"Althea." I still. I shiver. He says my name like it's sacred, like it's an oath he's swearing. He tilts his head to the side, eyes roaming over my face. "Tell me," he murmurs, "what do you want me to call you?" My eyes slowly meet his, confused by his question. "What do you want to call me?" "I want to call you mine.” *** Althea Gray is a bullied omega who has fought for survival at every turn of her entire life. When she discovers her boyfriend of three years has been cheating on her, heartbreak is the least of her problems. She's been chosen for the deadly Mate Games, a brutal competition where females from all parts of the kingdom, fight for the chance to win the favor and heart of the ruthless Alpha prince. Prince Asher Valebrook is as cold as his ice-blue stare, and he has no interest in love. Althea knows better than to want him, but a reckless one-night stand might seal her fate. Though she and Asher claim to hate each other, the line between love and hate is dangerously thin. With betrayals lurking in every shadow and survival far from guaranteed, Althea must play the game wisely. But in a palace built on blood and lies, winning Asher's heart might be the deadliest challenge of all.
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“Noooo!” I wake up gasping for air, my skin damp with sweat. The nightmare, the same dream, yet again, clings to my mind like a fog I can’t shake off. It’s become more frequent ever since I turned twenty one a month ago. I sit up, pushing my damp hair off my forehead. My heart pounds in my chest as I try to catch my breath. The scene replays in my mind, vivid and strange. I’m standing between two wolves, one white, one black. They’re enormous, their eyes locked in a silent challenge. Then, just like always, they lunge at each other, a blur of fur and fangs. And just like every other time, I wake up before I can make sense of it. “ALTHEA!” My stepmother’s voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and demanding. Right on cue. I groan, dragging myself out of bed. My legs feel heavy, like I’ve been running in my sleep. My room is small but cozy, though it does little to shield me from the chaos of my home. “Coming!” I shout back, though I know it won’t stop her from yelling again. When I finally stumble downstairs, I find my stepmother already waiting, her arms crossed and her expression pinched. “You’re finally up,” she snaps. “The sun’s halfway through the sky, and you’re still lazying about. Do you think this house runs itself?” I glance out the window. The sun is barely peeking over the horizon. “Sorry,” I mumble, though I’m not sure what I’m apologizing for. She thrusts a crumpled piece of paper into my hands. It’s a list—a long one. Laundry, cleaning, errands in the market. Same as always. “I want everything done by evening,” she says. “No excuses, because I know how lazy you can be.” “Yes, ma’am,” I reply, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. It’s easier this way. Upstairs, my stepsister, Lila, is likely still curled up in her bed or fussing over her hair. She doesn’t have to worry about chores. She doesn’t have to worry about anything, really. She’s the family’s pride, the one everyone admires. Charismatic, ambitious, and beautiful. She’s basically everything I’m not. And she knows it. By the time I finish the first few tasks, my arms ache, and my stomach growls. But there’s no time to rest. If I don’t finish the list, there’ll be hell to pay. I’m used to this. Being the one who gets blamed, who’s expected to do everything. My father tries to be fair, but he’s always busy with work, and it’s easier for him to turn a blind eye. I don’t blame him, not really. Still, it stings. After mum died, Father was like a walking corpse. I guess that’s what losing your mate does to you. So when he fell in love with Madeline, I was happy for him. She was good to me, she had a daughter my age, which meant I was finally getting the sister I’d always longed for. But everything changed after the wedding. She changed. She hated my guts. Lila bullied me for not being as pretty as her. I was all alone. The day drags on, and I finally finish the last of my chores as the sun begins to set. The orange glow lights up the sky, and for a moment, I just stand there, letting the cool breeze brush against my skin. I decide to leave the house before Madeline finds something else for me to do. I decide to go to the grove. Most times I only go there for our weekly revolutionary meetings on Thursdays. Today is Monday, and I feel a strong longing to go there. Maybe it’s the need for comfort, or maybe I just want to see Aaron. Aaron my boyfriend. He’s been my secret, my escape from this life. Even though he’s an omega, he’s strong and outspoken. He works as a guard at the palace, and also heads a secret group of revolutionaries along with his mother. Even though he gets decent pay, he’s not afraid to speak against the royals, to challenge the injustice of the way things are. Being with him feels like rebellion, like freedom. I make my way to the grove, careful to stay out of sight. Aaron has always been careful about our meetings, but tonight, I want to surprise him. No matter how many times I see Aaron, I always feel like this—nervous and excited all at once. