I had always been the pack joke. Losing my parents as a newborn had marked me an omega from the start, and the pack waited until I could understand their cruelty before they began to truly torment me. At first I would cry and run, only to be punished worse when they caught me.
Now I am eighteen and, for the first time, I might meet my mate. I didn't expect anyone to want me — who would choose the pack omega? Rejection felt inevitable, and my wolf did not hide her displeasure.
"I'll kill every single one of them once we can shift," Arrie growled in my head. She had never forgiven the pack for how they treated me, especially our Alpha. His job was to protect us; he had clearly failed me, and I had made my peace with that.
"He's supposed to keep you safe, not treat you like the others do," Arrie snarled again.
"Relax, Arrie." I pressed my palm to my temple. "After our mate rejects us, we'll leave. No more of this. I promise — I won't let anyone hurt you or us again."
Arrie huffed and settled, though I could feel her, like a warm weight beneath my ribs, restless and coiled. I finished getting ready. Every unmated wolf could attend the mating ceremony, no matter their rank; the rules at least let me be there.
I stood in front of the mirror and took a breath. The dress was pale blue, the same color as my eyes. My long light-brown hair fell in loose, wavy curls down my back. I dabbed on light makeup to cover the bruises on my face and the faint discolored lines at my neck that still whispered of past punishments. I wasn't trying to hide who I was; I just wanted, for once, to be recognized as more than a punching bag.
The walk to the packhouse took me ten, maybe fifteen minutes. The night air hummed with voices when I arrived; laughter and low conversation spilled through the front doors. Wolves clustered in little groups, some already paired off, others searching the crowd with hopeful faces.
I drifted to the beverage table and poured myself a glass of water — I preferred not to drink — and had just lifted it to my lips when a voice cut across the room.
"You actually came? Someone was brave." Railey, the Alpha's sister, leaned against a pillar like she belonged to the shadows themselves. She loved to make me small, and she knew her brother would look the other way.
"It's nice to see you too, Railey," I said, forcing a bitter smile that didn't reach my eyes.
She snorted. "You clean up nice. Who are you trying to seduce? Not that anyone would want you." Her two companions, Rose and May, laughed at the line. Rose kept silent, eyes downcast; she followed like a shadow. May — louder, crueler — had already found her mate six months ago; she strutted like she owned the room.
Arrie purred a single, vicious thought. I'm going to slit their throats. Maybe keep Rose alive. She can't do anything but watch. Her wolf is so small. The image made my fingers clench around the glass.
Before I could answer, all eyes swung toward the top of the stairs. The rumor had been true: the Lycan Prince was here. He had come, they said, to attend the ceremony and search for his mate. I never believed it — until the moment he stepped into the doorway.
A hush descended. Everyone bowed; I followed, breath catching. When I dared to look up, our eyes met. Arrie went wild inside my head.
"Mate! Take me to mate! Now!" she demanded, its urgency like a pulse behind my throat. Pain flared — a headache that made me wince — as Arrie hopped and tugged at my thoughts.
"Arrie, calm down. You're giving me a headache." I pressed my temples, forcing my wolf to quiet. When I opened my eyes again, the prince was directly in front of me. Without ceremony, he reached out and wrapped his arms around me.
Heat and relief flooded me. His touch was firm and sure; he pressed his face into the crook of my neck and breathed me in as if memorizing my scent. I melted against him, the world narrowing to the steady beat of his chest beneath my ear. Somewhere nearby someone gasped.
Railey's voice cut like glass. "You bitch! You don't deserve the prince as a mate. You're an omega!"
Every head turned toward us. The prince stiffened; a low, dangerous growl slipped from him. My stomach dropped. Rejection, I thought. He would reject me now, and the laughter would start again.