1

In the shaded confines of our small shack, nestled in the heart of the Louisiana swamp, anticipation and unspoken fears filled the air. My mother, Lulie, her hands shaky yet determined, worked to arrange my unruly mousy brown curls into something resembling elegance. Her eyes, once mirrors of the vibrant soul within, now reflected a life marred by hardship and resignation. 

"Skyla, this ball in New Orleans... it's not just any social event. It's rumored to be where the high society pack wolves find their fated mates or pick their chosen ones," she explained, her fingers trembling as they threaded through my hair.

I pulled away, my skepticism evident. "Mama, you really believe what those papers say?"

She paused, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror's reflection. "It's more than just tales, baby. The papers related to high society are generating a lot of buzz. This year, several prominent names will be there. The Beta from the Bayou Pack, you went to school with him. Alphas from neighboring territories, and even the Beauvieux Alpha. And the Monroe triplets pack is hosting this year... they say those boys could charm the moon from the sky."

I bit my lip, my mind reeling at the thought of such renowned company. The Monroe triplets, famous for their allure and strength, were the stuff of local legends.

The door slammed open before I could digest this information, and my father, Burk, stormed in. His presence was like a dark cloud descending upon our already gloomy world. His eyes, cold and unyielding, scanned the room, settling on me with a disdainful glare.

My mother moved towards him in an attempt to quiet the impending storm, "Burk, please, let's keep tonight calm. Skyla has a big evening ahead of her."

His response was immediate and brutal. With a swift movement, he struck her across the face, sending her crashing to the floor. My heart raced, terror gripping me as I watched her struggle to stand.

"Enough of your nonsense," he growled, "I don't care about those high-and-mighty wolves and their damned good-for-nothing balls."

I rushed to my mother's side, helping her to her feet. Her whispered words of reassurance did little to quiet the emotions within me. Anger, fear, and a profound sense of helplessness swirled in my chest.

In his haste to leave, my father's heavy boot connected with my foot, snapping the heel of my carefully chosen thrift store shoe. I stumbled, the sharp crack of the heel echoing in the cramped space, mirroring the breaking of something inside me.

My mother's hands were gentle as she examined my foot. "Are you okay, honey?"

I nodded, holding back the tears that threatened to spill. It wasn't just the pain of the fall or the broken heel. It was the culmination of years of living in the shadow of a man who knew only how to inflict pain and fear.

As he exited, my father's parting words were a vicious sneer. "Enjoy your fairy tale evening, Princess Pathetic."

After his departure, my mother and I sat in silence, the weight of our reality pressing down on us. She picked up the broken heel, her fingers tracing its jagged edges. "Well, hopefully no one will notice your flip-flops," she said with a sad smile.

Looking down at my feet, the absurdity of attending an opulent ball in worn-out flip-flops wasn't lost on me. Yet, as I stared at my reflection in the cracked mirror, a defiant spark ignited within me. Despite the broken heel, the shadow of my father's cruelty, and my insecurities, I was determined to face whatever awaited me at that ball.

The journey to the ball was silent, my thoughts a rough mess of nerves and apprehension. The car that came to pick me up was modest,  contrasting to the luxurious limousines and sleek, high-priced cars that glided past us towards the grand mansion. Each seemed to whisper of a world so far removed from my own.

As we pulled up to the venue, I felt a sinking sensation in my stomach. I was an intruder in this world of luxury and magnificence. The mansion towered over me, its grandeur a sharp reminder of the one-room shack I called home.

Hesitantly, I stepped out of the car, my heart pounding. The splendor of the mansion was overwhelming, its magnificence almost surreal. I stood there, frozen, my hand still clutching the car door, my eyes tracing the intricate designs of the wrought-iron railings.

The usher broke my reverie with his sharp, cutting words. "Move along, swamp trash. You're holding up the line."

His words stung like a slap to the face. I felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment, his contempt crushing me. I tried to speak, to defend myself, but my words came out in a stutter, and my composure shattered.

In my flustered state, I stepped back, misjudging the curb. My foot slipped, and I tumbled into the mud beside the car, the dirty water splashing over my dress and flip-flops. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, humiliation and despair washing over me in equal measure. 

My night started on shaky ground and now seemed irrevocably ruined.

As I considered my fate sitting in the mud, an authoritative voice cut through the air. "Fletcher! Is that any way to treat a guest? Show some decency!"

