Masuk4 Years Later.
OLIVIA
When nightfall came, everyone gathered at the waterfall on the edge of the pack. It was said that this arcane lake hosted powers bestowed upon us by the moon goddess. Every ten years, under the blood moon, women in our pack would gather at the lake as an initiation, welcoming a twelve-hour blood Moon. This was the day many unmated girls yearned for. In the Lockheart manor, a ball would be held where the strongest of our kind gathered.
A few lucky ones would return home after this gathering, filled with joy from having spent an entire night with family and friends, only to find a red silk mask resting on their pillow.
If that were the case, they were the chosen Sparrows. A once-in-a-decade opportunity. Wearing the mask, they would be escorted to the ball, dressed in gowns that made even the richest blush with envy. Once there, they would be pursued by the strongest, wealthiest, and most eligible of our kind. For every leader needed his counterpart. But this event was for the males to prove their worth to the woman who could become their wife.
If he failed to do so, she would return home, and he would need to wait another ten years. That was the beauty of the ball; unmated males couldn’t take just any wife. He needed to be worthy of her companionship, devotion, and loyalty.
Female Alphas, however, didn’t have the same obligation. They had a smorgasbord of suitors waiting to fall to their knees and worship them. It was a sight to behold on the few occasions when I had.
” Earth to Oilvia,” Turning my head, I looked at Charity, who furrowed her brows. ”Are you ready?”
No.
”Yes.”
Hooking our arms, we wandered through the woods, my stomach knotting the closer we got to the forest line.
Once we stopped at the fork in the road, separating the streets lined with what was left of the houses, Charity skipped in place, digging her fingers into my shoulder when she eagerly blurted out.
”The second you’re in your room, you call me. Got it?”
I nodded.
For the love of the moon goddess and the scrapes on my knees from the nightly prayers these last four years, don’t let there be a mask on my pillow.
It felt like an eternity before I reached my porch. The boards squeaked when I stepped up. The door shrieked from the worn-down hinges. Everything looked the same but the air was different. Heavier.
One foot in front of the other, I kept telling myself.
My hand hovered in the air, cold metal brushing against my fingers when I gathered the courage to press the handle down, revealing my room. But most importantly, my bed.
The covers were a warm cream white, a thick comforter to protect me from the cold breezes blowing in through the cracks in the windows. This alone made it impossible to miss the red silk mask neatly folded on my pillow.
I jumped when my phone chimed in my pocket. A techno party was in full swing in my gut when I picked up. Loud shrieks boomed through the line; not much else would make her this happy. She’d been chosen, too.
”Did you get one?!”
I swallowed past the lump building in my stomach as I walked over to the bed. The mask slipped like liquid between my fingers, crimson against porcelain in a sinister beauty of color.
” I did,” I whispered.
The line fell silent for a moment. A heartbeat. Before it started up again. Without seeing her, I knew she was jumping around her room before the feathers in her mattress screamed as she sat.
”Why aren’t you screaming?” She asked. Her otherwise contagious glee fell void in my ears. ”Are you worried about what to wear?” That seemed more like her worry than mine.
”Not about the dress,” but about who I’ll meet.
The infamous firstborn son of the Lockhearts hadn’t been seen or heard from after his birth. Rumors were all that traveled between our borders. Ruthless. Heartless. A monster like his father. Worse even.
His promise that night four years ago rang like a trumpet in my ears: ”Mark my words, firecracker, I’ll do everything in my power to make you mine.”
The man whose family was responsible for my father’s death had invited me to the Ruby Ball. None of the Lockhearts had ever attended before… that I knew of.
Was I his reason for participating? If so, what was he hoping to get out of this? There’s a bigger chance that hell will freeze over before I ever set foot in his lair.
”What’s going on with you?” Charity didn’t know about the details of that night. Only that I hooked up with a stranger, that I lost my virginity, but the rest I kept to myself. I was not the only one who had suffered loss at the hands of that family. My entire pack had experience with their menacing ways.
”It’s nothing, my mom’s home, I’ll talk to you later.” We hung up. I hadn’t lied. My mother’s scent filled the hall outside my room instantly, the only scent that brought me calm.
Entering my room, her eyes immediately fell to the silk mask, shriveled in my fist.
”It’s not the worst thing. You could end up meeting someone lovely,” her euphonic voice had lulled me to sleep since I was little. It was always at her side that the world didn’t seem so cruel. Life didn’t seem so hard.
”Or someone whose heart is as cold as our winters,” I said.
My mother cupped my cheek, tilting my head back. Her collarbones were visible through the thin cotton shirt on her body. Around her neck hung a pendant, in which was a picture of my father and me.
”You have the power, Olivia. Not them. It is as much your choice what happens as it is theirs.” She folded my hair behind my ear. ”If your gut says no, you leave.”
It was his home. His game. His rules. Something told me he could bend and twist it in whatever ways he wanted. Or maybe I was spiraling, and this had nothing to do with him. Yes, good one, let’s hang on to that theory.
