One

My fingers were raw, red, and bleeding.

For three straight days, I had scrubbed the house floors on my hands and knees until my knees were black and blue. Every muscle in my back throbbed with a dull, constant ache that made it hard to breathe. But tonight, none of that physical pain mattered.

Tonight was the Mating Ceremony.

I stood near the back wall of the crowded hall, pressing my spine against the cold wooden boards, trying to make myself as small as possible. My dress was made of cheap, coarse brown wool. It scratched against my skin, pinched uncomfortably at my waist, and pulled tight across my broad shoulders. It was an old dress that my sister, Elodia, had thrown in the trash two years ago. I had dug it out, washed it, and patched it up myself with leftover thread from the kitchen rags.

Beside me, Elodia looked stunning. She wore a tailored green silk dress that hugged her small waist perfectly. Her golden hair fell in soft, shiny curls over her bare shoulders, and her skin smelled of expensive floral oils.

"Look at you," Matriarch Vespera whispered, turning her head to glare at me. Her voice was sharp enough to cut through solid stone. "You look like a giant brown sack. Did you really think wearing that garbage would hide how big you are?"

I lowered my head, staring at my chapped shoes. "It was the only clean dress I had, Mother."

"Don't call me Mother in public," Vespera snapped, her dark eyes flashing with pure disgust. "It’s embarrassing. You’re nineteen years old, Vaelira. You have no rank, no money, and no grace. The only reason I haven't thrown you out into the snow to starve is because you clean the grease off the kitchen stoves."

Elodia let out a soft, cruel giggle, touching her silver bracelets. She didn't even bother to look at me. "Leave her alone, Mother. She needs to save her energy. After all, she actually thinks Torren is going to pick her tonight."

I pressed my lips together into a thin line. I swallowed the thick lump rising in my throat and forced my eyes toward the front of the stage.

Don't listen to them, I told myself, clutching my hands into tight fists behind my back. They don't know the truth. They don't know what he said to me.

For a whole year, Alpha Torren had been meeting me in secret.

It started late at night in the dark, quiet kitchen. Torren would slip in after his late-night warrior training, tired and hungry. I would give him warm bread, fresh butter, and sweet honey. He would sit close to me at the wooden table, watching me work. He held my rough hands when my fingers were cracked from the ice-cold wash water. He squeezed my broad shoulders, leaned in close, and whispered sweet words into my ear.

“You’re special, Vae,” he had told me just last week, his golden wolf eyes warm and tender in the dim candlelight. “Don't listen to your mother or your sister. You’re the only girl in this pack who actually cares about me for who I am. When I take the Alpha throne at the ceremony, I’m going to take you out of that miserable kitchen forever.”

Those quiet, secret promises were the only reason I had survived the daily abuse in my own home. I loved him. I trusted him with my whole heart, holding on to his words like a lifeline in a dark sea.

A heavy brass bell rang out, echoing loudly across the rafters.

The three hundred pack members filling the hall instantly went silent.

High Elder Kaelen stepped onto the wooden stage, raising his hands. "People of the Blood-Fang Pack! The time has come! Step forward, Alpha Torren, and claim your Luna!"

The crowd erupted into roaring cheers. Drums began to thud rhythmically against the floorboards.

Alpha Torren stepped up to the center of the stage. He looked powerful, tall, and handsome in his black leather armor and thick fur cloak. His golden eyes swept over the cheering crowd with fierce pride.

My heart pounded wildly against my ribs, so hard I thought it would burst right out of my chest. Nervous hope swelled inside me. I took a tiny step forward out of the shadows, my breath catching in my dry throat.

Torren’s gaze swept across the room and landed directly on me.

For one long second, our eyes met. I gave him a small, hopeful, nervous smile.

Torren’s face did not soften. The warmth I knew from the dark kitchen vanished completely. Instead, his jaw hardened into a harsh line. His golden eyes flicked down my body—taking in my thick waist, my broad shoulders, and my cheap, patched brown wool dress. A look of cold, dark disgust flashed across his handsome face.

My smile froze instantly. An icy, sickening wave of panic settled heavy in my stomach.

Torren looked away, his expression turning cold as if looking at me made him sick. He extended his broad, manicured hand toward the front row.

"Elodia Vespera," Torren called out, his voice booming clearly across the hall. "Step forward and take your place as my Luna!"