Suddenly, a towering figure loomed over me, his presence commanding and unmistakable. It was one of the Monroe triplets, his piercing blue eyes blazing with a fire that seemed to challenge the world itself. His tall, muscular frame stood protectively between me and the sneering usher, Fletcher. 

"Knox...I," Fletcher started. Knox cut him off. 

"I'll ask again. Is this how you treat our guests, Fletcher?" Knox's voice thundered, a low growl underpinning his words. "Your behavior is shameful!"

Fletcher, who moments ago exuded arrogance, now seemed to shrink under Knox's intense gaze. His eyes darted around, seeking an escape from the scrutiny of the formidable Alpha before him.

"I-I'm sorry, Mr. Monroe," Fletcher stammered, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean—"

"Didn't mean what? To humiliate a guest? To be a complete embarrassment to our family?" Knox cut him off again, his tone sharp as a blade.

Fletcher bowed his head, reduced to a mere shadow of his former self. "No, sir. It won't happen again."

Knox stared at him for a moment longer, ensuring his message was received, before turning to me. The transformation was startling. The fierce, commanding Alpha now looked at me with eyes filled with concern and kindness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, extending his hand to help me. "I'm terribly sorry for what happened. Fletcher's behavior is inexcusable and will be dealt with."

 I nodded, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions.

"Thank you," I managed to say, my voice a mere whisper.

I managed a weak smile, my heart still racing. "I think I should just go home," I murmured, signaling the car to wait.

"Nonsense," Knox insisted. "My sister wore a similar dress to the last ball. I will take you to her. She'll help you clean up or get you a new dress."

I blinked in surprise. "This is where you live?"

He shook his head. "No, I live in the Quarter. This is my parents' house."

Despite my initial hesitation, I slowly nodded and reached for his hand. 

"I'm Knox," he said as he helped me out of the mud.

"Skyla," I replied, still trying to regain my composure.

Knox led the way through the complicated corridors of the mansion. The "back halls," as he called them, differed from the opulent grandeur of the main areas. Here, the walls were lined with old family portraits, their eyes seeming to follow us as we walked.

As we walked, I trailed behind him, acutely aware of the mud caked on my dress and flip-flops leaving tracks. "I can't believe I'm sneaking through the Monroe mansion. I'm sorry I'm making such a mess," I murmured.

Knox glanced back, his smile reassuring. "You're not sneaking. You're an honored guest taking the scenic route. Don't worry about the mud. We have people who take care of that."

"I don't want everyone seeing me like this," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. The embarrassment from the earlier incident still clung to me like a second skin.

"Don't worry," Knox reassured me, "We'll avoid the main areas. No one will see."

As we navigated the maze of hallways, I couldn't help but marvel at the expanse of the mansion. It was an uncomfortable reminder of the world Knox came from, a world so different from my own.

Eventually, we reached a door that led out to the back garden. The night air was cool and refreshing. The garden was a vision of beauty under the moonlight, with flowers in bloom and the soft rustling of leaves.

He led me around a corner quickly, but our path was blocked. The bridge that would lead us to another section of the mansion was cordoned off, a sign indicating it was closed for the evening.

I sighed, looking at the gap. "There's no way I can make it across that."

Knox's eyes sparkled with mischief as he looked around the empty garden. "Who says we need to walk across?"

Before I could protest, he scooped me up in his arms in one swift, effortless motion. I shrieked in response, but he shushed me with a  wink.

"Hold on," he said with a grin.

Knox jumped across the ten-foot-wide moat with a powerful leap, landing on the other side. But the ground was softer than he anticipated, and his feet sunk into the mud with a loud squelch.

The absurdity struck me, and laughter bubbled up from deep within. It was a pure, unguarded laughter I hadn't experienced in so long. 

"I guess we're even now," I said between giggles, looking at his mud-splattered shoes and pants.

Knox set me down gently, his eyes shining, making my heart flutter. "Seems so. Well, it's done now. Let's continue our adventure. My sister should be just through here and I need to find new shoes before my mother sees."

Knox guided me through another hall, each step echoing softly on the polished marble floor, leaving mudprints behind us. He stopped in front of a door and knocked gently before pushing it open.

Inside, a teen girl sat in front of a vanity, her feet propped up casually. Her hair was full of curlers, and she was engrossed in a magazine. 