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted, and I can hardly wait to see him again. As I walk down the road, it’s impossible to miss the posters plastered on every surface of the street. An announcement of the Mate Games happening soon. As I read the words on the posters,I can’t help but roll my eyes. The Mate Game is one of the most barbaric tradition we follow here. The very process is not only dangerous, but life threatening. The royal family here, rose to their status today because of their strength and resilience. By being stronger and smarter than everyone else. So they make sure that anyone who continues their line, earns that position. But I honestly think it’s pure bull. A female from a few selected families get to participate. The selection process is pretty random, but till date, my family has never gotten picked, and I don’t think we ever will. Thoughts of the Mate games flee my head when I finally reach the clearing, i make my way to Aaron’s house, and on entering, I freeze in my tracks. something immediately feels wrong. The first thing I notice is the lamp lying on its side, its shade crooked. Then there’s the rug, bunched up like someone tripped over it. The decorative pillows from the couch scattered across the floor. My heart skips a beat as I take it all in. This isn’t normal. Aaron might not have much, but he’s meticulous, always keeping things tidy. Did something happen? “Aaron?” I call out, my voice shaky. There’s no answer. I step further inside, my eyes scanning the room. That’s when I see them—his black pants, the same ones I’ve helped him mend numerous times, crumpled on the floor in front of his bedroom door. Next to them is a purple, frilly dress. My chest tightens, and I feel like I can’t breathe. I try to tell myself it’s not what it looks like. There has to be an explanation. Maybe he spilled something on his clothes and changed. Maybe the dress belongs to a friend. But then I hear it. Muffled noises coming from behind the closed bedroom door. My stomach churns as I take a shaky step forward. My hands tremble as I reach for the doorknob. I don’t want to open it. I don’t want to see. I twist the knob and push the door open. Time seems to freeze. There he is. Aaron. In bed. With someone else. But it’s not just anyone. As they pull apart and turn to look at me, I recognize her immediately. The blonde hair, the sharp features, the smug expression that never quite leaves her face. Lila. My stepsister. For a moment, I can’t move. I can’t think. All I can do is stare at them, my worst nightmare unfolding right in front of me. Aaron’s eyes widen, and he scrambles to say something, but I don’t hear him. My ears are ringing, and my chest feels like it’s about to cave in. Lila smirks, pulling the sheets up around her. “Oh, hi, Althea. Didn’t expect to see you here.” Her voice is like a dagger, sharp and cruel. “Althea, wait—” he starts, but I shake my head. “No,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. Then, louder, “No.” “Althea.” Lila suddenly says, her voice taking on a serious note. I watch as Aaron glances at her, the plea on his tongue dying like it was never there. When he looks back at me, his expression has morphed into something else. Gone is the remorse. Gone is the sad, caught in the act look in his eye. All it’s replaced by is a coldness as he watches me break apart inside. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this, Althea.” Hearing my name coming from his lips feels like i’ve been batterred by his fists. “But it is what it is.” He speaks again, “I’ve been thinking, and maybe you and I can’t work out.” My chest splits in half. Right down the middle. Right through the bond we shared. I whispered out words that sounded foreign to my own ears, “W-we’re mates…” He sighs deeply. Then glances at Lila again. It’s one look, but something about it makes me feel like my fate has been sealed. I don’t know how I know, but when Aaron turns to look at me again, I hear the words before he’s even truly spoken them. “You and I can’t be together anymore.” His says, his eyes turning hard with his resolve. “I can’t be your husband, because I’ve chosen someone else to be by my side.” I shake my head slowly, brokenly. Taking a step back. “I’ve chosen Lila.” Crack. “She’s the one i want.” Crack. “I’ll marry her, and she’ll become my wife one day.” My heart splinters into nothing, till i’m wondering how i’m still able to stand. “Aaron…” I breathe. “And to make things clear, Althea.” He begins again, “So you don’t get the wrong idea. So you don’t think this is some mistake on my part. Because i’ve thought this through, and i realized shes the one i’ve always wanted, Althea. Not you. It was never you.” Three years… and it was never me? “It’s over between us.” He says, “And for extra effect… i’ll tell you this. I Aaron Blackwood, reject you Althea Gray daughter of Stark Gray.ALTHEA The forest collapses behind me. A soundless scream—wind tearing through leaves, light bursting from the roots up like veins filled with fire. I’m running, bleeding, choking on my breath, the seed clutched so tightly in my hand I think it might crack. And just when the world feels like it’s folding in on itself— Everything stops. I hit solid ground hard, knees scraping against cold stone. My vision spins. I blink up at a sky that’s no longer covered by ancient branches. The Mirror Woods are gone. I’m back at the trial grounds. But I’m not alone. Coughs echo to my left. A sob to my right. I turn my head slowly, limbs trembling. Elise is doubled over, hands pressed to her face, shaking like a leaf. Her blond braid is half undone, dirt and blood streaking her once-pristine robes. Marcy staggers to her feet, her jaw clenched. Her clothes are shredded down one arm, and blood darkens the fabric. But she’s alive. Breathing. Caroline lies facedown a few feet away. Her fingers t
