Chapter 1: Forced Marriage

“You’re going to cry and ruin everything,” Selene muttered, trying to adjust the tiara on her sister’s blonde hair while Lyria stood still, eyes fixed on her reflection.

“Let it get ruined,” she whispered, voice shaky. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“Me neither, but it’s happening. We’re daughters of an Alpha, we don’t get to choose, remember?”

As she spoke, trying to comfort her sister and get her to stay still in her wedding dress, Selene shoved her own feelings aside. She looked beautiful, exactly how a princess was supposed to look. Her dress was stunning, embroidered with golden threads, but to her, it was nothing more than a fancy prison uniform. The jeweled tiara sat atop her fiery red hair, sparkling between the strands, making everything more beautiful, and, to her, more tragic.

“It’s just a political ritual,” she continued, more to herself than anyone else. “They want to seal the alliance with the Éreon Pack. You marry Seam, I marry Deimon, and that’s it. They get territory, our father gains influence, and we get... well, nothing.”

“We get a golden cell. That’s what we get,” Lyria shot back with a heavy sigh, and the two of them exchanged a long, silent look.

It was the truth, all they were gaining was a gilded cage.

The silence broke with a knock at the door.

“It’s time.”

It was their mother’s voice, Elena, the Luna. Always composed, always submissive to their father.

Selene took a deep breath before opening the door and found her mother’s impassive gaze. She was dressed like a moon priestess, draped in a pearl-gray cloak that shimmered under the hallway lights.

“You look beautiful, daughter.”

“It’s a prisoner’s outfit. Just like yours,” Selene snapped, making her mother sigh.

Elena raised an eyebrow.

“You’re fulfilling your destiny. That’s more important than your desires.”

“And what if my destiny was something else?”

“Dreams are for ordinary she-wolves, Selene. You and your sister were born to serve the pack, long before this nonsense about hearts and bonds.”

Selene tried to argue, but swallowed the words. There was no point. It had always been this way, obedience first, feelings later.

“I just wanted... to meet my destined mate. To be sure. To feel that real connection, like in the stories.”

“That’s a luxury we don’t have. You’re a princess. You’ll marry whoever your father chooses.”

“Then why did you tell me those stories when I was little? Why did you make me dream of those things?”

Elena didn’t answer. She simply stepped aside, leaving the hallway clear to the temple.

Lyria took her sister’s hand and squeezed it tightly.

“Just pretend it’s a stage play. Look straight ahead, smile and wave.”

Selene nodded, throat tight.

The temple doors opened slowly. The place was full, Alphas and Lunas seated on white stone benches, all with hungry eyes. The full moon poured through the high stained glass window, casting silver light across the floor.

At the altar, the two grooms waited.

Deimon, tall and broad, with a rigid jaw and eyes like a predator’s.

Seam beside him, smiling like he was buying livestock.

Neither of them looked happy, just... ready, like they’d sealed a business deal.

Selene tried not to tremble, but the feeling was unbearable.

The wolf inside her cried, curled up in mourning for a mate she would never meet.

They were killing something inside her she hadn’t even known existed.

As she walked between the guests, she heard the whispers, the comments sizing them up.

“Finally, those two will be useful.”

“At least they’re pretty.”

“Hope they know how to behave.”

Every step was an insult dressed as tradition.

Lyria heard it too, but like her sister, she pretended not to.

“Almost there,” she whispered.

But they never made it to the altar.

A howl shattered the air, too loud, too strong... and unfamiliar. It wasn’t from any Crimson Moon wolf or their allies.

Silence held for one long second, everyone staring at each other, confused,

And then... screaming.

“INVASION!”

“PROTECT THE ALPHA!”

“RUN!”

The temple doors exploded inward with brutal force, wood splintering everywhere.

Men stormed in, dressed in black with silver masks.

They were warriors from the Northern Iron Pack.

Beside them, others had already shifted into their wolf forms.

They were savages.

They didn’t fight like soldiers.

They fought like monsters, ripping and slaughtering without mercy.

Selene yanked Lyria to her side, trying to run, but she stumbled over something.

She looked down…

A woman. One of the guests.

Dead. Her throat slit wide open.

A warrior rushed past her like a shadow, cleaving a guard’s head off with a massive axe, while another drove a blade deep into the Crimson Moon captain’s chest.

“LYRIA!”

Selene turned, heart pounding…

But her sister was gone.

Swallowed by the chaos.

The temple had become a slaughterhouse.

Guards tried to fight back, but they were weak, unprepared for an attack during a wedding.

Every second, more bodies hit the floor.

More blood.

More agony.

And then...

He walked in.

Slow.

Imposing.

The only one without a mask.

The Supreme Alpha of the North.

Walking like the chaos meant nothing to him, with a wide grin across his face.

His face was splattered with blood.

His eyes were silver, sharp as ice blades.

His presence calmed the frenzy.

His soldiers began to fall back, the killing slowing.

He stopped near the altar, right in front of her father.

Claus, Alpha of the Crimson Moon, tried to speak…

But the words stuck in his throat. He was frozen in terror.

Anton smiled.

A cruel smile.

No warmth.

No mercy.

“I think the wedding is off.”