Claimed by the Biker Alpha’s

Madeleine’s POV

 

The cold seeped into my bones, a familiar ache. The Grand Mating Ceremony. It was today. I pushed aside the thin blanket and swung my legs onto the packed dirt floor of my small room, the chill instantly biting at my bare feet. No time for self-pity. There never was.

 

The servants quarters was silent, everyone still asleep. I moved through the shadows, a ghost in the dim light, and started the fire in the kitchen. Coals glowed, wood crackled, and soon the smell of burning oak began to chase away the damp. Before long, the first demands started.

 

“Madeleine! The water buckets are empty!” Pat, perpetually annoyed, poked her head into the kitchen. Her voice was sharp even in the quiet of the morning.

 

“On it, Pat,” I murmured, not looking at her. I stacked a pile of kindling by the hearth, my movements precise.

 

“Don’t ‘on it’ me, girl. Move faster. The Alpha will be up soon, and he likes his tea hot the moment he stirs.” She sniffed, her gaze lingering on my threadbare tunic.

 

“Perhaps if you looked less like a stray, you’d inspire more urgency.”

 

I kept my face neutral , a skill honed over a lifetime. Words were weapons I couldn't afford to wield. 

 

“Yes, Pat.” I grabbed the large wooden buckets and headed out. The well was a good distance, and by the time I returned, my arms ached, and my shoulders burned.

 

“And the Alpha’s quarters needs sweeping, Madeleine!” This time it was the round-faced Beta. 

 

He stood by the entrance, arms crossed, watching me strain with the water. “Don’t dilly-dally. It needs to be spotless for the ceremony.”

 

“Right away,” I replied, my breath coming in short gasps. I emptied the buckets and immediately grabbed the broom, starting on the great hall. Dust motes danced in the sparse sunlight filtering through the high windows. Every surface had to gleam. Every corner free of debris. As I worked, other omegas began to wake and descend, their eyes sharp with disdain. Whispers followed me like shadows.

 

“Still here, then, Madeleine?” Lyra, whose bed was directly across from mine, sneered as she passed. 

 

“Thought perhaps you’d run off into the woods last night. Given your luck with ceremonies.”

 

I bit back the retort that wanted to spring to my lips. It was useless. She wanted a reaction, and I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. I just swept harder.

 

Later, on my way back from the herb garden, a sudden splash of color caught my eye. Kade, one of the newer warriors, was leaning against a tree, his face pale. His arm hung at an awkward angle, blood staining his grey tunic sleeve a dark, ugly red.

 

“Kade? What happened?” My voice was barely a whisper, but he flinched, startled.

 

He quickly tried to hide the wound, pulling his sleeve up. 

 

“Nothing, Madeleine. Just a training mishap.” His voice was rough with pain.

 

But I’d already seen it. A deep, jagged cut, already weeping sluggishly. “That’s not ‘nothing.’ It’s deep. You need to clean it.”

 

“I’ll get the healers later,” he mumbled, trying to wave me off.

 

My mother’s face flashed in my mind. Her hands, calloused but gentle, crushing leaves. 

“Always treat a wound, Madeleine, no matter whose it is. Neglect breeds infection, and infection breeds death.”

 

“Later might be too late,” I said, moving closer despite his obvious discomfort. I pulled a small pouch from my pocket, filled with dried comfrey and yarrow. 

 

“Let me.”

 

He hesitated, his gaze wary. “You… you know about healing?”

 

I didn’t answer, just dipped a corner of my tunic in the water skin I carried and gently cleaned away the blood around the cut. The skin was inflamed. Then I took the comfrey, chewed it slightly to make a poultice, and pressed it firmly over the gash. Kade hissed through clenched teeth.

 

“It will sting,” I warned him.

 

“But it will help close the wound and stop the bleeding.” I bound it tightly with a strip of linen from my pouch.

 

He stared at his bandaged arm, then at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “I… thank you, Madeleine.”

 

Before he could say more, Pat’s voice, sharp as a whip, cut through the air. “Kade! What are you doing with her? Don’t let that disgraceful Omega near you! She’ll probably just curse you.” She marched over, her face a mask of disapproval. 

