LYRA
Alpha? I should have known. A man with an aura this strong could only be an Alpha. It explains everything: the way his presence fills the room, those cold, unkind blue eyes, and the perpetual frown etched on his face like he is allergic to smiling. Cruel werewolves. How can Alpha Lucian just offer me to another like I’m some trinket to be passed around? All because of one small mistake? I know I’m doomed. Even if this new Alpha helped me earlier, he is still one of them, a wolf through and through. Looking at him, he seems to be around the same age as Nathan or slightly older. Men within their age and rank are all douchebags. “I accept your offer,” the man says. His deep voice is calm but decisive. Cheers erupt in the banquet hall like he just declared world peace. Meanwhile, I’m frozen on the floor, trembling like a leaf in the wind. “That settles it!” Alpha Lucian booms, raising his glass in a grand toast. The crowd follows suit, lifting their glasses high, their voices full of merriment. My so-called new master walks away to sit beside Alpha Lucian, completely unfazed by everything. “Take her away and prepare her for her new master,” Alpha Lucian commands. His voice is sharp and final. “Put her in his bedroom after she is cleaned up and dressed. She is his to do as he pleases. Now, bring back the music!” And just like that, my fate is sealed. I’ve been tossed from one ruthless Alpha into the hands of another without a second thought. The music resumes, and the merriment continues as if my life hasn’t just been flipped. Two omegas approach me, looking cold and indifferent. They each grab one of my arms, pulling me up from my kneeling position. My legs are so weak they might as well be jelly, and I stumble, but they don’t care. They drag me out of the banquet hall. The hall’s lively chatter fades as we move down the corridor, and they lead me to my tiny, dingy room before shoving me inside. I stagger forward, catching myself against the wall. They don’t bother saying a word, they don’t need to. I already know what is expected of me. The omegas stand by the door with their gazes fixed on me like hawks watching prey. Slowly, I undress. My body is filled with marks from their cruelty, but I doubt they care. I step into the bathroom and let the water wash over me, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. This only shows I mean nothing to these people. To them, I’m not a person. I’m a possession, a thing they can trade or discard whenever they please. If not, they wouldn’t have stolen me from my home when I was just six. Once I’m clean, I wrap myself in my threadbare towel and step back into the room. The omegas are waiting, holding a fruity-scented pomade, a flimsy piece of fabric that barely qualifies as clothing, and a small collection of makeup. Without a word, they grab me and push me into the chair by the small table in the corner. For the first time in twelve years, werewolves are tending to my body, but it doesn’t feel like kindness. The omegas brush through my dark, wavy curls, working out the tangles with little regard for how much it hurts. I sit perfectly still, my face blank, refusing to flinch. After smoothing my hair with cream and styling it neatly, they rub the sweet-smelling pomade into my skin, leaving me glowing and fragrant. Then, they did the makeup. Finally, they dress me in the skimpy fabric, which feels more like wrapping paper than clothing. When they are finished, they step back and survey their work. I don’t look like myself anymore. I look like the perfect little prize they have made me into. Minutes later, they are leading me down the hallway again, this time to the grand bedroom I had cleaned earlier. They push me inside without a word, shutting the door behind me. I stand in the middle of the room, staring at the pristine sheets and ornate furniture, my heart hammering in my chest. I know what is going to happen when he comes in. Werewolves have an insatiable thirst for sex. It almost seems like it fuels them. They also do not see nakedness as sacred, the way humans do. They have sex whenever and wherever they feel like it. I know he will expect me to warm his bed tonight. That’s what Alpha Lucian meant when he said I’m his to do with as he pleases. But I have no intention of letting them have easy access to my body. I’m not delusional enough to dream of some fairytale romance or magical connection with these werewolves. But I’m also not ready for their brutality, especially not when it comes to my very human, very delicate reproductive organs. My eyes dart around the