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Abby's POV

"Hey! Watch out!” A sharp voice cut through my thoughts, jerking me back to reality. I looked up just in time to see a car speeding toward me. A firm hand seized my arm, pulling me back to the sidewalk. I stumbled, twisting my ankle as I fell onto the pavement. “Arrghh!” I cried out, clutching my throbbing ankle.

My heart raced as I turned to face my rescuer. He held my arm firmly, concern etched across his face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I... I think so,” I stammered, still shaken. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Clearly,” he said with a nod. “You could have gotten yourself killed.” He released my arm and added, “Just be careful.”

I nodded, my mouth opening and closing as I struggled to find words. “Thank you,” I managed to say, but he was already walking away, his back disappearing into the crowd.

I had been so lost in the distressing news from my father that I barely noticed the traffic light turn red or the imminent danger. The morning I had begun with a jolt, just like the one that had nearly cost me my life just now. Over breakfast, Father had delivered a shock that felt as sudden and violent as the near-accident.

“Abby, you are marrying Alpha Hayden of the Duskfire Pack,” he announced with an air of finality. My eyes widened in shock and terror as if struck by a sledgehammer. My fork paused in mid-air as I stared at him. “Alpha Hayden? Marriage?” My voice quivered. “Why?”

“It has been decided for the good of the pack,” he replied, his gaze fixed on his plate as if the matter were settled. “Preparations for your marriage will begin immediately. You need to be ready.”

“Father,” I murmured, my voice trembling as I struggled to swallow the food. Still in shock and confusion, I turned to my mother, searching for some explanation. But she remained silent, her gaze fixed on her barely touched meal.

The pain in my ankle was sharp, but it couldn’t compete with the ache in my chest. Still on the floor where I fell, I choked out, “It’s not fair,” tears streaming down my face as I stared at the fading light of the evening sky. “I don’t want this. I want my own life.”

The thought of marrying Hayden felt like a noose tightening around my neck. “Everything’s changing,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t know what to do. I feel so lost.” I struggled to my feet, each step heavy with my thoughts. The evening air was warm as I limped toward our mansion.

Inside, I tried to hide my limp. Guards passed by, barely glancing at me. Maids looked up, their concern clear, but they continued their work. I overheard their hushed conversation. "She looks hurt," whispered one maid to another.

"Probably just clumsy again," the other maid replied dismissively. "Always lost in her world." She continued, “She is always the odd one out.”

“It must be hard for her,” the first maid murmured.

“Hard for her, but harder for the pack with her being wolfless," the second maid replied with a hint of disdain, shaking her head.

"Poor thing," the first maid murmured, casting a pitying glance my way. "She's a constant reminder of weakness. No wonder they're marrying her off to Hayden," the second maid said and hissed.

Their words stung, a painful reminder of my place in the pack. Since I turned eighteen and couldn't shift, I felt more like a servant than a member of my father's house, receiving no respect or honor from the staff.

I pushed through the front door of the grand sitting room and then continued to the inner sitting room. The room was eerily quiet until my stepsister Freya burst in, her eyes scanning me with a mix of alarm and irritation. “You look like you’ve been hit by a freight train. What happened to you?” she demanded, genuine worry in her gaze.

I collapsed onto the couch, barely suppressing a groan. “It’s been a nightmare. Father’s decision…..it’s too much. I’m….”

“Hold up.” Freya cut me off, stepping closer with concern. “It's about the arranged marriage, isn't it?” I could feel my emotions bubbling over. “Yes, it is this damned arranged marriage. I can’t believe father is doing this to me.”

Freya’s expression softened as she sat beside me. “I understand. This is a lot to take in, but you have to be strong, Abby,” she said, patting my back gently.

I looked up at her, my voice breaking as tears filled my eyes. “Why me, Freya? Why am I being forced to marry someone I don’t even know, especially when all I’ve heard are terrifying rumors about how ruthless he is? It feels like my whole world is collapsing, Freya.”

Freya sighed, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and a hint of impatience. “Abby, I get that this is devastating. But you need to understand, our pack is on the brink of disaster and Alpha Hayden is our best hope.” She took a deep breath, her posture straightening with a blend of urgency and self-assuredness. “Hayden may be ruthless, but he’s powerful and influential.”

“Disaster?” I echoed, confused. “And me marrying that alpha is the solution?” I asked, frustration evident. I’m always left out of important information.

“Yes,” Freya affirmed. “A powerful corporation wants our land to build a commercial complex. It would destroy everything we've built for generations. Hayden has the influence and resources to help us. Father needs him as an ally to fend off this threat.”

“But why can't you marry him? You're stronger and more capable,” I pleaded.

“Father couldn’t offer me,” Freya explained. “I’m crucial to the pack’s morale and strength. Sacrificing you was the only way to protect our pack during this crisis.”

“What about my life?” I cried out, my voice cracking as tears streamed down my face. “Doesn’t that matter at all? Don’t I get a say in my future? This isn’t fair, Freya. I’m losing everything. My freedom, my dreams...everything.”

Freya took my hand. “You’re stronger than you think, Abby. You have to stand up and fight for yourself. You can get through this.”

I absorbed her words, still feeling indifferent. “So, I’m just the best option for this... sacrifice?”

Freya met my gaze steadily, her tone empathetic. “It’s not about sacrifice. It’s about making the best choice for the pack’s survival and future, Abby.”

Before I could respond, the door creaked open behind us. We both turned to see a strange figure entering the inner sitting room where we were, our faces etched with curiosity.

"Who are you? Who let you in here?" Freya demanded, her tone icy and authoritative, carrying the weight of her alpha heritage.

The man's expression was unreadable. We both tensed, or at least I did, feeling my breath caught in my throat. Freya's body remained poised, every muscle primed for a swift response. “Abby, stay behind me,” she commanded, her voice low and steady. The door swung open wider.