The Lycan King's Captive

CHAPTER ONE:

Elena's POV

I learned early that silence keeps you safe.

When you are the mistake in a family of perfection, when your existence is a source of shame rather than pride, you learn to make yourself small. You learn to move through rooms like a ghost. To speak only when spoken to. To disappear into corners and hope no one remembers you are there.

My name is Elena Ashford.

And I am the daughter my parents wish they never had.

The morning starts like every other morning in the Crescent Moon Pack estate. I wake before dawn, dress quickly in the plain gray dress that marks me as different from my sister. Then I slip out of my small bedroom before anyone else stirs. 

The house is massive. Built for a family of importance, with high ceilings and expensive furniture and portraits of powerful ancestors lining the walls.

None of those portraits include me.

I make my way down the servant stairs, the ones I am expected to use rather than the main staircase,and enter the kitchen where the omega servants are already preparing breakfast. They greet me with sympathy in their eyes.

These women who understand what it means to be considered lesser.

"Good morning, Elena," says Mary, the head cook, an older omega with kind eyes and work-worn hands. "You're up early again."

"I wanted to help with breakfast," I say quietly, reaching for an apron.

She does not argue. She knows I prefer to stay busy. To be useful. To have some purpose even if it is not the purpose my parents wanted for me.

I fall into the familiar rhythm of chopping vegetables and stirring pots, listening to the comfortable chatter of the kitchen staff. Here, among the omegas, I am not the family disappointment. 

I am just Elena.

Another omega doing her work.

But the peace never lasts long.

"Elena!" 

My mother's sharp voice cuts through the kitchen warmth like a blade made of ice. 

"What are you doing down here?"

I turn to see Luna Margaret Ashford standing in the doorway, her face twisted with disgust. She is beautiful, my mother. The same silver-blonde hair I inherited but eyes of cold blue rather than my soft gray. She carries herself like royalty.

Which she believes herself to be.

"I was helping with breakfast, Mother," I say, keeping my voice respectful and small.

"You are not a servant," she snaps, though her tone suggests she wishes I were. "Go to your room and make yourself presentable. Your father wants to speak with you."

The kitchen falls silent. 

The servants exchange worried glances. 

When Alpha Richard wants to speak with me, it is never good news.

I remove my apron with shaking hands and follow my mother through the estate. She walks quickly, her back straight, never looking to see if I am keeping up. We pass through the grand entrance hall where a massive portrait hangs.

My father, strong and imposing. 

My mother beside him looking elegant. 

My twin sister Elise standing between them. 

The artist painted it when we were fifteen, and I am not in it. I was sick that day, or so my parents claimed. 

The truth is they did not want me included.

Elise and I are twins, born only minutes apart, but we might as well be from different worlds. She was born first, emerging strong and crying with the powerful lungs of an alpha. I came second, small and quiet.

And the pack doctor confirmed within hours what my parents feared.

I was an omega.

In a world where strength is everything, I was the weakest thing they could imagine, an abomination. 

My mother leads me to my father's study and knocks once before entering. 

"She is here," she announces.

As if I am a package that was being delivered.

Alpha Richard Ashford sits behind his massive desk, his presence filling the room. He is a large man, built for battle, with graying black hair and eyes that never seem to smile. He looks at me the way one might look at a stain on expensive carpet.

With frustration.

And disgust.

"Sit down, Elena," he orders.

I sit in the chair across from his desk, folding my hands in my lap, making myself as small as possible. My mother remains standing by the door, her arms crossed.

My father studies me for a long moment, and I cannot read his expression. 

Finally, he speaks.

"Do you know why you are here?"

"No, Father," I say quietly.

He leans back in his chair. "For nineteen years, I have provided for you despite the shame you brought to this family. I have fed you, clothed you, given you a roof over your head when most alphas would have sent you away to live among strangers."

I say nothing. 

What can I say? 

He is right. In many packs, omega children born to alpha families are sent to omega communes to be raised by others. Hidden away like dirty secrets. My parents kept me here.

But they made sure I knew it was a burden.