room, and I grab the first thing within reach, a flower vase. It’s not the most intimidating weapon, but it’s what I have. If tonight is a battle, then I’m going to fight for my fate. I won’t let him touch me without a fight. I know my chances of survival outside this pack are slim, but I am a fighter, and I will fight until I get my freedom. Soon, I hear heavy footsteps approaching the room. I know the footsteps belong to none other than the Alpha who is now my new master. I wait behind the closed door with bated breath, my hands raised, clutching the vase tightly. The footsteps stop just outside the room. The door creaks open. Without hesitation, I leap forward, swinging the vase with all the strength I can muster. I aim for his head, hoping to knock him out cold so I can make a break for it. But who am I kidding? Werewolves are ridiculously fast. The Alpha ducks immediately, making me topple forward. With the flower vase still in my hand, I do not waste time swinging again. This time, the vase flies out of my hand and crashes on the wall behind me. Before I can process what’s happening, my feet leave the ground, and I'm lifted into the air, the next thing I know, I’m sprawled on the ridiculously fluffy bed I had cleaned earlier, with him on top of me, his strong hands pinning my wrists on either side of my head. Great. So much for fighting for my fate. His hands are not the only things pinning me in place. His piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, freezing me in place. Those eyes aren’t just looking at me, they are looking through me, peeling back every layer of my defiance. I want to look away, but I can’t. Even though I know it is useless, I try to wriggle. Then, I feel his Alpha aura emanating from him, stealing every ounce of resistance I have left. My body betrays me, going limp under his power. But just as quickly as the oppressive aura surrounds me, it disappears, like it was never there. To my utter shock, he eases off me, his hands releasing mine. He climbs off the bed and steps away. “Behave yourself, little girl,” he says. His voice is deep but calm, with an edge of authority that makes my stomach twist. “Stop fighting me. I have no intention of harming you.”LYRA I blink as my new Alpha moves across the room with a calmness that feels out of place in this situation. He peels off the jacket I soaked with drinks earlier. Then he sits on the couch, crossing his long legs with the kind of casualness that makes me feel like I’m in a room with a predator who is not in a hurry to pounce. Realizing I’m still sprawled on his ridiculously soft bed, I scramble down, my feet barely steady on the plush carpet. Sure, the bed feels like a slice of heaven, but I know better than to overstay my welcome on something that doesn’t belong to me. I make the mistake of glancing up, and there it is again; his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes are locked onto me, unblinking and unreadable. My stomach twists in ways I’ve never felt before, not even during my most humiliating bouts of diarrhea. Quickly, I drop my gaze to the floor. Safer there. But even as I stare at my toes, I can’t ignore the oddity of his gaze. It’s not filled with the raw, unfiltered lust
LYRA It’s my eighteenth birthday today, and I can hear the merriment from the banquet hall. Werewolves are laughing, chatting, and probably shoving their faces full of food. It’s a festive night for them, and everyone seems to be in high spirits, everyone except for me. And their celebration has nothing to do with my birthday. No one cares about my birthday. I only keep track of the years because I like to know how long I’ve been stuck in this miserable cycle. A weak human slave like me isn’t allowed to be merry or join in any festivities. I only have one job: work, work, and then work some more. That is the only thing I’m good for in this werewolf territory. I wipe the plates clean and stack them on the rack to be taken to the banquet hall. Tonight, Alpha Lucian is hosting a party for one of the neighboring alphas visiting Shadowmoon Pack. Thinking about it almost makes me scoff. Werewolves love parties so much. But I can’t even blame them. They are always at war, so I guess th