"Knox! What's up? How did you know I would still be in here?" Cassy greeted without looking up, her voice lively and confident. When she finally glanced our way, her eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, what happened here?"

Knox chuckled. "Cassy, meet Skyla. Skyla, this is my sister, Cassy. And to answer your question, I knew you would still be getting ready because, as we both know, it takes you hours."

Cassy rolled her eyes playfully at Knox. "I would like to make an entrance. Thank you very much."

Her gaze shifted to me, taking in my mud-stained dress and flip-flops. "Okay, spill. What's the story here?"

Knox's expression turned serious. "Fletcher was being a complete ass, and she ended up in the mud because of him."

Cassy's expression darkened. "Does Kael know about this yet?"

"No, he's not here yet," Knox replied. "And let's keep it that way until after the ball."

Cassy nodded in agreement, then turned to Knox with a mischievous grin. "Alright, big bro, time for you to get lost. Skyla and I have some serious work to do."

Knox raised his hands in mock surrender and left the room, leaving me alone with Cassy.

Cassy scrutinized my dress, her brow wrinkling slightly. "Yeah, this isn't salvageable. But don't worry, I've got just the thing."

She disappeared into her closet and reemerged with a breathtaking long black dress. It was elegant, low-cut, and far more sophisticated than anything I had ever worn. She held out a pair of beautiful strappy black high heels along with the dress.

"Here, try these on. Trust me, you'll look stunning," she encouraged with a warm and slightly conspiratorial smile.

"C'mon, go change in the closet," Cassy urged, gesturing towards what I assumed was a small wardrobe when I didn't move. As I stepped inside, my jaw dropped. It wasn't just a closet. It was an entire two-story room, larger than the entire shack I called home. Dresses, shoes, and accessories adorned every inch, a dazzling array of fashion. A white leather couch was in the center. 

Feeling slightly dazed, I quickly slipped into the dress and shoes Cassy had chosen for me. The dress clung to me, accentuating every curve, while the heels added an elegant height. I stepped out, uncertain in the high heels but feeling transformed.

Cassy let out a whistle. "Wow, you look hot!"

A warm blush tinted my cheeks as I followed Cassy to the vanity. The room's opulence and the luxury of the dress all felt like a dream. With a grace that seemed innate to the Monroes, Cassy settled herself elegantly at the vanity and patted the seat next to her, inviting me to join.

I took the seat hesitantly, feeling out of place yet strangely welcomed nonetheless. Cassy turned to me, her expression open and curious.

"So, Skyla, tell me about yourself. Where do you come from?"

I hesitated, the reality of my world so different from the one I was currently in. "I... I live in the bayou," I said quietly.

"The bayou?" Cassy's eyes widened slightly, but there was no judgment in them, only a spark of intrigue. "That must be a whole different life from the city. What's it like?"

Her genuine interest took me by surprise. "It's... quiet. Solitary. Not many people around, just nature and the sounds of the swamp."

Cassy nodded thoughtfully, her hands idly pulling curlers from her hair. "And what about your pack? Which one do you belong to?"

I fidgeted with the hem of the luxurious dress. "I'm not really part of a pack. My family... we've always been on our own."

"That must be tough," she said softly, her eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "But it also sounds kind of liberating. No pack politics to deal with."

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess it has its moments."

Cassy's smile widened, and she turned back to the vanity, beginning to apply her makeup with practiced ease. "Well, Skyla, you're with the Monroe pack tonight. And trust me, it's going to be an evening to remember."

Every now and then, Cassy reached over to apply makeup to my face, her touch gentle and confident. It was strange how comfortable she was with me, a girl she had just met. 

"Do you know any of my brothers?" she asked casually.

I shook my head. "No, I don't. Well, besides Knox now, I guess."

Cassy grinned. "Well, after tonight, I have a feeling you'll know them all pretty well."

I felt a flutter of nerves at her words. "Why do you say that?"

"Because," she said, applying a final touch of lipstick to my lips, "I've never seen Knox smile that much around a girl. And wait until they see what's about to leave this room with me."

She spun me around to face the full-length mirror, and my breath hitched. The reflection staring back at me was almost unrecognizable. The girl in the mirror was elegant, confident – she was beautiful. For the first time, I saw myself not as the bayou girl in flip-flops, but as someone who could belong in this world of glamour and grace.

Cassy stood beside me, her eyes shining with pride. "See? I told you, you're stunning."