ALTHEA The next morning, I wake to a soft knock at my door. I barely have time to register it before the door creaks open, and two young women step inside. They move efficiently, as if they’ve done this routine a hundred times before. One of them carries fresh towels and a tray of food, while the other sets out neatly folded clothes on a chair near the window. Their uniforms are pristine, their movements graceful, but I don’t miss the way their eyes flick toward me, filled with quiet curiosity. I sit stiffly on the edge of my bed, feeling strangely out of place in the silk nightdress I was given. The palace’s luxury still unsettles me, and somehow it still feels like this is a world I’ll never fit in. The events at the woods yesterday has only made me even more certain of that. My ankle is wrapped tightly beneath the sheets, a dull ache pulsing with each movement. My body is sore, but it’s the memories that weigh the heaviest. The bed beneath me is too soft. I feel like I’m si
ALTHEADawn arrives far too quickly, dragging me from the few restless hours of sleep I managed to steal. I blink against the faint golden light creeping through the heavy curtains, but my exhaustion lingers like a stubborn weight on my body. It takes every bit of willpower to push myself up, forcing my limbs to move, though my mind still lags behind.Before I know it, I’m in the grand hall, standing in a line with the other contestants. The room is filled with the quiet murmur of voices, but a hush settles the moment the royal family enters. They take their seats on an elevated platform, their expressions unreadable as they look down on us. The game officials flank them, standing tall and stiff in their elaborate uniforms.I keep my head high, unwilling to show weakness, but my stomach twists as the king begins to speak. His voice carries effortlessly through the hall, deep and commanding.“Today, you will not be fighting or hunting,” he announces, his gaze sweeping across us. “Inste
ALTHEAI hurry back to my room, my breath uneven. My hands clutch at the torn fabric of my dress, fingers trembling as I try to smooth the jagged edges. It’s no use. The rip is too big, running straight down the side, exposing way more skin than I’m willing to show on live broadcast.Panic squeezes my chest. I’m supposed to be on stage in minutes, answering questions, pretending I actually want to be here. And now, I look like a disaster.I swallow hard, trying to force back the tears burning behind my eyes.Not now. Not over this.I squeeze my eyes shut and take a slow breath, but then—“Elena! Be careful, or you’ll—”The door bursts open.Elena stumbles in, nearly dropping a sewing kit, her dark curls bouncing with the movement. Mira follows behind her, arms crossed, a knowing look on her face.Elena’s eyes widen when she sees me. “Althea, we saw what happened?”“It’s ruined,” I say, defeated. “And I don’t have time to fix it.”Mira hums, unimpressed. “Well, good thing we came prepa
ALTHEAI enter the breakfast hall the next morning and immediately feel the change in the air. The moment I step in, I notice the strange looks the other girls throw my way. Some are quick glances, others are longer stares, full of something I can’t quite understand. It’s not anger exactly—but it’s not friendly either.I walk slowly, feeling every step like I’m being watched, judged. My stomach twists a little. Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?Just as I start to panic, I see Elise. She’s already seated at the long table. Her eyes meet mine, and she gives me a small smile. Then she pats the empty seat beside her.Relief rushes through me, and I quickly walk over and sit next to her. “Thanks,” I whisper, giving her a grateful smile.“Of course,” she says with a shrug. “I figured you might need a friendly face today.”I look around. Most of the girls have gone back to their food, but I can still feel some eyes on me. I try to ignore it.As we start eating, Elise leans clos
ALTHEADays pass slowly after lady Ivanna’s announcement.Each morning, one of the girls gets called away by a guard with a message from Prince Asher. Every single time, she returns with stars in her eyes and a story to share.Elise was the first. “He took me to a movie,” she said, practically glowing. “An actual theater. There was popcorn and everything.”Then Isobelle, a quiet dark-haired girl, came back from a garden walk. Her lips said little, but the blush on her cheeks told everything.Caroline had a picnic by the lake. “He brought my favorite dessert,” she gushed. “How did he know?”They all returned changed. Lighter. Giddy.And I—well, I barely sleep the night before my turn.Not from excitement.From dread.Whatever Asher has planned for me, it won’t be sweet. It won’t be charming. No, I know exactly what kind of game he’s playing. And I refuse to fall for it.After breakfast, Mira and Elena come to my room, full of excitement and nerves on my behalf. Mira brushes out my hair