ALTHEAThe path the raven showed me twists and narrows, winding deeper than I ever imagined the Mirror Woods could go. The trees grow older here. Their bark is gnarled and silver, their roots thick as wolves’ backs. The forest hums with power, old and pulsing beneath my feet. Every step feels like a choice. Every breath like a question.Then I see it.The clearing opens suddenly, like a breath held too long finally released. And in the center stands the Weeping Tree.It’s massive, taller than any tree I’ve seen, its black bark cracked and weeping silver sap. The branches stretch high and wide, tangled like veins across the sky. Beneath it, the ground glows faintly, marked with ancient runes too old to read. The air is colder here. Heavy. Sacred.My heart stumbles.Because I’m not alone.Caroline stands at the base of the tree, arms crossed, her posture calm. But her eyes, sharp, calculating, give her away.“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she says smoothly, brushing a leaf from her coat
ALTHEAI wake with a jolt, my skin burning hot, my body shaking like a leaf in the wind. My breath rasps in and out, shallow and sharp. The world swims before my eyes, trees bending, twisting, dancing like shadows in a fire. My throat feels dry as ash.I reach out blindly, fingers digging into the cold earth. Caroline is gone. No trace of her beside me, just crushed grass where she might’ve slept and a bitter scent in the air, like betrayal.I try to stand, but my legs won’t listen. My feet are bare, I must’ve kicked off my boots during the fever. The ground bites at my soles, rough and freezing. I stumble forward, arms stretched out like a broken puppet. The forest spins. I blink, trying to see straight, but the trees blur together.I walk, or maybe I crawl. Time doesn’t feel real anymore.Leaves whisper my name. Althea. Althea. Mocking me. Pulling me deeper.My breath hitches when I see him.Asher.He stands beneath a crooked tree, one hand clutching his side. Blood stains his shirt
ALTHEAThe dawn seeps through the tangled branches like pale fingers, brushing my closed eyelids. I wake suddenly, a sharp sting crawling up my arm. Cold sweat slicks my skin as I pull back my sleeve and freeze.A deep, jagged wound cuts across my forearm—red and raw, fresh and bleeding. But I don’t remember falling, or being attacked. The forest must have done this while I slept. It feeds on weakness, on fear. I swallow hard, tasting copper in my mouth, and bite back the rising panic.I force myself to breathe slow and steady. I can’t afford to lose control.I press my hand against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, then look around. The trees stand tall and silent, shadows curling at their feet. The forest watches, waiting for me to falter.I have to move.My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten since before I entered the woods.Finding food and water feels urgent now—more than just survival. It’s a lifeline.I remind myself of the goals I set before: find water, find food, keep mov
ALTHEAThe instant the cold mist of Mirror Woods wraps around me, I feel the forest shift beneath my feet. The moment I step through that swirling wall of fog, I am no longer surrounded by others. I’m alone, dropped into silence broken only by my own breath and the soft rustling of leaves.A faint pulse of fear flutters in my chest, but I push it down. I have to be strong. I have to survive.I pull out a small piece of chalk from my pack and mark a symbol on the nearest tree, a simple arrow pointing back toward the way I came. If the woods twist and turn, I need to know where I started. I mark every tree I pass, careful not to lose my trail.Next, I set small goals for myself to stay grounded. “Make it to the clearing. Find water. Rest before nightfall.” Step by step, I tell myself. One moment at a time.At first, the forest feels like an ordinary place, trees tall and gray, roots twisting like sleeping snakes. But soon, strange things start happening.The trees seem to shift ever so
ALTHEAThe throne room is colder than I expected.Stone walls loom high above, echoing with the quiet shuffle of footsteps as all the girls gather. We stand in neat rows, eyes on the throne, waiting. The air is heavy, filled with that strange mixture of boredom and anxiety that always comes before the king appears. I tell myself it’s just a routine check-in, a chance to show progress on our projects.But the moment the king steps out, the silence deepens. His face is unreadable, sharp shadows falling across his features in the dim light. He doesn’t smile or scowl. He just looks at us, calm and steady, like a storm waiting to break.“When I call you here today,” he begins, voice low and slow, “it is not for your usual progress report.”A cold knot forms in my stomach.His eyes lock on me for a second, or maybe it’s just my nerves, and then he continues. “The next trial you face will not test your magic. Nor your politics or your ability to persuade.”He pauses, his gaze sweeping over e
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