Clementine:
"Catch this she-wolf and bring her to Alpha William!"
The royal beta's voice roared through the air like thunder. My body shuddered at the realization of how close they had come to me. The ground beneath me seemed to pull me down as my knees began to give out.
I had been running for an hour, away from my worries, away from my bullies, from my stepmother and stepsister, and from my alpha father. If I don't, I will face a difficult time. I ran as fast as I could, my face wet with tears. The wind hit my skin like cold water, sharp and real. Ahead of me, the mountains stood tall in the distance, dark shapes under the heavy sky. The birds flew away in flocks, like they knew something bad was coming. My heart pounded. I didn't know where I was going. I just knew I had to keep moving.
"Ugh!" A painful cry escaped my lips when an arrow laced with wolfsbane grazed my thigh, and something wet began to drip down my baggy jeans. The amount of blood I shed didn't bother me as long as I got away from this hell hole called Crimson Claws Pack.
'Come on, wolf. We have to get out of here,' I tried hyping up my wolf, but it was useless as the poison had started its effect on my wolf. Another arrow struck me in the shoulder from behind, sticking out the front, and I dropped to my knees.
Just then, it happened.
My wolf went silent. The poison called wolfsbane knocked her out, and now it was just the human me, fighting the pack.
I crawled on my knees, grunting in pain. My father's warriors slowed down, they knew I was done for. The sirens blared in the air, making me lift my head and groan softly at the future ahead of me. I wished I had gotten away in time.
"You thought you could run away? What kind of coward would do that?" Beta Ross knelt beside me and grabbed my hair in his fist, pulling me up from the ground.
"I will not sacrifice myself for you—or for any werewolf," I hissed, spitting in his face. That made him angry.
He had earned the royal beta title after kissing my father's butt for a while. He would flatter my father until he was gifted the title of royal beta. I bet he even let my father sleep with his mate once or twice.
I hated the alphas and betas. I hated packs.
But I couldn't go rogue, I had only two options: either stay in the pack and be part of their dirty drama or to be sacrificed as a warrior, a crusader to the north.
"Take her to her father. He's waiting," the royal beta threw me to the ground, and soon I was dragged by my hair back to the packhouse.
They dragged me through the hallway, the omegas and deltas catching glimpses of me from their rooms. The first floor was for omegas and deltas, the second for the royal gamma, gammas, and betas. Lastly, the third floor was for the alpha—his family and the royal beta's family.
So they had to pull me all the way to the top while everyone else watched me treated like a slave.
"Ugh," I grunted when they threw me onto the couch.
"It's a shame. You ruined my name when you ran away like a coward," my father said, sitting on his high chair, a wine glass in his hand. His white hair were perfectly styled to the side, his face although a little wrinkly but still looked better for a man who had fought in wars throughout his life. His gray eyes were examining me a little too harshly.
"Call me whatever you want. I'm not your warrior," I hissed, rolling my eyes as the warrior grabbed the arrow from my shoulder and pulled it out. Blood splattered everywhere, and my screams echoed through the big hall.
My stepmother snickered, "Look at her. She looks like a boy in those clothes. Why must she dress so tomboyish?" She always had a problem with how I dressed and acted.
I identified as a woman, but I liked wearing clothes that were loose and big on me. I did not want any alpha or any werewolf's attention.
"And she always wears that hat to cover her noodle hair," my stepsister added, sticking a finger in her mouth to fake a gag at my naturally curly red hair. She was always proper and polished.
Leysa, the daughter of my father from his second fated mate, my stepmother.
Sadly, the world was messed up.
Every alpha had four or more fated mates. And every poor mate suffered, fighting for their alpha's attention. In fact, most males had multiple mates.
She-wolves had no real power. They were controlled and had no say. They would compete until only one was left standing., and that meant killing off the other mates. Killing an alpha's child was forbidden, so they found other ways to get rid of them and secure the crown for their own.
In my case, Glinda, my stepmother, had the perfect plan, all backed by the royal beta and royal gamma.
"I say we send her to the academy as a Crusader for North. Our pack has already been nominated to send a warrior anyway. Every pack is sending their children, the ones without brains to lead as alphas, just muscle," Glinda suggested, resting her hand on the back of my father's.
"She's clearly not fit to be an alpha. Look at her. Look at how she acts, she's a boy. But Leysa? She's ready to be Luna. Every alpha wants to marry her, while Clementine is just a problem we can hand off to the academy to make ourselves look better," she kept yapping, afraid my father might change his mind.
"I would rather die than fight for any of you in the North," I spat on the ground, watching Leysa flinch like I had dropped a bomb.
North.
Another disaster.
It started with one pack in the North, attacked by giants and ogres. Then they took over the entire region. After them came other creatures. People feared that if they weren't stopped, the monsters would take over the world.
So, every few months, the children of alphas or pack members with potential, specifically the ones who wouldn't inherit the crown, were sent to the academy. There, they were put into groups and sent off to fight in the North.
This time, it was our pack's turn. The previous troupe mist have retired or died for them to look for replacements.
"Your stepmother is right. Your life has no purpose. Nobody wants you. It's better for you to die a hero than stay here and become the whore you seem destined to be," my father said coldly.
Leysa laughed before covering her mouth with her hands, pretending to be sweet and proper again.
"Well, you'll have to drag me to that academy then, Father," I said, getting up, drenched in my own blood, and limped back to my room in the attic.
It had always been clear, my stepmother would never let me become the alpha. So she treated me like trash. And in return, I grew up stubborn, angry, and defiant.
Nobody knew how broken I was. They just knew I was insufferable, and hated me for it.
That night, I cleaned my own wounds and bandaged myself, lying on the hard mattress that was torn and falling apart.
I stared out the window at the moon and noticed the red color bleeding into the sky. Every time the creatures killed civilians in the North, or whoever was still hiding and alive, the sky turned red.
I wasn't a hero. I didn't want to be one.
Nobody had become a hero when I needed one, so why would I waste my life for anyone else?
I just wanted to enjoy my life, not become an alpha, or someone's fifth or sixth wife or mate.
As my eyes grew heavy and I started to drift off, I heard a click at the door. I felt someone step inside. Without opening my eyes, I reached under my pillow to grab my knife, but they were faster.
Before I could grab it, they grabbed me.
I opened my eyes to see men in black, long coats, faces covered in ski masks, holding my arms and legs.
"Let me go!" I screamed, kicking and swinging my fists, but they were strong, and clearly sent to take me away.
"What the fuck!" I yelled, panicking. How had kidnappers gotten past so many warriors, gammas, and betas to find me?
Fear crawled into me. Who were these men? What did they want?
But the real shock came when they dragged me all the way down to the first floor, and I saw everyone just standing there, watching me struggle.
"What are you waiting for? Help me! I'm your alpha's daughter. Fucking stop them!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face until I saw my father standing with my stepmother, both holding wine glasses.
"You said we'd have to drag you," he said calmly. "Well, happy eighteenth birthday. I'd hope you come back a martyr— or not at all."
Those words from my father's mouth would haunt me forever.
It wasn't kidnappers.
It was the Lurkers, the guardians, from the academy–-taking me by force.