 

“Come, the Alpha needs you for patrol assignments.”

 

Kade’s face flushed. He mumbled an apology and quickly moved away, not meeting my eyes. The moment of connection, brief as it was, dissolved into the familiar shame.

 

I finished my duties, my heart a dull ache in my chest. The sun climbed higher, warming the air, and soon the pack house was bustling. Everyone was preparing, dressing in their finest, eager for the ceremony. I headed back to my small room, knowing my presence wasn’t strictly required for anything further until after the feast.

 

Old Mara, her face a roadmap of wrinkles, hobbled past my doorway. She stopped, leaning on her gnarled stick. 

 

“You’ll be there, won’t you, child?” Her voice was raspy, but kind. She was one of the few who still spoke to me without scorn.

 

I leaned against the doorframe, a small, humorless laugh escaping me. “Mara, you know the Moon Goddess better than anyone. She’s never looked my way before. Why would today be any different?”

 

Her eyes, though faded, held a surprising depth. “Every unmated wolf must be present, Madeleine. It is the law. And the Goddess works in mysterious ways.” She sighed, a deep, rattling sound. 

 

“Just be there.” She patted my arm and shuffled off.

 

Be there. Of course, I would be there. Like every year, I would stand at the back, invisible, and watch the lucky ones find their mates.

 

I turned back into my tiny room, the only place where I could truly breathe. My gaze fell upon the small leather cord around my neck. I pulled it out from beneath my tunic. A single, intricately carved wooden bird, dark and smooth from years of touching. My mother’s. The only thing I had left of her.

 

I traced the tiny wings with my thumb, remembering her voice, soft but firm, on the last night we were together. Her eyes, wide and fearful, as she hugged me tight.

 

“If the Moon Goddess ever gives you a mate, Madeleine…” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, urgent, almost frantic. “…don’t trust anyone. Not even him. Promise me.”

 

I hadn’t understood then. I certainly didn’t understand now. How could you not trust your mate? The one person the Goddess herself chose for you, the other half of your soul? But the words were etched into my memory, a strange, dark whisper in the back of my mind.

 

I took a deep breath, tucked the bird back beneath my shirt, and smoothed my tunic. It was clean, at least. Unadorned, but clean. I braided my long, dark hair, tying it back securely. It was time.

 

The ceremonial clearing was already full. Every rank stood in its designated place. The Alpha, Beta, and Gamma lines at the front, followed by the warriors, then the hunters, the healers, and finally, at the very back, the omegas. I slipped into the last row, trying to make myself even smaller, wishing the earth would swallow me whole. I kept my head down, my eyes fixed on the dirt beneath my worn boots, praying no one would notice I was even there.

 

The air thrummed with anticipation. The scent of pine and fresh earth mixed with the nervous energy of hundreds of wolves. The Moon Priest, an ancient figure with a voice like rustling leaves, stepped forward. Silence fell, heavy and absolute.

 

He raised his arms, his eyes closed, and began the ancient chants, invoking the Moon Goddess, calling upon her blessing for the unions to come. The chant resonated through the clearing, a deep, primal hum that seemed to vibrate in my very bones.

 

And then it happened.

 

A blinding, incandescent heat erupted in my chest, a sudden, searing pain that stole my breath. It wasn’t a human pain, but something deeper, more profound, an ancient power awakening inside me. It spread like wildfire, a burning river of awareness, tugging at something deep within my soul. My knees buckled. I clutched my chest, gasping, confusion and terror washing over me. This wasn’t… this wasn’t right. This wasn’t mere ceremony jitters.

 

Slowly, agonizingly, as if compelled by an unseen force, my head lifted. My eyes, wide with shock, scanned the mass of wolves, moving past the warriors, the betas, past everyone.

 

And found him.

 

Alpha Damon Voss. He stood at the very front, a formidable presence even from this distance, his dark eyes like shards of obsidian. He was already looking at me, his gaze locked onto mine, a fierce, possessive intensity stirring in their depths.

 

The world tilted. The chants faded.

 

The mate bond had awakened.