CHAPTER ONE

~FLORA~

THE COLD WIND blew harshly against the stone walls of the castle, carrying the salt of the sea into my chambers. I could feel fine grit settle on my lips as I gazed out the window. The thought of jumping down into the sea crossed my mind multiple times, but I did not have the courage to follow through.

My name is Princess Flora. A princess without a kingdom, without a mother. I had only a father who was the Alpha of the North England pack, and who was about pawning me against my wishes to the Wolves of Scotland as part of a peace treaty.

I could hear the cheering and celebratory voices coming through my thick wooden door. My fingers went white as I gripped the window sills tight.

"Step away from the window, lass." The thick Scottish accent was thicker than butter.

I yelped, startled, and spun around. My heart thudded in my chest as I regarded the man standing in the room. I had not heard him come in. Who knows how long he had stood there watching me?

"Are you the bride?" His voice was a rich baritone bass that bounced off the stone walls and washed over me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice failed me, so I nodded. I swallowed hard. "You are King Cameron?"

He replied with a grunt and took a step forward. I instinctively pressed closer to the window. I did not know this man, and for all I knew, he might be as bad as my father, or even worse.

"Were you thinking of jumping?" There was a slight hint of amusement in his voice that immediately made me angry.

"I would!" I snapped, swallowing my fear.

"Don't be fooled by the calm look of the water," he said, shrugging off his wool coat and draping it on the bed. "The tides change fast here. You'd be dashed against the rocks. Dead." He said it with a tone of finality that made me edge away from the window.

He took off the gold crown from his head and tossed it on the bedstand before shaking out his long sandy-brown hair. "Step away from the window, lass," he said again, sounding tired this time. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I had heard so many terrible things about this man and his people, about how they were savages that lived in the mountainous lands, how they drank blood from skulls, and worshipped the moon with pagan rituals. But they were also one of the biggest and strongest packs in the world.

"We're to be married," he said. His eyes were blue as ice as they looked at me from head to toe. "I wonder why your father wants you gone so badly..."

I bit my tongue to keep myself from uttering the answer - I was a werewolf princess without a wolf spirit, completely useless to the pack. My father had warned me very severely, not to mention it to Alpha Cameron until the whole deal was finalized. If Cameron knew that I was wolfless, he would -

"Apart from the fact that you're wolfless."

My eyes widened in shock. "I am not-" I began to lie, but he shut me up with the raise of a finger.

"There's no need to lie," he said, standing up. He walked up to me. I was too frozen to move, so I just stood there. "I have humans in my pack. I know what they smell like. And they are not useless to me." He tilted his head. "So be rest assured, lass. You aren't useless."

"You are not worried that I am wolfless? And I am going to be your Luna?" I asked softly. "Our children—"

"We're going to be married, but I don't love you." His words were not harsh, just true. And somehow, that made them worse. "And I fear I will never love you because I love another."

The words hit me like a slap. I felt my chest tighten, though I had no right to feel wounded. I didn't know this man. I didn't love him. But to be told so plainly that I would always be second. That I would be a placeholder, a title, a treaty; it burned.

"Then don't go through with this," I cried, my voice cracking. "Do not accept my father's offer. Leave me here. Go be with your true love. I won't tell anyone..."

"The one I love is dead." He clenched his jaw and looked out the window, his profile sharp against the light filtering through the window.

"Oh, I- I..." i stammered. "I am so sorry—"

"I don't need your pity, lass." He turned back to me, and for a moment, I saw something raw behind his eyes. Grief, maybe. Or exhaustion. "I will take you with me to my pack, and I will form an alliance with your alpha. You will have any castle you want in my territory. I will visit you once in a while. You will have my protection and my titles." He paused. "But I will never love you."

The words were like a hot knife, cutting and searing through my chest. I nodded, looking up to meet his eyes.

"You will have a good life," he continued, softer now. "A much better life than you would have if you remained at the mercy of your father and his mate..."

He was right. My father, Alpha Aldwin, and his mate, Luna Edwig, had made my life a living hell since my mother died seven years ago. The cold stares at dinner, the whispers when I passed, or the way they pretended I was furniture until they needed to trade me like cattle.

"So, what do you say, Lady Flora?" He extended a hand. "Will you choose me as your mate?"

I looked at his hardened but very handsome face, and even though I did not find any love there, I found something else: solidity. A promise that, at least, he was honest.

I nodded and placed my hand in his. "I accept."

"Come," he said. "Let us tell your father, i am sure he would be very pleased."

