Chapter 2

Azaria's POV:

I had no plan.

Only a single thread of desperation braided with determination. That was all I could offer the gods when I dared to submit my name for Alpha Malachi’s call.

Alpha Atlas Malachi of the Eclipse Howl Pack—his name was heavy as thunder, and no less dangerous.

They said his voice could quiet a battlefield, his glare could make a grown Alpha kneel. He ruled the fractured werewolf territories with an iron grip and an iced heart.

And now… he was in search of a Luna.

To him, this was nothing but politics. Hence the reason he resummoned unmated females from every suitable Pack, as if we were tokens to be inspected and traded.

But to the rest of us… it was legend.

The chance to stand beside the ruler of the greatest Pack was a dream stitched from moonlight and madness. A dream that never once belonged to the likes of me.

Yet I submitted my name anyway. Not out of ambition—no, that flame had long been extinguished. I submitted it because I needed a way out.

I owe that small act of rebellion to Elias—the guard who used to sneak me dried berries when no one was looking, who dared whisper, “You should run.” when Levi’s rage became too intense.

Elias who, with shaking hands and guilt-stricken eyes, slipped my name into the ceremonial ledger on the night of the blood moon. The look he gave me as he sealed the scroll and sent it away was not of hope, it was that of goodbye.

And indeed, it was.

Because when my name was drawn… Levi found out.

I don’t know how.

But his eyes had gone red with fury when the announcement echoed through the hall. “Azaria Vale.” The emissary had said. “Has been selected to represent Grimfang Pack in Alpha Malachi’s Luna Contest.”

There was silence for a short while, and what broke it was the sickening crack of Elias’s neck.

After that, I was dragged from the kitchen by my hair, thrown into the stone cell beneath the east wing—Levi’s private dungeon, where the air reeked of blood and corpses.

“You ungrateful wretch.” Levi had spat, pacing before the bars like a beast denied its kill. “I gave you shelter. I fed you. I kept you. And this is how you repay me?”

I said nothing. Hell, I didn’t dare look him in the eye.

“You think Alpha Malachi will save you?” He snapped. “You’re nothing. Less than nothing. No wolf, no name, no power. They’ll throw you back to me the moment they learn what you are.”

He wasn’t wrong.

I was nothing.

Sold as a child when my mother could no longer afford the cost of feeding me, traded to Levi like a sack of grain.

I was stripped of my name, my birthright, and my wolf.

Ah… my wolf.

Sera.

I hadn’t spoken her name aloud in years. But I remembered her. The first time she emerged, I cried from the sheer joy of it.

She was fast and fierce, with silver fur and soft eyes. But Levi… he feared her. He feared what I might become.

So he severed her from me.

The ritual was forbidden—black magic that even the Council would hang a wolf for. But Levi performed it in secret, binding my soul and cutting me off from Sera with a dagger etched.

“You will never shift again,” He’d said, voice filled with madness. “Now, you are mine forever.”

And so I had been.

The next morning, I was roused by the clang of metal. The guards entered without speaking.

My eyes widened, as I thought that perhaps they meant to kill me next. But no. Outside, a procession waited.

Obsidian-cloaked soldiers, bearing the sigil of Alpha Malachi.

Levi’s jaw clenched so hard I feared his teeth might snap. “She belongs to me.” He snarled.

The captain’s reply was calm. “She has been summoned.”

“I forbid it.”

“You do not have the authority to forbid Alpha Atlas.”

And just like that, I was shoved into a carriage bound for the capital.

When I arrived, I was stunned by the beauty. The capital had moon-polished towers and its buildings had glass windows shaped like wolves' mid-howl.

The Packhouse itself was carved into the bones of a mountain, veined with silver light and guarded by men with cold eyes.

Glancing around, I realized that I truly didn’t belong there—and soon everyone knew it.

The other 11 contestants were daughters of Alphas, nobles and wealthy merchants.

And I was given a room with three of them who never spoke to me, when they did, it was only to sneer.

“She doesn't have a wolf.” Whispered Lira.

“Or a surname.” Added Genevieve.

Joan sighed. “I heard that she's a servant girl smuggled in by mistake.”

I said nothing because I had more important things to do. Like memorizing the schedule, paying attention to the lessons on politics, etiquette, and history.

But one day, they decided they’d had enough of my presence.

Today was the sixth day of our stay in the Obsidian Keep. We had just returned from another grueling etiquette session, where Lady Vaelora taught us how to glide like mist and sip like royalty.

I was too slow in curtsying, again. And like always, my name was marked down.

Near the frozen river that bordered the far garden behind the Keep, I sat by myself, practicing the perfect bow with a stick for a cane.

I was so focused on my task that I failed to notice their presence until I heard laughter behind me.

“Well, look what the river dragged in.” Genevieve’s voice slithered.

I turned slowly, to see my three roommates standing in a triangle, with cloaks that fluttered like raven wings.

“She’s doing curtsies.” Lira mocked. “How precious. Maybe if she bows deep enough, Alpha Malachi will pity her and give her a bone.”

My cheeks flamed, but I didn’t rise. “I don’t want trouble.”

Joan smirked. “You are trouble, mutt.”

“I’m not here for you.” I whispered, tightening my fingers around the stick. “Leave me be.”

“Not here for us?” Genevieve stepped closer, boots crunching the frost. “You shouldn't be here at all. We all earned our place. You—what are you? A kitchen scrap?”

My voice trembled, but I looked her in the eye. “I may not have a wolf. But I’ve bled more than any of you to stand where I do.”

Joan scoffed. “How noble. Did you hear that, girls? The servant wants to be a Luna.”

“She has no name, yet she dreams so big.” Lira spat, chuckling.

“Truly a bug dreamer.” Genevieve said sweetly.

Lira tilted her head. “Perhaps a bath would help.”

Genevieve’s smile widened. “Yes… perhaps it would.”

Suddenly, Genevieve reached out and shoved. then Lira and Joan followed. My foot caught on a root, and I slipped.

Before I could process what had happened, I was already inside the water. I clawed upward, but there was no light, no air, no sky—only water and darkness and—

Red eyes?

I squinted my eyes to see a handsome and muscular man with red eyes seated on a throne of bones beneath the river, watching me like a curious god.

“Time is short, Azaria Mylah Sarai.” He said.

“Who are you, and how do you know my name?” I asked, genuinely confused and scared.

“I brought you back to life once, would you like me to do it again?”

“What do you mean… brought me back?”

Instead of providing an answer, he held up a scroll.

“You have only ten seconds to sign this or you die.”

“What is this?”

“Payment. I will restore your life, and I n return, you will work for me.”

“What work?”

“Seven…”

He began to count and slowly my body burned and my vision began to blur again.

Fuck! I was dying

“Six…”

I had no choice, no future, no wolf, and no name. But I had a second chance to make things right and give myself a better life.

So I swam closer, bit my thumb hard until it tore open and blood poured out. Then I pressed my finger on the bottom of the contract.

He grinned, as soon as I pulled back.

“Congratulations, Azaria Mylah Sarai.” He purred. “You belong to me now.”