Chapter 1
Christine's Pov
I'd been standing in the kitchen for four hours.
The stainless steel sink was piled high with remnants from last night's gathering. I dried the last porcelain plate and slid it into the cabinet.
This was a habit my mother had established while she was alive—dishes stacked by layer, everything within easy reach. A year ago, she'd still been standing in this very kitchen. She'd finished drying the last bowl, turned to me, and smiled. That smile was the warmest thing in this entire house.
Now there was nothing here at all.
My name is Christine Hayes. Twenty-one years old. Eldest daughter of Richard Hayes, Beta of Shadow Pack—one of twelve packs sworn to the Kingdom of the Silver Moon.
The Beta's eldest daughter.
That should mean something, shouldn't it?
A seat at the table, perhaps. A voice that carries weight. Maybe even a scrap of respect.
Not for me.
In the world of werewolves, your surname is only worth as much as your wolf.
I'm what they call a wolfless Omega—born with werewolf blood flowing through my veins, but no wolf spirit to prove it. No shifting, no claws, no fangs, no aura.
In the eyes of the pack, I'm a "flaw in the bloodline." A mistake that should never have appeared on the Beta family's register.
Add this red hair to the mix, and I'd earned a nickname I could never shake: Red Runt.
I'd tried dyeing it black three times. Each time, the color faded overnight, and by morning it had grown back red—stubborn and defiant, as though the color lived in my bones rather than my follicles.
My mother used to cup my face in her warm hands and say: "They don't understand, Christine. People fear what's different, so they call it a curse. But your hair is a gift from the Moon Goddess herself."
But she died a year ago.
When I emerged from the kitchen, the foyer was thick with a suffocating heaviness.
I'd meant to go upstairs and change. My shirt cuffs were soaked through from the dishwater, the wet cotton clinging to my wrists. But I'd barely reached the foot of the stairs when the voices drifted down.
"Did you see it?" My father's voice, coming from his second-floor study.
"The whole pack saw it." That was Vanessa—my stepsister, eighteen years old, golden-brown curls, a flawless wolf form, and an infuriating talent for twisting the knife while sounding concerned.
"Father, I think... we should let Christine explain."
"What's there to explain?" Richard Hayes was already coming down the stairs.
My heart stuttered.
He was gripping his phone, the blue glow of the screen casting his face in cold light, making him look like a statue lit from within. He didn't look at me. He never looked at me—not since Mom died. To him, I'd become a problem to be dealt with, not a daughter.
"Christine." His voice was flat, toneless, like someone reading an official notice. "From this moment forward, you are no longer a member of the Hayes family. Take whatever's in your belly and get out of this house."
Whatever's in my... what?
My mind buzzed. Last month's period hadn't come—yes, it hadn't—but I'd assumed it was stress. I'd been sleeping three hours a night for two straight weeks to finish my design portfolio. My cycle going haywire wasn't exactly unprecedented. It had never even crossed my mind.
But how did he know? I didn't even know—how could he know?
"Dad, my marking ceremony with Dominic is next month. How could I possibly—"
"You still have the nerve to mention the marking ceremony?" Richard's voice finally rose. "The entire Shadow Pack is laughing at us!"
He raised his hand.
Before I could brace myself, he struck me across the left cheek.
My head snapped to one side. I stumbled back two steps—and my heel caught the edge of the front porch steps. I went down hard, my back slamming against the frozen flagstones, my stomach catching the sharp edge of the bottom step with a dull, sickening thud.
Snow soaked through my shirt instantly, the wet cold biting deep into my skin. I curled onto my side, gasping, my nose already going numb.
My stomach lurched, but nothing came up. I hadn't eaten today.
I looked up at the four stone steps of Hayes Manor's front porch—the same steps I'd scrubbed clean just last week on my hands and knees with a wire brush and soap heated on the stove.
If my mother were still here, she would have been standing on those steps. She would never have let anyone push me into the snow.
