CHAPTER 2

Elara's POV

The rest of the day blurred into steam, blood, and the rhythmic thud of a butcher’s knife.

I prepped dozens of steaks, hauled heavy crates of vegetables, and washed more dishes than I could count. 

My back throbbed where the whip had struck, the salt-thick kitchen air making every cut burn.

By the time the last tray was cleaned and the kitchen fell silent, the moon was already high.

Night.

I shook my head, clearing the haze of exhaustion. I was getting ahead of myself. 

The Blood Moon wasn’t tonight; it was still two weeks away.

Two weeks until my eighteenth birthday.

I leaned against the heavy wooden prep table, staring through the small, barred window at the silver glow of the waxing moon. 

In any other pack, the Alpha’s daughter would be preparing for a grand debut, choosing silks and lace to celebrate her transition into adulthood.

For me, the only hope I had left was the mate bond.

“Just two more weeks,” I whispered to the empty kitchen. “Please, Moon Goddess… let my mate be kind. Let him be someone who will take me away from this miserable fate. Anywhere but here.”

Escaping Silver Ridge was my only choice.

I couldn’t survive another year as a ghost in my own home.

“Are you daydreaming again, you lazy brat?”

The voice sliced through the silence like a jagged blade.

I flinched violently, my body reacting before my mind could process who it was. 

In my panic, my arm swept across the counter, knocking over a heavy iron pot of boiling water I had just removed from the stove.

The scalding liquid splashed over my left hand and wrist.

“Aaghh!”

The scream died in my throat as the searing heat hit my skin. I staggered back, clutching my arm, the pain so intense it turned my vision white.

“Look at you! Now you’ve made a mess of the floor I just saw you cleaning!” The head cook, a woman with a heart as cold as the meat lockers, marched toward me. 

She didn’t look at my red, blistering skin. She only looked at the puddle on the floor. 

“Get a cloth and dry it up before I tell the Beta’s wife you’re being destructive. Move!”

I bit my tongue, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth as I fought the urge to cry out. 

My hand throbbed with a rhythmic, burning pulse, but I didn’t dare reach for the cold-water tap.

With my good hand, I grabbed a rag and dropped to my knees, once again at floor level.

As I wiped up the hot water, my tears finally escaped, dripping into the mess I was cleaning.

Two weeks. I just had to survive two more weeks.

*****

As much as I prayed for time to move quickly, it stretched into an agonizing crawl. 

Every second was a new test of my endurance.

“Move it, girl! The Alpha’s table doesn’t wait for Omegas!” the head maid shrieked, shoving a heavy silver platter of roasted meat into my blistered hands.

My head throbbed, and the steam rising from the platters made the air thick and suffocating. 

I felt like I was going to faint, my legs trembling beneath me, but I forced myself into the dining hall.

I had to serve them. I had to stand there and watch the perfect family.

Alpha Vance sat at the head of the table, laughing at something Kaelith had said, while my mother, Luna Vance, looked at the adopted girl with eyes full of warmth, a warmth I hadn’t felt in a decade. 

They looked so happy. 

So loving. 

So complete.

And then there was me.

The shadow in the corner.

Once the serving was done, I was permitted to sit at the far end of the long table, the Omega’s seat.

My appetite vanished the moment I looked at the food. 

Across from me, the younger pack children made distorted faces, snickering under their breath. 

One boy deliberately tipped his water glass, letting the liquid spill across the wood and soak into the sleeve of my tattered shirt. 

He grinned, his eyes gleaming with a cruelty he’d learned from the adults.

They only did it when the Alphas weren’t looking, and I knew better than to speak up. 

No one would listen to my side; they would only punish me for “causing trouble.”

“Kaelith, that defensive maneuver you mastered today was flawless,” my father’s voice boomed, drowning out the clatter of silverware. “To celebrate, I’ve ordered a custom-made silver blade for you. You are the future this pack needs.”

“She’s a natural,” one of the elders added, patting Kaelith’s hand. “A true credit to the Vance name.”

The praise hit me like a physical blow. 

Combined with the searing pain in my burned hand and the ache in my chest, it was too much. 

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stay in a room where the air was filled with love for an outsider and nothing but coldness for me.

I rose quietly, keeping my head bowed so no one would see the tears blurring my vision, and slipped away into the shadows of the hallway. 

My footsteps were silent as I retreated to the only place where I was allowed to exist.

My room was nothing more than a converted storage closet in the cellar—cold, damp, and smelling of old stone. As soon as the door clicked shut, the dam broke.

I collapsed onto my thin cot, burying my face in a moth-eaten pillow to muffle the sound. I cried until my body shook with deep, racking sobs, until my eyes were swollen and my throat raw.

‘Is this all I am?’ I wondered, clutching my burned hand to my chest. ‘A placeholder in my own bloodline? A ghost waiting for a life that was stolen before it even began?’

I thought of Kaelith’s new silver blade and the way my mother had tucked a stray lock of hair behind the girl’s ear. 

They hadn’t even noticed I’d left the table.

If I died in this cellar tonight, they wouldn’t find me until the morning chores went unfinished.

“Please,” I whispered into the darkness, my voice a broken thread. “If there is any justice in the stars, let my mate be the one person who doesn’t look through me. Let him be my door out of this hell. I don’t need a king. I don’t need a crown. I just need to be seen.”

With that final, desperate plea clinging to my heart, I drifted off, the cold dampness of the cellar seeping into my bones.