"I made a terrible mistake," my father continues. "Twenty years ago, when our pack was under attack from the northern territories, I borrowed money from the Lycan King's father to save our people. It was meant to be repaid within ten years."

Something cold settles in my stomach. 

I have heard whispers about this debt. Rumors that my father owes more than he can pay. Now the rumors were being confirmed from the horse's mouth himself.

"The debt has grown," my father says. "With interest, it is now impossible to repay with money or land. The new Lycan King, Kieran Blackthorn, has demanded another form of payment."

My mother speaks from the doorway. "He has offered to clear the debt in exchange for an alliance. He wants an Ashford daughter as his bride."

My heart begins to pound. 

They cannot mean

"Elise was the obvious choice," my father says. "She is beautiful, strong, an alpha worthy of being a Lycan Queen. But your sister has fallen ill with a mysterious sickness. She is too weak to travel. Perhaps dying even. The healers do not know what is wrong with her."

I think of Elise. My twin sister who has barely spoken to me in years. Who looks at me with a mixture of pity and disgust. I saw her yesterday and she seemed fine, training in the yard with her strong warrior friends. 

How could she be dying?

"The Lycan King has never met Elise," my mother says. "He has only heard descriptions of her appearance and her strength."

The cold in my stomach spreads to my limbs. 

No. 

They cannot be suggesting

"You and your sister are identical in appearance," my father says, and I hear the decision in his voice. "The Lycan King will not know the difference."

"No," I whisper, the word escaping before I can stop it.

My father's eyes flash with anger. "You dare refuse?"

"Father, please," I say, my voice shaking. "You cannot send me to him. I am an omega. If he discovers the deception, he will kill me. The Lycan King is known for his cruelty. He does not forgive lies."

"Then you had better make sure he does not discover the truth," my mother says coldly.

I turn to her, desperate. "Mother, please. There must be another way. I could"

"You could what?" she snaps. "What value do you have to offer? What can you possibly do that would clear this debt?"

Tears burn behind my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. 

"I do not want to die," I whisper.

"Then you should have been born stronger," my father says. "This is your chance to finally be useful to this family. You will go to Bloodstone Fortress disguised as your sister. You will play the role of an alpha bride until Elise recovers from her illness. Once she is well, we will find a way to make the exchange."

I stare at him, understanding the truth he is not saying. 

They have no intention of making an exchange. 

Once I am gone, I will be forgotten. If I am discovered and killed, it will be no loss to them. Maybe a plus to them.

"What if Elise does not recover?" I ask quietly.

My parents exchange a look. 

"She will recover," my father says firmly. "She must."

"And if the Lycan King wants to…" 

I cannot finish the sentence, but they know what I mean. If he wants to claim his bride. To consummate the marriage. 

What then?

"You will do whatever is necessary to maintain the deception," my mother says. "Surely even you understand how to please a man."

Her words were meant to hit home, and they did.

For a moment, I couldn't believe that my own mother would say such a thing. 

I have never been with a man. I have barely been allowed to speak to males my own age. My parents kept me isolated, afraid that I would shame them by showing my omega nature.

"I cannot do this," I say, and this time my voice breaks. "Please do not make me do this."

My father stands, his patience long gone. "You have two choices, Elena. You can go to Bloodstone Fortress and save this pack, or you can refuse and watch every person here die when the Lycan King's army destroys us for failing to pay our debt. Thousands of people, Elena. Men, women, children. Their blood will be on your hands."

It is manipulation, I know it is, but the weight of it crushes me anyway. 

How can I refuse if it means so many will die? 

How can I be so selfish as to choose my own life over thousands of others?

"What about Elise?" I ask, grasping for any alternative. "Can you not tell the Lycan King she is ill? Ask for more time?"

"He has already waited twenty years," my mother says. "He will not wait longer. It is now or we face war."

I look between my parents. These people who should love me but who have only ever seen me as a burden. 

I realize they are not asking me to do this. 

They are telling me. 

I have no choice. 

I never had a choice.

"When?" I whisper.

"Tomorrow," my father says. "You leave at dawn."

Tomorrow. 

One day to prepare for a fate I never wanted.

To say goodbye to a life that was never truly mine.