This was the first winter without her, and the person standing at the top of those steps was my stepsister Vanessa.
"Christine." She leaned against the doorframe, one hand tucked in her coat pocket, the other holding up her phone with the screen facing me.
"You probably haven't seen this yet."
The top story on the Shadow Pack social feed. A blurry photo—you couldn't even make out a face—but that red hair glowed unmistakably in the dim light, bright enough to convict.
Beside it was a screenshot of a hospital report: my name, my date of birth, weeks of gestation, all neatly lined up in clinical rows. In the human world, leaking a patient's medical records is a federal crime—but under pack law, a wolfless Omega's privacy isn't worth the paper it's printed on.
The headline was in bold red text: "Christine Hayes—Promiscuous Lifestyle, Pregnant Out of Wedlock. Fiancé Alpha Dominic Cuckolded. Identity of Lover Unknown."
There were already over two hundred comments. I scanned two or three lines before looking away—
"Lmao she actually thought she could be Luna."
"Poor Dominic, honestly he dodged a bullet."
"An omega without an alpha wolf trying to marry into royalty? The audacity 💀"
My hospital records. My name. My body, my data—laid bare for the entire pack to dissect.
The realization struck like lightning. This wasn't some casual gossip leak. Someone had orchestrated this.
And my father had known before I even opened my mouth. Vanessa knew. The whole pack knew. I was the last person to learn I was pregnant.
"Father had no choice," Vanessa said, slipping her phone back into her coat pocket. "You've brought shame on the entire family."
"It was you." I lifted my head from the snow and fixed my eyes on her.
Vanessa's expression froze for just an instant.
"What are you talking about?" She tilted her head, tucking a strand of golden hair behind her ear. "Everyone saw it—you were drinking glass after glass, nobody could stop you. Who knows which man you ended up with..."
"Shut your mouth." I snarled, pushing myself to my feet. The wind whipped my red hair into a wild mess across my face. I clawed it aside with fingers so stiff they didn't feel like my own.
Vanessa stepped back and turned toward the doorway, her voice shifting back to something sweet and docile. "Father, it's so cold out here—can't we at least let Christine come inside? Let her gather her things."
"No." Richard's voice carried from within. "She leaves now. From today on, the Hayes family has nothing to do with her."
Vanessa gave me one last triumphant smile, then stepped inside and pulled the heavy oak door shut behind her.
I stood alone in the snow. My left cheek burned. My shoulder throbbed.
I fumbled my phone out of my pocket.
The screen was cracked in the lower left corner—from when I'd fallen. It took three swipes to unlock it. My fingers were too stiff, too cold; the touchscreen kept misreading them.
His contact name glowed on the screen.
"Dominic ♥"
Looking at that heart now made my pulse quicken—not from the warmth of a mate bond, but from fear.
Still, my finger pressed the call button, because he was my mate. The destined partner the Moon Goddess had given me.
In the darkest nights after Mom left, his voice had been the only thing I could hold onto. The only proof that the world hadn't forgotten me entirely.
The call connected.
"Darling?" His gentle voice came through the receiver—the same voice that had soothed my anxiety, my self-doubt, my insecurity countless times over the past few years. My tears fell instantly. I raised my sleeve and scrubbed roughly at my face, leaving a wide damp streak across the cuff.
"Dominic." My voice came out shaking. "Are you free this afternoon? Can we meet?"
"Of course. Don't worry, sweetheart." He said, "I'm already handling it. I'll be in my office all afternoon."
"You believe me? Those photos... I truly don't know what happened."
"Of course I believe you." His voice dropped low, gentle, like someone calming a frightened pup. "You know, Christine—no matter what happens, I'll stand by you. You're my mate."
"Thank you, Dominic." I choked out. Tears and snot streamed down together—an absolute mess. I was crying and laughing at the same time, probably making the stupidest face imaginable. At least no one was around to see it.
I hung up and tilted my head back, staring up at the gray, overcast sky.
Thank you, Goddess. Thank you for not giving up on me.
