All Chapters of Beg For Me, Alpha Kael : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Aria's POV The thick, cream-colored envelope sat on my small wooden desk, the gold seal of the Lunar Selection Society gleaming under my dim desk lamp. This is when I realized I have been reborn, back to the time I was accepted into the Lunar Selection Society. To Miss Aria Ashbourne. We are pleased to inform you that you have qualified for the upcoming season of the Lunar Selection. Your elegance, intellect, and lineage have met the highest standards of the High Council. You are officially invited to enter the gates as Mask Number 27. My hands shook as I held the paper. My heart hammered against my ribs, a burst of pure, unadulterated hope blooming in my chest, I've gotten the chance to rewrite my destiny. The Lunar Selection Society. The most prestigious matchmaking institution on the continent. Only one hundred ladies were chosen every five years, their identities hidden behind masks to allow the most elite Alphas to judge them strictly on merit and soul compatibility.

I stood outside the pack-house conservatory, holding a basket of freshly picked lunar-lilies from the clinic gardens. My father, the pack's healer had ordered me to deliver them to the Alpha’s estate for the pre-gala decorations, a final chore to ensure I was kept busy while Seraphina finalized her beauty treatments at home. Every step I took sent a sharp, throbbing reminder through my taped ribs, but my mind was perfectly numb. I was just about to reach for the handle of the glass double doors when a low, familiar laugh stopped me cold. "Stop it, Kael... someone might see us," Seraphina’s voice giggled, breathless and airy. I froze, stepping back into the shadow of the thick ivy crawling up the brick wall. I had stumbled upon this in my past life but I didn't allow my mind to process it as a betrayal because I trusted Kael, I just delivered the flowers and went straight back home. But now, through the slightly dusty glass pane of the conservatory window, the scene unfolded like a

The rain punished. It lashed against the heavy iron gates of the Lunar Selection Society, driving a thick, freezing mist over the hundreds of masked nobles waiting in the queue. Nobody complained. In the elite werewolf underworld, a prompt appearance at the Selection was the difference between an alliance and annihilation.I stood near the back of the line, the hem of my midnight-black silk gown dragging against the gravel. Unlike the women around me who shivered in their furs, my skin was deathly still. A quiet, concentrated heat rolled through my bone marrow, a tiny, controlled spark of the divine bloodline I had unlocked at the bottom of the ocean. It kept the freezing rain from numbing my fingers.“Steady, Aria,” Nyx whispered deep inside my soul. She wasn't pacing or growling. She sat in the dark recesses of my mind like a spider on a web, her silver eyes tracking every guard, every weapon, and every security flaw. “Hide the light. If the High Council detects even a single drop o

Alpha King Lucien Storm didn’t answer with words. His grip on my waist tightened, his large, scarred palm burning fiercely hot through the thin midnight silk of my gown. Before I could even draw a clean breath, his arm anchored against my spine and he dragged me directly into the center of the polished obsidian floor.The orchestra’s waltz swelled, the violins crying out a haunting, predatory melody, but the grand room around us went entirely dead silent.The ten-foot dead zone that had naturally insulated the King near the pillars shifted with us, cutting a path straight through the crowd. The other masked Alphas and ladies practically threw themselves backward, scrambling to clear a wide circle. Their eyes widened behind their lace visors, whispers breaking out like a sudden wildfire. The cold Alpha who had ignored every high-born female on the continent for three consecutive Selections, was finally dancing. And he was dancing with a nameless, midnight-clad shadow. Mask 99."You hav

The morning sun didn't bring warmth to the Selection Society grounds; it only brought a sharp, blinding light that reflected off the frost-covered stone. By noon, the grand courtyard had been transformed into a cold, transactional arena for the second day of the opening week. According to the ancient rules of the Selection, the first seven days were dedicated entirely to public observation. The high-ranking Alphas were required to sit at the long stone tables flanking the courtyard, while the ladies walked the perimeter, showcasing their grace, their posture, and their restraint under the heavy pressure of the Alphas' gazes. It was a psychological meat market, and everyone knew it. I walked the southern path alone, the midnight-black silk of my gown swapped for a structured, dark velvet robe that brushed against the frosted grass. Mask 99 remained firmly locked onto my face, the silver filigree catching the winter sun. “He’s at the center table,” Nyx murmured, her inner voice shar