I Volunteer As Tribute Novels & Stories

I crossed the room and crouched in front of her, both hands on her shoulders the way I always did when I needed her to understand something completely. "Then it's me," I said. "Elena—" Lucian started. "It's me," I said again, not looking away from Aurora. "Whatever this sacrifice is. Whoever it needs to be. I volunteer. Right now, before anyone else has the chance to." Aurora looked at me with those gold eyes, steady and sad in a way that no child's face should ever have to hold. "It doesn't work like that," she said. "What do you mean it doesn't work like that?" I said. "I'm offering."

“Step forward, Ella.” My legs felt like stone, but I obeyed. I walked through the parting crowd until I stood at the foot of the platform. The Alpha descended the steps and took my hand in his, squeezing it like we were family. “You are a credit to this pack,” he said loudly, for everyone to hear. “By offering yourself as tribute, you carry the torch for all of us. We are proud to have such a selfless omega willing to sacrifice for the greater good.” His words tasted like ash. I knew the truth. I was disposable. Unwanted. The weakest link no one would miss.

a male voice barked, irritated. “Where am I?” I gasped, my heart hammering. “What’s going on?” The man sighed, muttering something under his breath. “It’s not like you don’t know. The Alpha arranged for you to be a tribute.” “A… tribute?” The word felt foreign but then, I remembered Caden saying the exact same thing before I lost consciousness. The guard continued, unfazed by my shock. “The Alpha made a deal with the Rogue Sovereign. Said if we sent enough ‘tribute,’ he might spare us in his campaign. The Alpha thinks a pretty wolf like you will keep the Rogue Sovereign’s attention off Bloodstone.”

Unless… My heart drops. ‘Unless there is a volunteer, who is willing to give up his or her life to take the place of the person who was originally sacrificed’.

Tauri fought alongside us without knowing my true identity, and my true intention for precluding the ritual from taking place. I told him white lies that the Cuvari tribe had the wrong final tribute. It was true. The last tribute, Agnes, was a powerful rogue wolf they found in Brazil, but she wasn’t my other half. She became a loyal subject of mine after we saved her life and promised to aid me if I needed her help.

“But I do wonder what’s inside.” “Perhaps the tributes?” The room stiffened. All of the eyes turned to Mrs. Manson who was carefully leaning over the table to refill our tea cups. Her eyes flickered to the faces around her and she straightened, clearing her throat. “My apologies for chiming in, My Lords. But it does sound as though you’re describing the the tributes.” “Care to explain?” Adrian asked. Mrs. Manson folded her hands in front of her and bowed her head. “The free humans who live under the ‘protection’ of the Silver Moon must pay for their freedom. They do so by providing tribute to the city.”

In each patient's smile, in the shared moments of vulnerability, and in the connections forged in the midst of life's fragility, Abigail found a way to celebrate and immortalize the essence of her dear friend. Sophia's memory lived on not just within the walls of Larry's apartment but also in the lives touched by Abigail's selfless acts. The charitable work became a living tribute, a continuation of the love and kindness Sophia had sown during her time on Earth. Abigail, in her dedication to service, carried forward Sophia's legacy, turning grief into a force for positive change.

Lucian and I worked together on the tribute, carefully selecting words that could convey both grief and gratitude. When the day came, the church smelled faintly of lilies and candles. The girls sat quietly, wrapped in blankets, clutching small mementos my father had given them over the years—tiny drawings, a notebook, a hand-carved wooden horse. Aria leaned against my arm, Arianna held Lucian’s hand tightly, and Arian sat upright, trying to appear composed, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. When it was time for the reading of the tribute, I stepped forward first. My voice shook, but I carried on, each word a lifeline, each sentence an offering to his memory.