LYRA My breath catches in my throat when I’m met with a pair of cold, dead-blue eyes. They’re piercing and like shards of ice boring into my soul. Standing at the entrance is a man I’ve never seen before. His imposing frame blocks the doorway. There is a deep frown etched between his brows, the kind that could silence a room without a single word. “Goddess!” Mrs. Carol screeches from beside him.“Don’t tell me you haven’t cleaned this room yet, Lyra?” Mrs. Carol is fuming at me. But before she can go any further, the man intervenes. “I’ll handle it from here,” he tells Carol. “You can leave.” His voice feels like a dozen echoes bouncing in my chest.Mrs. Carol’s mouth opens as if she wants to argue, but one look at him, and she shuts it again. With a final glare in my direction, she scurries away, leaving me alone with the intimidating stranger.I quickly lower my eyes to the floor out of fear. I am too tense to think straight. I have not seen this man in Shadowmoon bef
LYRA I blink as my new Alpha moves across the room with a calmness that feels out of place in this situation. He peels off the jacket I soaked with drinks earlier. Then he sits on the couch, crossing his long legs with the kind of casualness that makes me feel like I’m in a room with a predator who is not in a hurry to pounce. Realizing I’m still sprawled on his ridiculously soft bed, I scramble down, my feet barely steady on the plush carpet. Sure, the bed feels like a slice of heaven, but I know better than to overstay my welcome on something that doesn’t belong to me. I make the mistake of glancing up, and there it is again; his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes are locked onto me, unblinking and unreadable. My stomach twists in ways I’ve never felt before, not even during my most humiliating bouts of diarrhea. Quickly, I drop my gaze to the floor. Safer there. But even as I stare at my toes, I can’t ignore the oddity of his gaze. It’s not filled with the raw, unfiltered lust
LYRA Alpha? I should have known. A man with an aura this strong could only be an Alpha. It explains everything: the way his presence fills the room, those cold, unkind blue eyes, and the perpetual frown etched on his face like he is allergic to smiling. Cruel werewolves. How can Alpha Lucian just offer me to another like I’m some trinket to be passed around? All because of one small mistake? I know I’m doomed. Even if this new Alpha helped me earlier, he is still one of them, a wolf through and through. Looking at him, he seems to be around the same age as Nathan or slightly older. Men within their age and rank are all douchebags. “I accept your offer,” the man says. His deep voice is calm but decisive. Cheers erupt in the banquet hall like he just declared world peace. Meanwhile, I’m frozen on the floor, trembling like a leaf in the wind. “That settles it!” Alpha Lucian booms, raising his glass in a grand toast. The crowd follows suit, lifting their glasses high, their voices
LYRA My breath catches in my throat when I’m met with a pair of cold, dead-blue eyes. They’re piercing and like shards of ice boring into my soul. Standing at the entrance is a man I’ve never seen before. His imposing frame blocks the doorway. There is a deep frown etched between his brows, the kind that could silence a room without a single word. “Goddess!” Mrs. Carol screeches from beside him.“Don’t tell me you haven’t cleaned this room yet, Lyra?” Mrs. Carol is fuming at me. But before she can go any further, the man intervenes. “I’ll handle it from here,” he tells Carol. “You can leave.” His voice feels like a dozen echoes bouncing in my chest.Mrs. Carol’s mouth opens as if she wants to argue, but one look at him, and she shuts it again. With a final glare in my direction, she scurries away, leaving me alone with the intimidating stranger.I quickly lower my eyes to the floor out of fear. I am too tense to think straight. I have not seen this man in Shadowmoon bef
LYRA It’s my eighteenth birthday today, and I can hear the merriment from the banquet hall. Werewolves are laughing, chatting, and probably shoving their faces full of food. It’s a festive night for them, and everyone seems to be in high spirits, everyone except for me. And their celebration has nothing to do with my birthday. No one cares about my birthday. I only keep track of the years because I like to know how long I’ve been stuck in this miserable cycle. A weak human slave like me isn’t allowed to be merry or join in any festivities. I only have one job: work, work, and then work some more. That is the only thing I’m good for in this werewolf territory. I wipe the plates clean and stack them on the rack to be taken to the banquet hall. Tonight, Alpha Lucian is hosting a party for one of the neighboring alphas visiting Shadowmoon Pack. Thinking about it almost makes me scoff. Werewolves love parties so much. But I can’t even blame them. They are always at war, so I guess th