The Butcher's Bride

‎13 Years Ago

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‎They say history is written by the victors, but my story began with the defeated.

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‎Decades ago, my grandfather, a ruthless Alpha obsessed with blood purity waged war on the Silver Moon Pack. He slaughtered them all, leaving only one survivor: a young girl named Masia. She was brought back not as a guest, but as a slave.

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‎That slave would become my mother.

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‎It was the oldest cliché in our world: the Alpha Heir falling for the servant. My father, Loine, didn't care about bloodlines or politics; he only cared about her. But his father would not let his legacy be "stained" by the blood of a defeated enemy. He banished my mother to the wild as a Rogue and forced my father to marry a woman he didn't love, Angel, a Beta’s daughter who would later on bring upon herself her own demise.

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‎Years passed. My grandfather died. And the first thing my father did was hunt for the woman he never stopped loving.

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‎He found her. They reconciled. And though my mother tried to leave when she learned he now had a wife and three children, fate had other plans. She was pregnant with me.

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‎For five years, we lived in a secret cabin deep in the woods, a hidden world where my father wasn't an Alpha, but just a man who loved us. It was a stolen happiness. A fragile bubble.

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‎And bubbles always burst.

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‎"Celeste, get under the floorboards. Now."

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‎My mother’s voice wasn't loud, but the terror in it made my blood run cold. I was only five years old, sitting on the rug playing with my wooden wolf figurines, but I knew the look in her eyes. It was the look of a hunted animal.

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‎"Mama?"

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‎"Do as I say!" She grabbed my arm, her grip bruising, and shoved me toward the loose panel in the corner of the room. Outside, the leaves crunched, not the sound of the wind, but the heavy, synchronized steps of wolves.

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‎Assassins.

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‎"Papa is coming back soon," I whispered, trembling as I curled into the dark, dusty space beneath the floor.

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‎"Papa isn't here, little star. You must be quiet. No matter what you hear, you do not make a sound. Promise me." Her eyes, usually a warm brown, flashed with a strange, violet light I had never seen before. She kissed my forehead, a desperate, final seal. "I love you."

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‎She replaced the board, plunging me into darkness.

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‎Seconds later, the front door shattered.

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‎I pressed my hands over my ears, but I couldn't block out the sounds. The growls. The breaking furniture. The sneering voice of a man I didn't know.

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‎"The Luna sends her regards, mongrel."

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‎Then, the screams began.

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‎I watched through a crack in the wood, tears streaming down my face. I saw my mother fighting not like a slave, but like a warrior. Silver light, like moonlight made liquid, exploded from her hands, throwing two of the wolves back against the wall. It was the power she had hidden all her life, the heritage of the pack my grandfather destroyed.

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‎But there were too many of them. 

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‎When silence finally fell, the door burst open again. But this time, the scent that flooded the room wasn't blood, it was rain and pine. My father.

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‎I heard the most heart-wrenching sound of my life: the wail of an Alpha who has lost his mate.

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‎"Masia! No, no, no..."

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‎I pushed the board up, coughing in the dust. My father was on his knees, cradling her broken body, his tears dripping onto her face. He looked up when he saw me, his eyes burning with a rage that would soon burn down the world of the woman who ordered this.

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‎He didn't look like my papa in that moment. He looked like a monster.

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‎He scooped me up, shielding my eyes from my mother’s body, and walked out of the cabin that had been our heaven, stepping into the hell that would become my life.

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‎I didn't know it then, but the war between our families hadn't ended with my grandfather. It had just begun.