[Ovelia's POV]
"Ovelia, haven't you cooked the rice yet?!" My mother's voice thundered through the small kitchen, sharp and impatient.
I am Ovelia Ashford, 20 years old, living in Timberline Village—a place where the air smells of pine and the forest's shadows seem to stretch endlessly. But the beauty of the village never reached me. Not really.
"I haven't, mother. There's no water," I replied, my heart sinking under her scornful gaze.
I was ten years old when I found out I was adopted. The people I called my parents—the mayor of Timberline Village and his wife—had taken me in not out of love but to serve as a sacrificial pawn. I was to be offered as one of the sacrificial brides to the werewolves, a fate they had spared their biological daughter, Alessia. The realization had shattered me, but over time, I learned to bury the pain deep inside where no one could see it.
"You're so stupid! You know we're about to eat!" my mother snapped, her irritation palpable. Her fingers trembled slightly as they clenched the table's edge, a thin veneer of control slipping away.
Since the day I learned the truth, their cruelty has become a constant in my life. Even Alessia's occasional kindness felt laced with a subtle distance, a carefully constructed facade. Sometimes, her eyes held a fleeting glint of something cold, a shadow that momentarily eclipsed her usual warmth.
"Ovelia, fetch water from the river," my father commanded, tossing a bucket at me with a cruel smirk.
The bruises on my body never faded. If anything, they multiplied each one, which is a testament to the life I was forced to endure.
A tool. A burden. Never a daughter.
I bent down to pick it up, my movements slow and deliberate, as if delaying the inevitable. My fingers brushed against the rough metal handle, and I could feel the weight of his expectations—heavy and unyielding.
"Father, why did you do that?!" Alessia gasped, worry etching her face as she shot him a defiant glare. But even her concern felt…calculated. Too perfect.
I managed a small smile, a silent reassurance. Her eyes softened, but the worry lingered on a carefully maintained performance. She knew the toll this life was taking, yet a part of me wondered if she genuinely cared.
•River•
The river was a ribbon of silver under the moonlight, its gentle ripples reflecting the full moon's glow. I knelt by the water's edge, filling the bucket, my mind wandering to the life I might have had if I'd been born into a family that loved me. The moon hung low in the sky, its light almost unnaturally bright, casting an ethereal glow over the forest.
Suddenly, a rustling in the grass made me freeze. My breath caught in my throat as I turned, my eyes widening in terror. A massive wolf stood before me, its silver fur shimmering in the moonlight. Its piercing eyes locked onto mine, and time seemed to stand still momentarily. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears like a drum.
Before I could react, the chilling toll of the Timberline bell shattered the silence. The wolf's ears twitched, and with a flick of its tail, it vanished into the shadows, leaving me trembling by the riverbank.
I stood there, my hands clutching the bucket, my mind racing. The bell only tolled when danger loomed, or something significant was about to happen. A cold dread settled in my stomach as I hurried back to the village, the weight of the water dragging me down. I dreaded the thought of being scolded or beaten tonight.
•Timberline Village•
As I approached Timberline Village, I noticed a strange atmosphere. Women dressed in elegant gowns, their hair meticulously styled, but their eyes betrayed their sorrow. Some wept openly, their tears glistening in the moonlight. A shiver ran down my spine, and I quickened my pace, my heart pounding.
I pushed open the door to our house, only to hear my father's harsh voice. "Why did it take you so long?" he shouted, his face red with anger.
I opened my mouth to explain and ask something, but before I could speak, my mother hurled a beautiful red long-sleeve dress at my face. It shimmered in the dim light; it was stunning. I hadn't received anything so lovely in ages, and joy flickered in my heart for a fleeting moment.
"Why did you give me this dress?" I asked my mother, my voice a mix of confusion and excitement.
My parents shot me disdainful glares. The silence was deafening, their refusal to answer clear. I felt a sinking sensation as I walked toward the bathroom to change. Passing Alessia's room, I peeked inside and saw her getting ready. I chose not to disturb her and continued on my way.
Once I was dressed, I approached my parents.
"Finally! Hurry up, the werewolves are waiting outside the village," my father said, his tone serious and insistent.
His words pierced my heart like a dagger. I gasped, the truth crashing down on me—it was the day I was to be sacrificed in marriage to a werewolf. A desperate cry clawed at my throat, a mournful lament for all the dreams I hadn't yet fulfilled. I longed to weep, but I swallowed the tears, knowing my mother's piercing disapproval loomed over me like a storm cloud, ready to strike.
