablecloths, my hands raw from the hot iron, when Aunt Clara found me.

"There you are, you lazy girl." She grabbed my arm and yanked me toward the door hard enough to make me stumble. "The seamstress needs you. Now."

"But I'm not done with..."

"I don't care. Move!"

She dragged me upstairs to one of the guest rooms, her nails digging into my skin. Inside, a middle-aged woman with a measuring tape around her neck stood next to a clothing rack, looking impatient.

"This is the Omega?" the seamstress asked, looking me up and down with obvious disapproval. Like I was something distasteful she had to deal with.

"Yes," Aunt Clara said. "Make her presentable. She'll be serving tomorrow night and I won't have her embarrassing this family in rags."

The seamstress sighed like I was a huge inconvenience. "Arms up."

For the next twenty minutes, she measured every part of me, tutting and making notes like I was livestock being evaluated. Finally, she pulled a simple black dress from the rack.

"This will have to do," she muttered. "Plain. Appropriate for an Omega. Nothing fancy."

I stared at the dress. It was nicer than anything I'd ever worn. Long sleeves, knee length, basic but clean. New.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"Don't thank me. Thank the Alpha for requiring all servants to look uniform tomorrow." She shoved the dress at me like it burned her hands. "Don't ruin it."

After she left, I held the dress against myself and looked in the mirror. For just a second, I let myself imagine what it would be like to attend the ball as a guest. To wear a beautiful gown instead of a servant's uniform. To dance instead of serve. To stand on the ballroom floor instead of against the wall.

To find my mate.

"Pathetic."

I spun around. Vivian stood in the doorway, dressed in a stunning red dress that probably cost more than a car. More than I'd make in ten years. She looked like fire and fury and everything I could never be.

"That's what you're wearing?" She laughed, the sound sharp as breaking glass. "Oh honey, even in a potato sack you'd still be the ugliest thing at the ball."

My face burned hot. Shame crawling up my throat.

She walked into the room, circling me like a predator studying wounded prey. "I'm trying on my gown for tomorrow. Want to see?"

Before I could answer, she gestured to herself. "Custom made. Ten thousand dollars. Damon's going to die when he sees me in it."

Each word was designed to hurt. And they did.

"Of course, you'll be too busy carrying champagne trays to notice how magical the night is." She picked up the black servant dress and wrinkled her nose like it smelled bad. "This suits you, actually. Simple. Boring. Forgettable. Just like you."

She tossed it on the floor.

"Pick it up," she ordered.

I bent down and grabbed the dress, my hands shaking with humiliation and rage I couldn't express.

"You know what the saddest part is?" Vivian leaned against the dresser, examining her perfect nails. "Tomorrow night at midnight, when all the of-age wolves find their mates, you'll be standing there alone. Because even the Moon Goddess knows you're not worth loving."

Something cracked inside my chest. Sharp. Painful. Like a rib breaking.

"But hey," she continued cheerfully, like she was discussing the weather. "At least you'll have a front-row seat to watch Damon and I celebrate. Maybe if you're lucky, we'll let you serve at our engagement party next month."

She swept out of the room, leaving me standing there with tears burning in my eyes, threatening to fall.

I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't give her that satisfaction.

But the hollow ache in my chest grew bigger. Darker. Heavier with every breath.

That evening, old Esme found me in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner. Most of the pack had already eaten and left. The room was finally quiet except for the sound of running water and my own breathing.

"Sit down, child," she said gently, patting the stool next to her. "You've been running around all day."

I collapsed onto the stool, exhausted down to my bones.

She poured me a cup of tea and pushed it across the counter. "Drink. You need your strength for tomorrow."

"It's just serving," I said quietly. "Same as always."

"Is it?" Her eyes studied me carefully, seeing things I tried to hide. "You turn twenty-two tomorrow at midnight."

My hands wrapped around the warm cup, seeking comfort in the heat. "I know."