ALTHEA The excitement in the air is almost suffocating. Girls are twirling, giggling, whispering about the ball. A masquerade. Lady Ivanna made the announcement just after breakfast, and since then, the palace has been buzzing like a hive of bees. Everyone’s talking about dresses, masks, and which royal they hope to dance with. But I don’t share their excitement. This ball, this celebration… it’s going to come with a feast. Tables full of food we could never finish. Dozens of dishes made to impress, to dazzle. Meanwhile, commoners barely have scraps to feed their children. It makes my stomach twist. “Elena, Mira,” I say, staring at the emerald green dress they’re holding up, “I told you to keep it simple.” Mira waves a dismissive hand. “You did. We just chose to ignore you.” Elena giggles. “It would’ve been a crime to put you in anything boring.” The dress is far from simple. It has a fitted corset, silk sleeves that drape off my shoulders, and tiny silver beads that sh
ALTHEA“Go to the back of the room, ladies!” the head guard yells, his voice loud and firm. His name tag says Mark and he runs quickly toward a window.That’s when everything changes. A wave of guards rushes into the hall, their boots heavy on the floor, weapons drawn. I see more of them lining up just outside the room, and then the large doors slam shut. There’s the sound of metal scraping as the guards bolt the doors and slide thick bars across them.Everything happens so fast.Most of the other girls are confused. Some gasp. Some look around in fear. I move with them to the back of the room, just like Mark ordered. My heart is pounding.“They’re inside the halls, Your Majesty, but we’re holding them back,” Mark says. His voice is grave and tense.My stomach drops. My heart feels like it’s about to stop.No one here knows who I really am.What I really am.And if they find out—if anyone finds out—I’ll be dead before I can explain.I don’t know how I didn’t expect this. It should’ve
ALTHEAIt’s been a few days since the attack.The memory of it is still sharp—screams, the rush of feet, the cold fear sitting heavy in my chest—but the panic has faded. Mostly. Enough for us to act normal again. Or pretend to.The king didn’t even take it seriously. He called it “an unfortunate but minor disturbance.” His words exactly. He didn’t assign extra guards. No announcements. Not even a stern warning. Just brushed it aside like it was a spilled drink. Something that didn’t deserve attention.At the time, we were terrified. Some girls cried through the night. I sat up in bed, clutching the sheets, my ears tuned to every little sound. But now… now we’re calm again. Or maybe we’re just tired of being scared.To ease our families’ worries, Lady Ivanna asked all of us to write letters home. “Assure them you are safe and well,” she said with her usual calm voice. I did as asked. I told my family I was fine. That the attack wasn’t as serious as it sounded. That everything was under
ALTHEAThere are eight of us left now.Only eight.And still, I feel like I’m unraveling.I sit on the edge of my bed, fingers tangled in the thick blanket, staring at nothing. Before we were dismissed to our rooms, I and the other girls had been in the grand hall, whispering about who made it and who didn’t. Now alone, I’m somewhere else.Back in the maze.Back in front of that mirror, where my father looked up at me with eyes that weren’t his—cold, sharp, disappointed. You betrayed us. The words echo, even though he never said them aloud. Even though it was just an illusion.But it didn’t feel like a lie.What if he’s right?What if I have betrayed them—my family, my people, myself?By being here?By surviving?By letting the king turn me into one of his toys?I tell myself I don’t want the crown. I don’t want power. That I’m here to survive. To find out the truth. To stay alive long enough to make something right.But the mirror didn’t lie. It showed me things I never wanted to adm
ALTHEAThe gates creak open at dusk and all of us make our way out. We’d been woken up from our sleeps less than an hour ago, and told that the king had a new task for us. He wanted us to conquer the maze of mirrors. The maze stands before us like something torn from a nightmare—tall walls of glass and mirror, reflecting the fading light in a thousand twisting, fractured ways. The guards usher us forward with unreadable faces. The king’s voice cuts above the silence.“Make it out before dawn,” he says. “Or don’t make it out at all.”No one laughs. We all know he isn’t joking about it. And if anything, he’s proven to us that he could care less about any of us.I step through the archway last. The air inside the maze is cool and still, and every surface gleams like ice. I catch glimpses of myself in the mirrors on either side—tired eyes, tight jaw, hands clenched at my sides.The path splits into three directions. Each one looks exactly the same.I take the left.At first, it’s quiet.
