Chapter 1 - prologue

Cursed Under the Moon 🌙✨

Lia's

The air in the pack hall stank of sweat and ale, thick with the stench of Lycans who thought they owned the world.

I clutched the tray of drinks tighter, my knuckles white, weaving through the crowd of leering men. Their eyes crawled over me like I was prey, and I hated it. I hatedthem. Lycans. Every single one of them. Their growls, their smug grins, the way they looked at me like I was nothing but an omega to be toyed with—it made my blood boil.

I'd burn this whole place down if I could, but an omega's got no power here. Not in this pack. Not after what they did to my family.

I spotted an empty corner and headed for it, desperate for a moment to breathe, to escape the weight of their stares. My worn boots scuffed the wooden floor, and I was almost there when a voice sliced through the noise like a blade. Cold. Sharp. Unmistakable.

"Hey, Lia. Stop."

My body locked up, every muscle betraying me. My heart stumbled, and I cursed under my breath. An omega like me couldn't fight a Lycan's command—not when their alpha aura sank its claws into your will. I tried to move, to pretend I didn't hear, to just walk away like I never stepped into this cursed hall. But my feet wouldn't budge. It was like chains were wrapped around my soul, yanking me back.

"Turn around," the voice ordered, low and cruel.

I gritted my teeth, forcing my body to obey as I slowly pivoted. My eyes landed on him—Zara, the court warrior. Of course it was him. His grizzled face twisted into a smirk, his gray eyes glinting with something ugly. He was sprawled in his chair, surrounded by other Lycans, their mugs raised like they were watching a show. The hall buzzed with their cheers, a low rumble that made my stomach twist. Something bad was coming. I could feel it in my bones. 🌑

"What do you want?" I snapped, my voice sharper than I meant it to be. "If you've got something to say, spit it out and let me go."

Zara stood, his broad frame looming as he stepped closer. The crowd's cheers grew louder, egging him on. My heart hammered, but I held my ground, glaring up at him. He was all muscle and menace, his scent—like damp fur and iron—choking the air. Then his hand snaked around my waist, pulling me close, and my skin crawled. I wanted to shove him off, to claw his face, to make him pay for touching me. But I was just an omega, and he was a Lycan with power I couldn't fight.

I glanced to the side, desperate for an out. Dorian was there, lounging at a table, his dark hair falling over his eyes as he sipped his drink. The eldest Alpha brother. Cruel. Heartless. The one who hated omegas like me most of all. His gaze flicked over the scene, but he didn't move, didn't speak. He just watched, like I was nothing. Like my humiliation was just another night's entertainment. My chest tightened, a mix of rage and something sharper—betrayal, maybe, though I didn't know why I expected better from him. 🥀

"Don't touch me," I hissed at Zara, my voice shaking but defiant. "Lycans like you are dirty. Impure."

The words were a mistake. I knew it the second they left my mouth. Zara's smirk vanished, replaced by something darker. His hand shot up, grabbing my cheek so hard I wince. Pain stung through me, and I stared at the floor, shock freezing my thoughts. The crowd's laughter rang in my ears, and I risked another glance at Dorian. Still nothing. He was just… drinking, his eyes fixed on his mug like I didn't exist. Like he didn't care.

Zara leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "You think I'm dirty, omega?" he sneered. "Let's see if you're so clean inside. Strip."

My blood ran cold. "What?" I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

He chuckled, low and vile. "Take your clothes off. Let everyone see what you're hiding under that rag you call a dress."

The tray slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor. Glass shattered, ale splashing across my boots, but I barely noticed. My hands moved on their own, trembling as they reached for the buttons on my blouse. 

No. No. I screamed inside my head, fighting the Lycan aura pressing down on me, forcing my body to obey. I couldn't stop it. My fingers fumbled with the first button, then the second, and the crowd's cheers turned feral, their eyes hungry. 

My heart pounded so hard I thought it would burst, and I looked at Dorian again, pleading with my eyes.

 Do something. Stop this. But he just stared, his face unreadable, his silence cutting deeper than Zara's words.

Zara's aura grew heavier, like a weight crushing my chest. My hands moved to the third button, and I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. The fabric parted, exposing the edge of my collarbone, and Zara's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with sick satisfaction. 

I wanted to scream, to run, to tear his throat out—but I was trapped, my body betraying me, my omega blood no match for his power.

Then, a hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back. I stumbled, landing against a broad chest, soft but strong. A growl rumbled through the air, low and dangerous, cutting through the crowd's noise like a blade. The hall fell silent, and I heard a voice—cold, lethal, shaking with barely contained rage.

"Who dares do this?"

My eyes lifted, slow and trembling, and met his. Rick. The quiet brother. The overlooked one.

 His hazel eyes burned with something I'd never seen before—pain, anger, maybe both. He wasn't supposed to care. I almost killed him once, back when I thought I could fight my way out of this hell. I hated him, hated all of them. 

Yet here he was, his arm around me, shielding me from Zara's gaze. My heart twisted, caught between relief and distrust. Why was he helping me? What did he want? 🐾✨