In that moment, fear enveloped me. My heart raced, not just from dread of the werewolves outside but from the realization of my future—a future I had never chosen.
"Get out of here. What are you waiting for!" my mother yelled angrily.
As I was about to leave, Alessia hugged me, whispering, "Thank you, you stupid little sister." The words hung in the air, a chilling confirmation of my suspicions. As she turned to my parents, her smile was a mask of betrayal.
I didn't run. My feet carried me out of the house and down the path as if made of stone. The tears on my cheeks felt cold, the only warmth coming from the betrayal searing my heart. I didn't wipe them away; let them see the consequence of their hypocrisy.
"Starting to despise them?" a haunting voice whispered in my mind. "I can kill them for you. Just release me already."
I didn't know her and where she came from, but her presence felt like a shadow creeping into my thoughts again.
"I hate them," I whispered, my voice trembling as I clutched at my chest, trying to steady my breathing. "But please, don't kill them."
At that moment, the voice within my head stilled, fading into an uneasy silence.
Now that I'm twenty years old, the female voice has begun to hunt me. When I feel sad, angry, or any negative emotion, the voice pops into my head, always asking me to release her, as if she's trapped in my soul and body. I don't know how to release her, and I'm not planning to do it either.
As I approached the village exit, a treacherous, tiny spark of hope flickered in my chest against the overwhelming dread. What if... what if this was my escape? What if, against all odds, one of them would be kinder than the family I was leaving behind? I immediately crushed the thought. Hope was a luxury I couldn't afford.
As I stepped outside the village, the scene before me was both mesmerizing and terrifying. Rows of stunning women stood poised and elegant, their eyes wide with fear as towering men approached them. My breath caught as I realized these were the werewolves—handsome, powerful, and utterly terrifying.
My gaze fell on one man dragging a woman by the arm. She screamed, then plunged a knife into his eye. Everyone gasped, including me, especially when the man transformed, his shirt ripping as he became a werewolf. He grabbed the woman's hand and snapped her bones. A wave of panic washed over the other women, screams tearing from their throats as they fled in terror. Amidst the chaos, the men surrounding them transformed, morphing into ferocious werewolves, their growls blending with the cries of the fleeing women.
Desperate and terrified, the women ran, their footsteps pounding on the ground, frantically trying to escape their pursuit. The werewolves lunged after them, intent on capturing the terrified girls, attempting to hoist them into their carriages amid the madness.
But not all of the werewolves gave in to primal instincts. Some lingered in their human form, projecting an unsettling politeness as they approached the remaining women. Their soft voices were almost soothing amidst the chaos, each word laced with an eerie kindness as they offered a hand to help the women into their carriages.
I didn't know what to do. I wanted to run, scream, and cry, but I couldn't do any of it. I had escaped the cruelty of my non-biological parents, but could I even survive if I was forced to marry a werewolf?
[Ace's POV]
The air was thick with the scent of human fear and the sound of their cries. It was a grotesque spectacle, one that turned my stomach. This so-called "peace sacrifice" was a barbaric tradition, a pageant of power that allowed the worst among us to indulge their cruelty.
"Ace, this sacrifice only happens once every twenty years," my older brother Ray reminded me, his voice a grating echo of our father's dogma. "This is your second time. You need to choose your mate and your Luna."
I clenched my jaw, the weight of the crown I never wanted pressing down. My father had been clear: to secure my position as heir, I had to play my part in this farce. I had to choose a human mate, a symbol of an alliance I found repulsive. It was the ultimate hypocrisy—the half-breed prince securing his throne with a human sacrifice. The irony was bitter on my tongue. I had a girlfriend, Eliana, a werewolf who saw the man, not just the prince. And now I was here, expected to betray her and myself for politics.
As I scanned the crowd of trembling women, a sudden, sweet scent cut through the miasma of fear. It was the same fragrance I had caught near the river—unique, floral, and utterly divine. My wolf, usually as resistant to this ritual as I was, stirred with a sudden, possessive interest. My eyes found her instantly: a vision in a red dress, her blonde hair a silken cascade, her red eyes wide with a fear that couldn't quite mask a spark of defiant curiosity.
Against my will, my feet carried me to her. I gently grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to mine. My wolf surged forward, a single, undeniable word echoing in my mind: Mate.
"I'll make you my mate," I uttered softly, the words a betrayal of my every intention.
Damn it! I scolded myself, my heart hammering against my ribs. This was the one thing I swore wouldn't happen. I was supposed to reject my true mate, to prove I was above this primitive bond. Yet here she was, igniting a protective, possessive urge in my wolf that my human mind struggled to suppress.