OLIVIAThe rain tapped against the window, lulling me awake with a gentle breeze pulling in through the cracked windows. I could hear it swish through the trees, making the branches dance and force the leaves to the ground.God, I love the sound of crunching leaves under my feet. I dragged my eyes over the naked walls, over to the dresser, when a knock on the door made me groan and bury my head in the pillow.“You awake in there, honey?”“Yeah, Mom, I’m awake,” I called back, my voice muffled but coherent enough to not warrant her walking in. Yet she did. But when I spotted the cup of steaming hot coffee in her hand, my annoyance slowly simmered, and I inhaled the aroma.“I can see that.” She grinned and took a seat on my bedside, handing me the cup. A comfort I was much used to caressed my skin and sent warmth throughout when Mom put a lock of my hair behind my ear as I pushed myself up on my arm. “You know I’m proud of you, right?”I could feel my brows furrowing, a crease deepenin
NATHANIELThat fucking harp had been at every Trial since before I was born. Playing the chosen participant into their doom when they walked out onto the open floor with guests planted in the oval rows to behold the spectacle of torture.Olivia walked out behind me, dragging her feet when she bent her neck to take in the socialite sitting above. Sitting in a throne-like seat, centered in the room, was my father, a smile of contempt resting on his lips. Poor girl had no idea what awaited, and I had no fucking idea how to stop it.I’d been beating my head against the wall for days, trying to make my family see clearly, but for every attempt I made to clear her name, something gnawed at me to stop. There was evidence that she was, in fact, a Grace, none that my family knew of other than minor defiance here and there. They didn’t know about her ability to fight back, to kneel upon order, or the strength I felt surging through her at the rebel camp. She might not have known about the stren
OLIVIAAlphas and leaders, those highest in societal rank, had gathered. Some with scowls; not every leader liked the Lockhearts. They knew the family was responsible for the deaths and misery of their people, but nobody declined an invitation from them unless they were suicidal.Dragging my eyes over the many heads around me, I finally spotted Colton, my previous Alpha from back home. His scowl was wider than anyone else’s; dismay was written across his face in bold letters.Unhooking my arm from Nathaniel, who had been pulled into conversation with an elderly couple, I made my way to Colton. The second he saw me, the wrinkle between his brows deepened.“Olivia,”We shook hands. How formidable of us.“How have you been?” I asked, desperate to ask about my mother and my friends, but there were ears everywhere around us, and I needed to play the social game before I got my answers.“It’s been better.” He spoke monotonously.I smiled, nodded, did everything I was supposed to.“The pack,
OLIVIAWe fucked. Again.I was pulling on my pants, replaying Nathaniel’s apology and wondering what the fuck he meant.“I’m sorry” About what?I hadn’t asked. In true Olivia fashion, I decided to speculate on my own before voicing my concern. Maybe he was sorry about sleeping with me again. Or maybe it had to do with the fact that he killed my friends. Dear god, I slept with the man responsible for the deaths of my friends. Even though he said he didn’t, shame slithered its way through me nonetheless, curdling my blood until I wished he’d kill me then and there.Nathaniel lifted my arms while I was busy wallowing in how pathetic I was, and the next thing I knew, I felt the soft cotton of his shirt slide down my arms.“I have to take care of a few things. I’ll come and get you tonight for the Emerald Ball,” he searched my eyes like there was more he wanted to say. When he was about to leave, I reached out, my hand hovering in the air. Nathaniel turned, his face contorted in something
OLIVIAWaking up in Nathaniel’s bedroom, our bedroom, was not on my bingo card for this year. Something told me the second I ran out into that clearing, bruising his men, I’d be leaving in a body bag.Yet here I was, mostly unscathed except for a throbbing headache from where my head slammed against something hard before I passed out, and a few different scrapes and bruises courtesy of his mercenaries.The sun was setting when I left the room to take a stroll in the garden. To my surprise, they’d left the door unlocked for the first time. Either they were starting to trust me— doubt it— or they no longer saw me as a threat.Heading down the paved road, crossing the cobblestone to wander further out among the flowers the gardener had taken precious care of, I thought about Isla’s key she used to unlock the door last night.She said that Nathaniel had given it to her. It didn’t feel like some mundane gesture. A key to not only your place, but your bedroom, was something you gave to a pe
NATHANIELSo I guess in the question of how fast everything could implode on itself in a myriad of fuckups, the answer was mere hours. The rustling of feet around me turned faint, nearly inaudible when I watched my firecracker unconscious on the ground. At my hands.Why couldn’t she just have stood down?Charity was kneeling on the ground. A quiet sob, leaning into hiccups when staring at the dead guy in front of her. What was his name again? It was something dumb.Everett was behind her, on his feet, staring at her head like it was already severed. He hadn’t gotten a kill tonight, which had never happened before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect, but judging by the agitation wrinkling his face into a raisin, I’d say it wasn’t good.“Why did you tell her not to do it?” I asked, crouching before her.I’d seen looks of hate before; it wasn’t new, nor did it affect me, but what I saw in Charity’s eyes was more. More than hate. More than loss. It was a void where even hate dared not enter.
OLIVIAThe girls straightened up, some more than others. My girls looked at each other, a deep-seated disgust piercing each glare.One step was all it took for my heart to stop.Don’t come here, go to the siren…please. A pair of blue eyes that would’ve pulled any man under the surface of the water
OLIVIAA loud gasp echoed over my shoulder. Widened eyes stared at me when I turned, and the older gentleman was looking around as though to catch someone he could snitch to as he clutched his damn pearls. What a child.Nathaniel shot his hand out, resting it on the man’s chest.”Just a joke,” he t
OLIVIABy the time a fifth man came up to me, my cheeks were hurting, my stomach was fluttering, full of butterflies that never died. It seemed like the night would never end, and to be honest, I hoped that it wouldn’t.For the first time in my life, I wasn’t anxious or stressed. The talk was stimu
OLIVIAIn the middle of rubble, under a bridge that barely stood, with cracks in the foundation, dust rising around the entrance, which added to the ambiance, a few of my friends had founded a club. That might’ve been a stretch— it was a shack with boarded-up windows and a craggy speaker blasting s







