Mated to Rival Kings

　　Raven's POV

　　I was currently trimming the flowers and overgrown plants in my assigned portion of the pack's garden, a job that felt like it would never end.

　　I stopped for a moment, letting the heavy metal shears hang by my side. I used the back of my hand to wipe my forehead, but it didn't do much good. I felt gross, tired, and hungry, but in the Inker Pack, Omegas didn't get to complain until the job was done.

　　"Raven!"

　　The loud shout came from right behind me. I jumped, nearly dropping the shears on my toes, and turned around frightfully. My heart was thumping hard against my ribs.

　　Oh goddess.

　　It was Miss Freya.

　　She was the person in charge of all the household responsibilities, which basically meant she was the boss of everyone who didn't have a high rank. She was standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, giving me a terribly disapproving glare.

　　"Why aren't you doing what you are supposed to do?" she asked with a deep scowl.

　　I stared at her for a second, trying to find my voice. Was she serious? I had been hard at work for hours, my back aching and my hands blistering, right up until she showed up like an evil witch.

　　But I quickly picked up the shears again, the heavy metal feeling like lead in my hands. I would hate to be excluded from dinner tonight because she reported me for slacking off. Missing a meal was common punishment for people like me.

　　"I am working hard, Miss Freya," I replied. I forced myself to smile sweetly at her, even though I was screaming on the inside.

　　"You better be," she grumbled. She didn't look convinced. She stood there for another minute, watching me snip at a stray branch, before finally stalking off toward the main pack house.

　　I sighed in relief, my shoulders finally dropping. At least she didn't shout half as much as her usual routine. Miss Freya was the type of person whose eyes were everywhere, always watching the domestic workers and waiting for us to make a mistake.

　　I wasn't a servant by any means but being an Omega meant that the least desirable responsibilities were passed onto me. I didn't have a choice but to do them. I had no family or support here at the Inker Pack to protect me.

　　I was found abandoned as a baby in one of the human towns nearby. When the humans realized I was a werewolf, they didn't know what to do with me, so they brought me here.

　　I was cared for by the pack nannies until I outgrew the nursery. Once I was old enough to walk and talk, I had to start pulling my own weight. It also didn't help that I was a late bloomer. I only shifted for the first time three years ago, when I was eighteen. That was the day I officially presented as an Omega.

　　I sighed again, looking at the piles of leaves at my feet. I decided to finish up here fast. I knew I still had a mountain of laundry and floor-scrubbing waiting for me inside the pack house.

　　I looked over and spotted Diane working a few yards away. She was another Omega and probably the only person in this pack I could call a real friend. She was gesturing toward me, waving her hand for me to come over.

　　I held up a finger, signaling for her to hold on for just a minute. I attacked the last few weeds with a burst of energy, gathered them into a pile, and then walked over to her, breathing heavily.

　　Diane had also just finished her section. We both collapsed onto a small patch of grass that was actually in the shade. It felt like heaven.

　　"Look at how hard you are breathing," Diane said, leaning back on her elbows and eyeing me. "You have done this practically all your life, Raven. You should be used to hard labor by now."

　　I wiped my face with the hem of my shirt, not caring how unladylike it looked. "Nah. Labor is something I could never get used to. It doesn't get any easier. And I mean, have you seen me?" I raised an eyebrow at her, gesturing to my thin frame.

　　Diane laughed and poked at my upper arm in jest. "Yeah, you're right. No muscles here. It's a miracle you've survived this long in a place like this."

　　It was true. Being a runt in a werewolf pack is a bad place to be. The chances of survival are usually low so only the Moon Goddess knows why I've made it to twenty-one without getting kicked out or worse.

　　Diane's expression suddenly changed. She leaned in closer, her eyes darting around to make sure Miss Freya wasn't lurking nearby. She looked like she had a juicy secret.

　　"Did you hear about the Peace Summit that's coming up?" she whispered conspiratorially. "I heard the women in the kitchen talking about it this morning. They said it's in three weeks."

　　"The Peace Summit?" I asked, feeling a bit confused. Then, the gears in my head started turning until it clicked.

　　The Peace Summit was a big deal. It was a meeting between the North and South where both Kings came together on neutral lands to rekindle friendly relations. This meeting happens once every seventy years which makes it so easy to forget since most people only experience it once in their entire lifetime.

　　I nodded toward Diane. "Yes, I know what it is. I just didn't realize it was that close."

　　"I really hope I'm one of the ones chosen to go and serve at the meeting," Diane gushed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I want to see something other than these walls. I want to broaden my horizons. And who knows? Maybe my mate will be there. Imagine he is a high-ranking wolf from another territory."

　　I rolled my eyes at her. "You're such a romantic, Diane. All the best with that hope."

　　I didn't share her excitement. To me, the Summit just sounded like more work, that is, more tables to clear and more floors to polish, just for people who were even more powerful and mean than our own Alpha.

　　Suddenly, there was a flurry of activity. People were scrambling, dropping their tools, and trying to look proper. I saw other workers smoothing their hair and Omegas bowing their heads. Diane and I looked at each other, confused, before standing up and smoothing out our dirty skirts.

　　I could hear some other girls whispering in a group behind me.

　　"He's back! The Alpha's son is finally back!" one of them squealed.

　　Gary. That was the Alpha's son. He had left the pack four years ago to go study and travel. He was finally home.

　　"Good for him," I thought bitterly. It must be nice to have the world handed to you on a silver platter. Gary got to go to the best schools and see the world, while we were stuck here being taught by mediocre teachers. Honestly, I had spent so much time hiding in the pack library that I probably knew more than the people who were supposed to be teaching me. They had almost nothing left to show me, yet I was the one pulling weeds while Gary was the one with the degree.

　　I expected to continue to feel nothing but annoyance, but then something strange happened.

　　My wolf, Eva, had been silent all morning, probably napping in the back of my mind to avoid the heat. But suddenly, she roused. She perked up to total attention, her ears forward and her paws pacing.

　　I looked around worriedly, wondering what had startled her. Was there a threat? Was someone about to snap at us? I didn't have to wonder for long.

　　In my next breath, a scent hit me.

　　Grapes and olives.

　　It was a weird combination, a smell I had never paid much attention to in the past. But right now? It smelled like the most heavenly thing I had ever encountered. It was sweet, earthy, and rich. I never knew grapes could smell so intoxicating. My head felt a little light and my heart began to race uncontrollably.

　　I scouted the area, my eyes searching for the source of that scent. And then I saw him.

　　A man was walking across the pack grounds, surrounded by the Alpha's inner circle. He was taller than I remembered, broader, and he moved with a confidence that made everyone else look small. He was walking toward the pack house like a dream, the sun catching the gold in his hair.

　　Eva growled one single word in my head: Mate.