The Ultimatum

My father delivers my death sentence over breakfast.

I sit at the dining table the next morning, stomach already in knots. Marcus called me down with a tone that left no room for argument. Helena and Ivy are both here too. Ivy sits across from me with a perfect little smile, like she is watching her favorite show. Helena pours tea with fake calmness. The mark on my neck feels like it is on fire under their stares.

Marcus does not waste time. He sets his fork down hard and looks straight at me. "Pack law is clear. A marked female must be married to her marker or find another willing male within one moon cycle. If not, she is exiled."

The words hit me like a punch. Exile. I know what that means. No pack bond. Rogues hunting lone wolves. Hostile territories where outsiders get torn apart. It is basically a death sentence.

"You would exile your own daughter?" My voice cracks. I grip the edge of the table to keep my hands from shaking.

Marcus leans forward, eyes hard. "You exiled yourself when you spread your legs for a rogue."

The shame burns through me. I look down at my plate, but the food turns my stomach. Helena reaches over and pats my hand with that sickening sweet sympathy. "Maybe if you apologize to the pack publicly. Beg for forgiveness. Show some humility."

I pull my hand away. Ivy laughs softly under her breath. Then she leans in, voice dripping with sweetness that cuts deeper than any insult. "Derek would never have marked you anyway. You were always temporary."

That one hurts worse than everything else. I feel it twist in my chest. Temporary. Five years of my life reduced to that. I bite the inside of my cheek hard to stop the tears. Marcus does not defend me. He just watches with that same disappointed look.

"Thirty days," he says finally. "You have thirty days to find a husband who will accept you despite that mark. Or you leave this pack forever."

The room spins a little. Thirty days. That is all I get.

I sit there trying to process it. Who would marry me now? Everyone saw what happened. The mark on my neck might as well be a brand saying damaged goods. I swallow hard. "What about finding the stranger? The one who actually marked me?"

Marcus snorts. "A rogue who abandoned you? He is worthless. We need a real solution, not some fantasy."

Helena jumps in, voice smooth. "You may need to lower your standards. Perhaps a widower. Or an older wolf. Someone from Gamma rank who cannot afford to be picky."

Ivy smiles wider. "I am sure someone will pity you enough to take you."

Rage builds in my chest until I feel like I might explode. But I know I am trapped. There is no fighting this. Not with the whole pack watching and my father’s word being law. I nod slowly, hating every second of it. "Fine. I will try."

The next few days blur into a nightmare of humiliation. Marcus makes sure I approach every unmated male of decent rank. I feel like I am being paraded around like livestock at the market.

The first one is a young warrior I knew from school. He is polite when I find him near the training grounds. But his eyes keep flicking to my neck. "I am sorry, Lyra. I cannot take a used mate. It would not be fair to my future pups."

The rejection stings. I walk away with my head high, but inside I am crumbling.

The second is an older Beta. He does not even try to be kind. We met outside his workshop. He looks me up and down and laughs. "You can warm my bed if you want. But wife? No. I need someone respectable."

I clench my fists and leave before I say something that will make it worse. The pack watches my desperation everywhere I go. Some give me pitying looks. Most seem to enjoy watching the fall of Marcus’s daughter. Whispers follow me like shadows.

The third rejection cuts differently. A decent guy, quiet and kind, actually seems sympathetic when I talk to him near the healer’s den. But his mother shows up and drags him away. "Bad for family reputation," she snaps loud enough for everyone to hear.

No chips away at what is left of me. And Derek and Ivy are everywhere. They walk through the pack lands holding hands, smiling like the perfect couple. Their happiness gets rubbed in my face constantly. I try to avoid them, but it is impossible.

One afternoon Derek catches me alone near the edge of the woods. He looks guilty, shifting on his feet. "Lyra, can we talk?"

I stop but do not turn fully toward him. "What is there to say?"

"I never wanted to hurt you like this. The bond with Ivy just... hit me."

I finally faced him. The anger feels good for once. "Go to hell, Derek."

He flinches. It is the only real satisfaction I get in days.

Two weeks pass with no prospects. I am back in the healer’s workspace, trying to focus on mixing herbs. My hands shake as I measure. The older healer, Iris, watches me for a while before she speaks.

"You look exhausted, child." Her voice is gentle. She sets down her own work and comes closer. "This pack is poison for you right now. Maybe you should leave voluntarily. Try to find another pack on your own."

I laugh, but it sounds broken. "They would kill me or reject me. I am marked by an unknown wolf. No pack bond. No value to anyone."

Iris studies the mark on my neck for a long moment. "That is no ordinary mark. Your marker must have been powerful. That is an Alpha’s mark."

Her words hit me hard. I touch the mark without thinking. An Alpha? That explains the strength of it, the way it still burns sometimes. But if he was an Alpha, why did he abandon me? Why mark me and then disappear without a word? More questions than answers swirl in my head, making everything feel heavier.

I leave the healer’s den later that day with another rejection weighing on me. The walk home feels longer than usual. The pack is buzzing with new gossip. Different from the usual whispers about me. I catch fragments as I pass groups of people. "Northern Territory." "Alpha Blackridge." "Seeking a bride."

I did not pay much attention at first. My mind is too full of my own problems. Then Mara suddenly grabs my arm from the side, pulling me behind a building. Her eyes are wide with something like hope.

"Lyra, this might be your answer."

She talks fast, glancing around to make sure no one is listening too closely. "The most powerful and feared Alpha on the continent is seeking a contract bride. Political alliance. They call him the Beast of the North. Ruthless. Brutal. But he is offering protection, status, and resources to the right pack."

I stare at her. A small spark of something dangerous flickers in my chest. Not hope exactly. But a dark possibility opens up when every other door has slammed shut.

That night, my father came to my room with papers in his hand and something like hope in his eyes. He'd arranged a meeting with the Beast of the North. I was going to be sold to a monster.