The Bride of an Alpha
Her fur glowed with a deep, ethereal silver, and at the center of her forehead was a crescent moon, glowing softly.
The hall was silent, every eye fixed on Seraphine.
One of the elders stepped forward, his voice trembling. "The crescent moon... it’s the mark of the true chosen one."
The Alpha’s face twisted in fury and disbelief. "This wasn’t supposed to happen! Alyssa is the chosen one!" he shouted, but his voice faltered as the undeniable truth hung heavy in the air.
Seraphine’s stepmother, her face pale and twisted in anger, hissed from the side of the room. "No! She’s nothing! Just a useless orphan!" Her voice cracked with desperation, but no one listened.
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