LOGINSophia
My face turns towards the right while the skin of my cheek stings with the impact of the slap.
My eyes burn with tears, which I refuse to release as my gaze is trained on the floor.
"Apologize to Cynthia right now!" My father bellows causing me to flinch. "How dare you disrespect my wife and your Luna by questioning her actions?!"
My mother died soon after giving birth to me, and my father blamed me for her death. When I turned three, councilmen asked my father to take a second chance mate because his wolf was going crazy without his mate. Even though he didn't want to, he had to find another mate because, slowly, his wolf was going insane.
Since my mother was his true mate, he never wanted to give her place to anyone else, so instead of taking Cynthia as his second chance mate, he married her.
Cynthia is what you can call a true definition of an evil stepmother. She hated me from the moment she married my father and made it clear to me that I was unwanted in her house.
But since she couldn't kick me out, she made sure to make my life miserable at every chance she got.
"She punished Emily for no reason." I speak in a low but firm voice, "She is a small child who just took an apple from the fruit basket."
"She stole the apple." Cynthia glares at me, then turns her gaze to my father and places her hand on his arm, "Emily is a child. That's why it is important for her to learn if she needs something, then she should ask instead of stealing. I was disciplining her by ordering her to fetch five buckets of water from the well, not punishing her."
"I even asked Janet to accompany her and help her with completing her task." She sighs and shakes her head, "I am mother of this pack; I am not cruel as Sophia thinks of me."
"You don't have to justify yourself; I know you." Father wraps an arm around her as she softly cries, "This girl is nothing but a nuisance. It seems like killing my Selena wasn't enough for her, so each day she does something that only hurts others." He glares at me with such hatred that the tears that I was holding back spill from my eyes.
"No food for you for five days, and you will work with the omegas for the preparation of a full moon ball." He puts every bit of his Alpha command behind his words while glaring at me.
"Yes, Alpha." Bowing my head, I show my neck in submission to him.
Strangely, Alpha commands never work on me, but I haven't told anyone about this, especially my father. If I told him then he would find one more reason to hate me thinking I am challenging his authority.
I turn and leave the room, my head held low. As I walk through the halls of the pack house, I feel the weight of everyone's stares. Whispers follow me, but I am used to it. I've been an outcast my whole life. I pass Emily in the kitchen, her eyes red from crying. She looks up at me with a mixture of guilt and gratitude, and I manage a small smile for her.
"I am sorry, Sophia." She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, "I was hungry."
"It's okay, Emily," I say softly and reassuringly.
Emily is one of the orphans of the pack. Her parents died in a car accident two years back; since she doesn't have any family who could take her in, she lives in the orphanage.
I head out to my room in the packhouse where I live since I am not allowed to live in the Alpha house, ready to start my punishment.
Physical labor is nothing new to me; it's a way to keep my mind off the pain and loneliness that have become my constant companions. As I work, I think about my mother, the only person who might have loved me if she had lived.
And sometimes my thoughts shift to the person whom Moon Goddess has chosen for me... my mate.
My heart clings to the hope that one day, I'll find him, and he'll take me away from this misery.
Something in me tells me that soon, my wait is about to come to an end.
LucasThe first thing that hits me when I enter Arthur’s office is the smell of smoke. Thick. Bitter. It sits in the room like it belongs here. Arthur takes another pull from his cigar and exhales slowly, eyes never leaving me as I cross the threshold. He looks exactly as he always does when he wants control. Relaxed posture. Sharp attention.The door closes behind me with a quiet finality. No echo. No drama. Just a sound that tells me this conversation is meant to stay contained.Arthur gestures toward the empty chair in front of his desk. I sit, my movements calm, my focus already dissecting the room. The bookshelf behind him. The way his fingers rest near the ashtray. The faint tension in his jaw that suggests he is expecting resistance.“So,” I say, skipping any pretense, “what is going on?”He does not answer right away. He watches me instead, like he is deciding which version of the truth to offer.“Arthur,” I continue, keeping my voice even, “I need to know everything. This is
LucasWhen Arthur called me that night, I did not pause to think. My mind knew it was related to Aurora.That is enough to make every other consideration feel small.Jack argued first. He always does when he thinks I am walking into something sharp. Mikhail backed him up, quieter but no less firm. Coming alone was a bad idea. Walking into her family’s territory without support was unnecessary risk. They were not wrong. I knew that even as I ignored them.I could not bring anyone else into this. If something went wrong, it needed to end with me. So I told them I was going alone.When I reached the estate, Arthur met me before I even fully stepped inside. He looked the same as always. Controlled. Composed. But there was something underneath it that night, something restless.He told me he was going to acknowledge my relationship with Aurora in front of everyone.Not ask. Not suggest. State.He did not give details. He did not explain the timing. He just said it needed to happen tonight.