*****

ALPHA ALDWIN WAS seated at the far end of the hall, drinking a cup of wine happily. The hall was filled with men, elders of both packs, and warriors stationed at intervals. The Luna saw me coming first. Her eyes glazed with hate. I knew she wanted Alpha Cameron to get mated to her daughter, Edith, and not to me.

"Ah, yes," Alpha Aldwin said generously, standing up. "Is everything alright?"

Alpha Cameron nodded, still holding my hand. He turned around to look at his men. "This is my mate now," he announced, his voice carrying across the hall. "Your new Luna."

To my utmost surprise, all the men from Scotland sobered up instantly and went down on one knee. I did not know what to do or how to respond. I cleared my throat awkwardly, and they stood up.

"So it is settled then, Alpha Cameron?" My father said, barely hiding his relief. "The girl goes with you."

Alpha Cameron nodded. "We will begin our journey back to my pack at dusk," he said. His men began dispersing to prepare the horses. "Go and pack your things. We leave in before sundown."

I did not have much to pack, but I went upstairs to my room anyway. I sat on my bed and gazed at the far seas through the window.

I am no longer just Princess Flora. I am Luna Queen Flora of the Wolves of Scotland.

How was my life about to change? For the first time in five years, I let myself feel something other than despair. I feel hope.

I pulled out my mother's old comb from the drawer and ran my fingers over the worn teeth. She used to brush my hair with it when I was small, humming old songs about the sea. I tucked it into my satchel, along with a worn shawl she had knitted.

Then I reached deeper into the drawer, past the faded ribbons and broken hairpins, until my fingers brushed against something cold. It was a sma silver ring with a tiny moonstone that seemed to glow even in the dim light. My mother had worn it every day of her life. When she grew sick, she had called me to her bedside and pressed it into my palm, telling me to always keep it close.

I had been twelve years old. I didn't understand what she meant. I had tucked it away, too afraid to wear it, too afraid to lose the last piece of her.

But now, as I slipped it onto my finger, it felt... right. The metal warmed against my skin, and for a moment, I could have sworn I heard her voice. It was soft and distant, like wind through tall grass. I could barely make out what was said, "Not yet, little one. But soon."

I shook my head, convincing myself it was only memory playing tricks. I closed the drawer and stood, slinging my tiny satchel over my shoulder.

Mother, I thought, if you can see me now... I hope I'm making you proud. I hope this new life is better.

A tear started to slip down my cheek, but I quickly wiped it away as I heard footsteps at the door.

I turned, expecting Cameron or one of his men.

Edith, my step sister, stood in the doorway, her lip curled into a sneer. Behind her, Luna Edwig lurked in the shadows of the corridor. "So now you are a Luna," Edith snickered.

Before I could answer, she reached out and shoved me with all her strength. She was a werewolf and a very vicarious warrior, I could not match her.

I felt myself topple backward, my foot catching on the top step. A loud ringing sound erupted in my head as soon as my skull met the first wooden stair. I felt my body go limp as I tumbled. My shoulder, hip, and ribs slamed against the edges as I fell until I landed in a heap at the foot of the stairs. Pain screamed through every part of me. I couldn't move.

"Good job," I heard Luna Edwig's voice from above. My vision swam, but I could make out her feet descending the stairs.

"She isn't dead, mother," Edith said, peering down at me.

Edwig crouched beside me, her face swimming in and out of focus. "No. The girl is stronger than she looks. But not to worry..."

She broke a splintered piece of wood from the railing. It was a long, jagged stake.

"This will all seem like an accident," she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. "You were so excited to go to your new life as the Luna. You missed your footing. You fell down the stairs, hitting your head... and impaling yourself."

With the last word, she drove the stake into my side.

I tried to scream, but only a wet gasp escaped my lips. The pain was beyond anything I had ever known.

"It is so sad," she continued, stepping back to admire her work. "But eventually, we will move on. Edith will be the Luna of Scotland while you are thrown away like the rubbish you always were."

I fought to stay awake, but it was futile. My vision darkened at the edges. I could feel my blood pooling beneath me, warm and thick on the cold stone floor.

I could not keep my eyes open anymore. I saw my mother reaching out her hands, her face soft and kind, the way it was before she grew sick. I imagined myself reaching out to touch her.

"Mother..."

My hand twitched toward her ghost. The ring on my finger grew hot, burning, as if it had been placed in a fire. I felt a surge of something deep inside me, something that had been sleeping for nineteen years. There was a growl. Then the world went black.