ALTHEAIt’s been hours since the photoshoot ended.I’ve been pacing my room ever since, the soft rug muffling my footsteps. The dress is long gone—stuffed into the corner like it wronged me personally. My hair’s a mess, my hands won’t stop shaking, and my stomach’s been in knots the entire time.Asher didn’t come back.He left with the soldier, heading straight to wherever they were keeping the captured revolutionary. And now he’s either still with him… interrogating him. Or worse. Torturing him.Or maybe, maybe it’s already over. Maybe the interrogation happened quickly, and now they know everything. Maybe Asher already knows that I used to run messages for Aaron. That I knew about the safehouses. That I knew this attack was part of the plan. That I was one of them.Maybe they’re just waiting for the right moment to barge in. Drag me out in chains. Or worse.I sit on the edge of the bed, gripping the bedsheets tight enough that my knuckles go white. The sun outside fades slowly into
ALTHEAI give my head a tiny shake and will myself to focus.I can feel the weight of every eye on me as I take the first step forward. My hands are clammy, so I rub them against the fabric of my dress before gathering it in my fists. The silk is soft, slippery. I walk slowly, careful not to trip or step on the hem. Every step feels louder than it should.Asher’s standing where all the girls before me met him—by the center of the garden hall, right in front of the rose arch. The gold buttons on his suit catch the sun. His dark hair is slicked back, but a small strand has come loose near his temple. He doesn’t fix it. He just stands there, posture straight, unreadable expression in place.But as I approach him, his gaze lifts to mine. His eyes meet mine directly.And… I don’t know if I imagine it, but his jaw tightens. Just a little.“Gray,” he mutters when I finally sit on the bench beside him.I roll my eyes. “Don’t even start,” I warn, and cross my arms.Even though he tries to stay
ALTHEA “Who was the founding werewolf of the Silver Crescent pack?” Lady Ivanna quizzes. I freeze, eyes flicking to the ornate gold trim on the floor-length curtains. I don’t know this one. I try not to look guilty, but my shoulders tense and my gaze drops, praying she doesn’t call on me. A soft shuffle to my left. Elise’s hand shoots up, confident as ever. “Alaric Stormclaw,” she answers. Lady Ivanna nods approvingly. “Correct. Alaric Stormclaw was the first werewolf to invade these lands and fight against the humans.” We’re seated in the Great Room again. The long polished table gleams beneath the morning light that filters in from the high arched windows. Paintings of past rulers line the walls. Most of them are men with cold eyes and stiff posture. All of us girls—contestants, as the kingdom so kindly calls us—are gathered here at the start of the week for another lesson. Lady Ivanna’s lessons aren’t the worst part of being here, but they are a reminder. A reminder that
ALTHEAI don’t know what I expected when Elise told me she had a secret, but it wasn’t that.Asher kissed her.I sit there, still and stiff, trying to keep my face calm, but my stomach twists like a knot being pulled tighter and tighter.Why does it bother me so much?I shouldn’t care. I don’t care. He can kiss whoever he wants. Elise is sweet and kind. He probably sees her as someone safe. Someone who fits in this palace life.Unlike me.I force my lips into a smile and nod, pretending her words didn’t just cut through me like a blade. Before I can say anything else, a familiar voice breaks into our little corner.“What did you guys do on your date?”I blink, turning toward the voice.Sophie.She’s standing right in front of us, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised like she already knows the answer.“Hi, Sophie,” Elise says with a polite smile.“Oh hush,” Sophie snaps, waving her off without looking at her. Her sharp gaze locks onto me instead. “Come on, Althea. Spill.”“What are you tal
ALTHEAI wake up slower than usual. My eyes feel heavy, my body heavier. Every inch of me aches from yesterday—from the hunt, the fear, the cruel discovery in the garden, and the dream that refused to let me go.The memory of it still clings to my skin like frost.Asher. The white wolf.I sit up slowly, pressing my palm against my side where the black wolf bit me in the dream. There’s no wound there, but it still feels sore.I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. The entire idea of the mate games—it’s based on the legend of the white wolf. The perfect mate. The protector. The rare and destined bond. Everyone talks about it like it’s some beautiful fairytale.But I’ve been dreaming about him.And now that I know Asher is the white wolf… I have more questions than answers.Because there were two wolves in the dream.The black one—the one that always attacks. The one I always run from.If Asher is the white wolf, then who’s the other? What does it mean that they always fight? And why do
ALTHEAThe sun is higher now, casting soft gold across the palace walls, but there’s no warmth in it. I sit on the cold stone steps, my breath steady but shallow. My body hurts. My mind even more.One by one, the other girls arrive from the forest. Most of them limping, bleeding, dirty. But alive.I count them. Over and over.Only two never return.Mira and one of the betas.The ache in my chest grows heavy when I realize it’s true. They didn’t make it.Not everyone survived.Unfortunately, Caroline did.She walks in with a smug smile, a scratch on her cheek like it’s some kind of trophy. Her eyes flick to me—quick and sharp—but I look away. If I meet her stare, I might do something I regret.A guard steps forward, clearing his throat. He holds out his hand. I place the Bloodlight Flower in his palm.It’s still warm. Still glowing faintly. Still smells like copper and ash.He turns and brings it to the king, who stands watching from the edge of the courtyard.King Theron doesn’t even
ALTHEAI yank at the vines choking my legs, the flower still clutched in my fist. My heart pounds so loud I can barely hear anything else, but the forest won’t let me go. It wants me to suffer.The roots tighten. Thorns prick my skin. I scream—raw, frustrated. Then I grab my knife and hack at the vines until they loosen. My arms shake. My lungs burn.Finally, I’m free.I scramble to my feet and run again, holding the Bloodlight Flower like it’s my last breath.The forest is a nightmare. Trees twist into wrong shapes. The path keeps shifting. The whispers are louder now—screaming instead of speaking. I don’t know what’s real anymore. My thoughts feel slippery, like I can’t hold onto them for more than a second.Then I see someone up ahead.Another girl.She stumbles out from between two trees—her cloak torn, blood on her hands. It’s Maria. One of the quiet ones. The smart ones.Her eyes go wide when she sees what I’m holding.“The flower,” she says, voice hoarse. “You found it.”I take