AuroraThe aura coming off Lucas is something I have never felt before.It presses into the space around him quietly, like the room itself has decided to lean away.There is something so dangerous about him... something you can't pinpoint at, yet you can feel it in your bones.The woman is still talking when he reaches them.She is halfway through another sentence, lips pursed with that familiar mix of pity and superiority, when she notices him. Her words die mid-breath. It is almost comical, the way her confidence evaporates. Her eyes flick to his face, then past him, as if searching for backup that does not exist.Lucas smiles.It is polite. Perfectly shaped. Empty.The kind of smile that makes your stomach drop before your mind catches up. There is no warmth in it, not even a trace. Just restraint sharpened to an edge.“The woman you are talking about,” he says, voice even and clear, “is my woman.”Every sound in the room thins out. Conversations stall. Someone behind me clears the
AuroraPeople start moving toward us almost immediately. It happens in waves, like someone opened a gate and now everyone feels permitted. Smiles, nods, hands extending. Congratulations offered in soft voices and louder ones. I catch fragments as they pass through me.You look beautiful together. Such a striking pair. He suits you. She suits you.I notice the way people look at Lucas first, then at me, then back at Lucas again as if confirming something they already decided. I am used to being looked at, assessed, weighed. Tonight feels different.I always tell myself that opinions do not matter. That I do not need validation from strangers or family friends or anyone who only sees fragments of me. Most days, that is true. Tonight, though, the words slip past my defenses. They land somewhere soft.It makes me feel like I belong here beside him. Like I earned this space without having to ask for it.Because Lucas is Lucas.I know how people see him. I see it every time he walks into
AuroraEach step he takes feels like something clicking into place. The room shifts around him. Conversations lose their rhythm. Glasses pause halfway to lips. Someone laughs too loud and then stops. I catch all of it because my mind does that thing where it notices too much at once. Lucas has that kind of presence that bends attention without trying. The kind that makes rooms rearrange themselves around him. It would take a miracle for him to walk in somewhere and not pull every gaze his way.Mine.The thought hits me fast and unapologetic. A tight, possessive warmth wraps around my chest, not painful, just insistent. I watch the way his shoulders move beneath his suit jacket, how his gaze stays forward even when he knows people are staring. He does not scan the room. He does not look impressed or curious. He walks like he already knows what is about to happen next, already sure of the next move... sure of himself.The Russells stiffen first. Mr. Russells shoulders draw back a touch,
AuroraThe music fades in a soft, polite way, like it knows it has done its job and should step aside now. Lucas loosens his hold first. Always him. Always controlled. He steps back just enough to remind the world where the line is, even if my body wants to pretend that line does not exist.Then he takes my hand.Not possessive. Not rushed. Just his fingers closing around mine, warm and familiar, and he lifts my hand between us. His lips brush my knuckles, light enough to feel like a secret meant only for me. The sensation spreads fast, heat unfurling through my chest, my arms, my mark responding with a quiet throb that makes me suck in a breath.I look at him, searching his face. His eyes are calm, unreadable to anyone else. To me, they say everything.He guides me off the dance floor, releasing my hand only when we reach the edge. For a moment I stand there, watching him walk away like he belongs here, like he has always belonged here. He joins a group of men near the far side of th







