One

ZETIAN’S POV

Everyone looked at me like I was some kind of monster—like something that should have never existed. Eyes followed me wherever I went. Some tried to hide their reactions, but most didn’t even bother. Sharp whispers cutting through the air like poisoned arrows.

“Have you seen her face? Goddess, what a horror.”

“Looks like melted wax… poor thing.”

“She must’ve done something unforgivable to deserve that.”

Cruel, thoughtless words. But I heard them. Every. Single. Time.

And maybe, just maybe, they were right about one thing—something did happen to me. Something I would never forget.

But I wasn’t always this way. I wasn’t born a monster. I was born Zetian Anderson—once the most envied she-wolf in the Silver Moon Pack, and once… the most beautiful. The kind of beauty that made people stare when I walked into a room.

My scars didn’t come from a rogue fight, or a pack war. They came from jealousy—burned into my skin by rage, lies, and acid.

I remember the night my whole life changed. The same night I discovered he was my mate. The same night I shifted for the first time before the entire pack.

The moon was full—massive and silver, glowing against the trees like a divine eye watching me. My heart hammered in my chest as I stood in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by pack members. I could feel their energy, their expectations pressing against my skin.

Alpha Nathan my father nodded at me, his voice deep and commanding.

“Go on, Zetian. Let your wolf out. Don’t fight her.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, the pull of the moon flooding my veins. Then it happened—bones cracked, muscles twisted, and heat surged through every nerve. I screamed, half in pain, half in awe, as my first shift took form.

The gasps came before I even realized what had happened.

And then… him.

Frank Radford-My childhood crush. Son of the Alpha to the Crescent pack.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, tall, broad-shouldered, his black hair catching the moonlight, eyes locked on me with something that made my breath hitch. He stepped forward slowly, his scent hitting me like lightning—cedarwood, rain, and something else... familiar. My wolf, Gemini howled inside me.

MATE.

Our eyes met, and time froze. Every voice around us faded. He walked toward me, heart pounding, his expression unreadable—half shock, half hunger.

He knelt before my wolf and whispered,

“Mine.”

That one word—so simple, yet so dangerous—sealed my fate.

For a while, life was beautiful.

Frank treated me like I was his whole world. The perfect mate. The kind that every she-wolf dreamed of finding. He was charming, confident, strong. His touch made me feel seen—made me forget the emptiness I’d grown up with.

Because truth is, I hadn’t always belonged here.

I had been swapped at birth—stolen from my family when I was born. My parents had no idea of all this, so they went home with an entirely different daughter–Cindy.

Years later, they found me—tattered, afraid, and half-wild, hiding among villagers who had taken me in. The reunion was... emotional. My mother wept for days. My father hugged me until I could barely breathe. For the first time, I thought I’d found my way home again.

At first, they treated me well. Not perfectly—Cindy still got more love, more praise—but I didn’t care. I was just happy to belong somewhere. I accepted every scrap of affection they gave me. Even when they compared me to Cindy, I smiled. I told myself it was enough.

Until the acid.

Until the night everything burned.

It was raining that day. I had just come back from the pack market when it happened. A figure in black approached me near my car—no scent, no warning.

Then fire.

Agonizing, blistering fire. My skin melted; my screams tore through the rain. I remember falling to the ground, clawing at my face, my body, as the world went dark.

When I woke up in the infirmary, the smell of disinfectant filled the air. My mother was standing in the corner, weeping silently. My father’s face was blank—like he was looking at a stranger.

And Frank … my mate… held my hand. Tears streaked his cheeks.

He whispered.

“I’m so sorry, Zetian. I didn’t know she’d do this.”

She?

He told me she was his ex. That she couldn’t accept our bond. That she was unstable, dangerous. He swore he had nothing to do with it.

I should have walked away. But I stayed. Because he held my hand in the hospital. Because I needed to believe someone could still love me. Because he whispered.

“I don’t care how you look. I love the woman you are.”

Lies!!!. Mountain of lies!!!.

Everything changed.

I had always wondered how he was going to put up with the world with an ugly ass bitch like me as his life partner. But his assurance kept giving me foolish hopes.

He suddenly stopped taking me out. Stopped looking me in the eyes. The man who once kissed every scar now flinched at my touch.

“Let’s just stay in tonight,” he’d say whenever I suggested dinner outside.

I told myself he was tired. I told myself he was protecting me from the stares. I told myself a thousand lies to cover his. Even when he stopped introducing me to his friends or holding my hand in public, I told myself he was just being private.

To the Anderson’s, Cindy became their light, their pride, their perfect daughter. I became their shadow—hidden behind closed doors, whispered about, pitied in silence.

They said no one could know they had found me. That it was better that way. That the world didn’t need to see “the scarred daughter of the Andersons.”

I became their secret. Their shame.

And Cindy? She became their trophy.

After everything I had lost, Frank was the one thing I believed I had left.

Then he proposed.

A simple proposal—no crowd, no cameras. Just us.

He knelt beside me in my living room, ring in hand.

“Let’s make this forever,” he said, and for a moment, I forgot the world and all its cruelty.

I said yes.

The wedding preparations began. People whispered, speculated.

“She must’ve paid him.”

“No man in his right mind would marry her willingly.”

“Maybe it’s pity. Poor girl.”

I tried not to listen. I tried to focus on the dress fittings, the flowers, the invites. I told myself this was my fairytale ending.

But the signs were always there. And I—Zetian Anderson chose to ignore them all for love.

I didn’t know then that as I watched the sunset a day before my wedding, that my dream was standing on shaky ground. That everything I believed about Frank , about love, about loyalty—was about to shatter.

I should have listened. To the whispers. To the doubts. To my guts.

But I didn’t.