"Aurora, I need to tell you something." She glanced around to make sure we were alone, then lowered her voice to barely a whisper. "Your parents... they were special. Powerful."

I'd heard this before. "They died when I was three. I barely remember them."

"They didn't just die, child. They were murdered."

The cup almost slipped from my hands. Hot tea sloshed over the rim. "What?"

Esme's voice dropped even lower, urgent now. "Your father was Alpha Harrison Sinclair. Your mother was Luna Celeste. They ruled with wisdom and strength. But there were those who feared their power. Feared what they represented."

"I don't understand. Uncle Marcus said they died fighting rogues."

"Marcus lies." Her expression turned hard, angry in a way I'd never seen. "I shouldn't tell you this. It's dangerous. But you deserve to know the truth before tomorrow night."

My heart pounded so hard I could hear it in my ears. "What truth?"

"Your mother had a gift. She could sense things. See things before they happened. The night before she died, she came to me terrified. She said something was coming. Something dark. Something that wanted to destroy everything." Esme's eyes filled with tears. "She made me promise to watch over you if anything happened to her."

Chills ran down my spine. My skin prickled with goosebumps.

"The next morning, your parents were found dead. Poisoned. Both of them." Esme's voice broke. "And you... you were just a baby, hidden in a secret room behind the bookshelf. Marcus claimed you as his ward. Said he'd raise you out of the goodness of his heart."

"But you don't believe that."

"No." She squeezed my hand hard enough to hurt. "I think Marcus knows exactly what you are. And I think he's been keeping you weak on purpose. Keeping your wolf suppressed. Keeping you broken."

"What am I?" I whispered. Fear and hope mixing in my chest.

Before she could answer, footsteps echoed down the hallway. Heavy. Deliberate. Coming closer.

Esme pulled back quickly, her expression shuttering. "We can't talk here. Just... be careful tomorrow night, Aurora. When midnight comes, when your wolf finally wakes, everything will change."

"My wolf?" Hope flared in my chest, bright and desperate. "You think I'll shift?"

"I know you will." She stood up as another servant entered the kitchen, cutting off our conversation. "Your wolf isn't broken, child. She's been waiting. And tomorrow night, she'll finally be strong enough to break through whatever's been holding her back."

She walked away, leaving me sitting there with a million questions racing through my mind and no answers. Just fear and hope and confusion.

Could it be true? Could I really shift tomorrow?

I wanted to believe it so badly it hurt. So badly it felt like my chest might crack open.

That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind refusing to quiet. Tomorrow was the ball. Tomorrow I'd turn twenty-two. Tomorrow my whole life might change.

Or it might stay exactly the same. Broken. Invisible. Nothing.

I closed my eyes and tried to quiet my racing thoughts.

That's when I felt it.

Stronger than before. Much stronger. That presence deep inside me. Like something alive, pacing back and forth in a cage, waiting to be freed. Wanting out. Needing out.

And for the first time in my life, I heard her clearly.

My wolf.

Tomorrow, she said, her voice ancient and powerful and somehow familiar. Tomorrow we rise. Tomorrow we will find him.

"Find who?" I whispered into the darkness, my voice trembling.

Our mate.

My breath caught in my throat. "I have a mate?"

We have two.

That was impossible. Wolves only had one fated mate. One bond. One destiny. Everyone knew that.

Nothing about us is ordinary, Aurora. Nothing about tomorrow will be either. Sleep now. You'll need your strength for what's coming.

I should have been terrified. Confused. Questioning my sanity for hearing voices.

But instead, I felt something I hadn't felt in years.

Hope.

Real, genuine, burning hope.

I drifted off to sleep with my hand pressed against my chest, feeling my wolf's presence curl around my heart like a protective shield. Like a promise.

Tomorrow night at midnight, everything would change.

I just had no idea how much.

And I definitely didn't know that the man I'd spent my whole life invisible to was about to become my greatest joy and my worst nightmare.

All in the same breath.