Hello, mate!

Catherine's POV

“Dearly beloved, it is with great pain and sorrow that we are gathered here today, to mourn the death of Alpha Darryl and Luna Alice,” 

I stared blankly at the priestess who stood on the podium addressing the great crowd. On both sides of her were two coffins. My parents' coffins.  

“I can't believe they're gone,” Camille, my elder sister, clutched my hand, weeping into my neck.  

And me, I just stared. There was no explanation for how my parents died.  

Werewolves were not simple creatures. And my father was not weak. He was an Alpha who had protected his pack for many generations.  

Yet, three days ago, my sister and I walked in to see them dead on our living room floor. No strangling marks, no silver in their blood, no cut or injuries.  

Just dead.  

“You will forever live in our hearts,” the priestess announced, lowering her head in a bow. 

Everyone else followed suit. I remained standing. Whoever did this, I would find them. I would hunt them down until the last of my breath. 

The sound of cars revving into my parents garden, where the burial ceremony was taking place caught our attention.  

Sleek black cars, four of them, followed after each other, driving towards us at an alarming speed. The pack members scattered, scurrying out of the way as the car in the front crashed through the seats.

“Cathy,” Camille called, trying to pull me out of the way. “Cathy ran!” 

My legs remained glued to the spot. The car stopped abruptly before me, brushing against my legs lightly.  

Who were they? How dare they disrupt my parents’ burial! 

The doors opened and men in black suits and sunglasses stepped out of the vehicle. They stood still while one of them approached I and Camille.  

“Camille of Lionheart, our condolences,” The man addressed my sister.  

“Who are you?” I demanded, my face stoic yet every single vein in my body pumped with fury. “How dare you disrespect my parent's burial?” 

The man peeled off his sunglasses, revealing a moon tattoo just under his left eye. 

Gasps exploded in the air. They knew who this man was. A messenger of the Lycan King. My legs wobbled this time. The reality of it all was slowly starting to hit.  

My parents were dead. And the Lycan King was here for one thing only. 

“The Lycan King offers his condolences,” The man announced. “He sends his gifts and wishes the Lion heart pack well. He has also sent us to retrieve his promised bride. The daughter of your dead Alpha promised him.”

My sister. Camille.  

She paled beside me, gripping my hand in a death like grip.  

No, she mindlinked me. No, Catherine. I can't go. I'm mated to Jackson. I love him. I can't be with the Lycan King! 

“And if we refuse?” I asked the Messenger.  

He arched his brow as if the prospect of me refusing was funny and laughed. “Well, prepare to hold many more burials. The Lycan King is known for many things. His temper is one of them.” 

True. The Lycan King was a terror. He was the monster in our bedtime stories. No one really knew who he was or what he looked like. At least no one in Lionheart did. 

It couldn't be a coincidence that he had cashed in his demands the day my parents were buried. There was a scent in the air. Mild, sandalwood scent. I had smelled it the day we found our parents dead at home. I could smell it now that I stared the Lycan king's Messenger in the face.   

That cruel bastard had killed my parents.  

“Can we have a day at least?!” Camille blurted and I looked at her, confused. “My parents haven't been buried yet. I would like to wait and mourn and then I'll go with you. Tomorrow.” 

The Messenger shrugged and turned to walk away. “A car will be waiting at your doorstep, first thing tomorrow.” 

The men slipped into their cars and one after the other, they drove off as loud as they came. The priestess, terrified, ordered a swift burial of my parents and everyone dispersed quickly.  

Six in the evening, my sister dragged me down to the club out of town.   

“Why are we doing this, Camille?” I asked as she adjusted her black slutty dress.  

“It's my last day as Camille Lionheart,” She sniffed, batting her brown eyes at me. “Soon I'll be the Lycan king's slave. I'd rather drink away my problems and not think about it,” 

My heart twinged. Was there a way to save my sister? A way to hide her so the cruel king would never find her? 

No.  

The Lycan King was not one to be messed with. He had wiped out an entire pack because they had trespassed his land. 

“Come on, drink with me,” Camille urged, tugging me into the club. 

It was loud and dingy. People grind their drunk sweaty bodies on the dancefloor while I got dragged to the bar by my sister. 

And that was when I felt it.  

Eyes on me. They burned, licked their way down my skin. The hairs on my neck stood. 

I looked around. There was a man sitting in the dark dingy corner of the club. I couldn't make out his looks, but I could see golden eyes. They glowed, staring back at me eerily.  

He rose from his seat then, towering above everyone else. He was usually tall, even for a werewolf. His presence was strong and I could feel the stirring of my wolf, which had remained dormant for too long.  

“Cathy, here's your drink,” My sister slid a glass at me, forcing me to break eye contact with the stranger for a moment. I grabbed the glass, chugged down the drink and looked back at him.  

He was gone. How had he moved so quickly between the throng of people dancing? My head felt heavy, my vision grew blurry, Camille said something but I couldn't understand.  

Only two words pierced through whatever haze clouded my mind before everything went black. 

“Hello, mate,”