A GAME OF FATE

 Lyra's POV

The road to Black Crest was colder than I'd imagined.

With every step I took, I felt its weight more — as if the shades from my pack clung to my boots, warning, Don't mess this up .

I hadn't slept in days. When my eyes would close and all I would see was the body of my father there on the ground in a puddle of blood, his hand reaching for mine even as he died.

Now I was approaching the territory of the monster who had ordered it done.

The infamous Alpha Aziel.

When the iron gates of the Black Crest pack rose into view, my heart almost stopped. The guards stood tall — black armor, pale eyes, and the scent of dominance clinging to the air. One of them, broader than a tree trunk, blocked my way.

“Who are you?” His growl rolled through my bones.

I forced my voice steady. “New servant. Kitchen department. I—I’m supposed to be interviewed today.”

He leaned in. For a moment, I was certain he heard my racing heart. Then he snorted, the sound sharp. "Name?"

"L–Lyra. Sir."

He looked at me too long, and I felt the heavy weight of all those lies pressing on my chest. But finally he stepped aside. "Stay out of trouble, pup."

My knees almost gave out as I walked through the gates.

The Black Crest pack training grounds were larger than I'd ever imagined — stone halls, banners fluttering black and silver, wolves training in formation. All of it screamed power and perfection, and I hated how awe began creeping up my throat.

This was the enemy.

This was the one who torched my home.

I couldn't afford awe.

A soft voice snapped me out of it.

"You're the new guy?"

I turned around. A girl with streaks of white in her hair smiled, a tray of towels balanced in her arms. She couldn't have been a year or so older than me. Her scent was delicate — soap and lilies.

"Yeah," I said, attempting a smile.

"I'm Spark," she said, flash of a smile. "Come on. I'll take  you to the servants' quarters before the head steward notices you wandering and eats your ears off.".

Her warmth shocked me. For a moment, I'd forgotten I was there at all. Nearly.

She walked me through cramped passageways, explaining everything at warp speed — where the laundry got washed, how to bow to superior ranks when they passed by, how the kitchen rank worked. I picked up half of it. My head was a fog of plots and terror.

"You okay?" Spark asked, nudging me. "You look a little green."

"I'm fine," I lied.

She stared at me like she didn't believe me but let it drop. "If you manage to make it through today, you'll be okay here. Alpha is finicky but just."

Fair.

The word made bile crawl up the back of my throat.

We turned and I wasn't paying attention too intent on the thumping of my own heart when I slammed into someone.

The punch knocked the wind out of my breath. My arms flashed out automatically to break my fall, fingers tracing over something hard — warm — alive.

"Watch where you're—" a harsh, authoritative voice began.

I braked.

Because the moment I lifted my gaze, all thinking flowed out of my head.

He wasn't what I'd imagined.

I'd imagined a monster — older, hard, scarred.

But the man in front of me was young. Tall, angular-facéd, steel-colored eyes molten with sunlight gleaming from them. Power radiating from him, yes, but it was clean, ordered, magnetic.

Alpha Aziel.

The air between us shifted. His eyes locked on mine, too intent, as if peeling back my skin and examining the secrets within.

Something within my chest tightened, throbbed, broke.

The sound was not real, but it felt real — like snapped links.

My legs buckled. My wolf trembled and agonized.

His voice now deeper, softer but in some way heavier. "What was your name again?"

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't talk.

Because all of me whispered one word that made everything changed—

Mate.