Mated to the Father, Claimed by His Son.

A wise man once said if you prayed too hard, the prayers come true.

I think that man lied. Or maybe the goddess has never been in the mood to hear my prayers.

I moved quickly, my arms full of clean linens. I kept my head down and my steps deliberate, praying to the goddess to let me pass unnoticed.

But prayers, I had learned, were often ignored.

I didn’t see the leg until it was too late. It shot out from the cluster of lounging figures, tangling with my stride. My foot caught, and the ground rushed up to meet me. The linens spilled, tumbling into the dirt.

Laughter erupted around me, sharp and mocking. I didn’t need to look to know who it was. The pack’s favored sons—the Alpha’s chosen—and their entourage had been waiting for something to break the monotony of their training. I had given them exactly what they wanted.

“Oops,” Brian drawled, his voice slow and cruel. “Didn’t see you there, Hulk.”

I kept my head down, my fingers scrambling to gather the sullied linens. I tried to make myself small, though my tall frame and broad shoulders made the effort futile. I focused on the task, on my hands, on the dirt under my nails, on anything but the figures looming over me.

But my mistake came when I glanced up through my lashes. My eyes locked, however briefly, with Brian’s. His smirk twisted into something uglier.

“You glaring at me, freak?” His voice was sharp now, cutting through the laughter.

I shook my head quickly, trying to defuse the moment. My heart pounded in my chest. I wanted to scream, to tell him, "No, I didn’t mean to", but the words were locked in my throat. They always were.

Brian didn’t wait for an explanation. He stepped forward and drove his boot into my midriff, sending me sprawling back onto the dirt.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just glare at me?” Brian crouched, yanking me up by my hair.

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head desperately. *No, no, no. I didn’t. Please don’t." But it didn’t matter. My silence only seemed to anger him further.

“Answer me, you mute freak!” he spat, shaking her.

I clutched at his hands, trying to lessen the sting. But the world stilled when another voice cut through.

“That’s enough.”

Rio’s tone was calm, but the authority in it was undeniable. The future Alpha wasn’t someone even Brian dared to cross.

Brian hesitated, his hand loosening in her hair. “She was glaring, Rio. Thought I’d teach her some respect.”

Rio’s steps were measured as he approached, the gravel crunching under his boots. His gaze moved over me, assessing me, then landed on Brian. “Respect’s my job to teach, not yours.”

I stayed silent, my breath caught in my chest.

“On your feet, Sia,” Rio said, his tone clipped.

I tried to obey, but my body was slow to respond, the ache in her midsection making it difficult.

“Up, you dumb bitch! Didn’t you hear your Alpha?”

Jenny’s voice rang out, sharp and high. I didn’t need to look to know the venom in my younger sister’s eyes. Jenny, always perfect, always cruel, never missed an opportunity to put me down.

Rough hands yanked me upright, and I stumbled, the linens spilling from my arms again. I barely had a moment to steady myself before Jenny’s voice struck me again.

“You just disrespected your Alpha,” Jenny snapped. Her small frame was coiled with smugness, and her lips curled as she delivered the blow. “How do you respond?”

I swallowed hard, my gaze fixed on the ground. I wanted to scream, to shout that I couldn’t respond. I was mute. But Jenny knew that. She knew it and delighted in the cruelty of asking anyway.

When I didn’t answer, Jenny’s foot slammed into the back of my knee, making me drop again.

“Pathetic,” Jenny sneered. “You’ll never learn.”

“Stop it Jen, I don't want you to hurt yourself,” Rio said, though there was no kindness in his tone. He sighed as though I was an inconvenience, dragging Jenny into a casual side hug. “You’re lucky you’re her sister, or I’d have you flogged for disrespect.”

“Please, babe,” Jenny said, leaning into him with a pout. “Stop associating me with her. I still don’t know why Dad decided to keep her. They should’ve left her in that hospital when they realized their real daughter was gone.”

I flinched, the words cutting deeper than any kick.

“She’s a waste of space,” Jonah added, his tone dripping with contempt. “No one’s ever going to want her. Imagine being mated to that.”

Brian snorted. “Bet her mate’ll reject her on sight. Hell, he might just die of disappointment.”

The laughter rose again, filling the yard and following me as Rio finally dismissed me. I didn’t wait for him to change his mind.

I gathered what was left of the linens and fled, my steps quick and uneven. The sting of humiliation burned hot on my cheeks as I made my way to the house. I kept my head down, avoiding the pitying—or worse, amused—looks of the other pack members I passed.

All the way to the patio, I could here their laughter, nipping at my heels like a persistent dog. It didn’t stop even after I crossed the threshold of the house.

My chest ached, but not just from Brian’s kicks. They were happy, even if they were cruel. Together, in a way I’d never known. A pack of bullies, sure, but a pack nonetheless. Friends, mates, lovers. Everything I lacked.

I paused, glancing back through the door. Jenny leaned into Rio, her laugh fake and tinkling, but he didn’t seem to mind. Brian slapped Jonah’s back, their laughter roaring. They looked invincible. They looked whole.

I wanted that once.

I swallowed hard and turned away, stepping inside. The air was cooler, quieter, but the emptiness pressed heavier than ever. Dreams were dangerous things. They curled inside you, whispering about possibilities, teasing with hope. I had stopped listening to them years ago. Or so I told myself.

Tomorrow, I would turn eighteen. That should mean something. It should mean freedom. A wolf. Maybe even a mate. A family to replace the one that barely tolerated me. But I knew better than to dream of kindness from the goddess. If she had any pity for me, she’d have started with a voice.

I tightened my grip on the dirty linens, my knuckles white. I didn’t hear the door open behind me until it was too late.

“Good evening, Luna,” Mel’s voice chirped, high and sweet in a way that grated on my nerves.

My head jerked up. There she was, my mother. Not by blood, not by bond—just by the technicality of raising me. She stood a step behind the Luna, her hands clasped in perfect deference.

“Ah, and here’s your helper now!” the Luna said brightly, her gaze sweeping over me. I bowed quickly, stepping aside, my head down.

“She’s done well,” the Luna praised. “You’ve disciplined her perfectly. A real credit to the house, Mel.”

Mel smiled tightly, like a leash yanked short. I couldn’t tell if it was pride or strain that hardened her face.

I stayed silent, bowing deeper, waiting for them to pass. The Luna’s perfume was thick and floral, cloying enough to make my nose itch. When the door clicked shut behind them, I bolted for the laundry room.

The cool air of the laundry room was a relief, the steady hum of the machines a strange comfort. I shoved the dirty linens into a bin and grabbed fresh ones. My body moved automatically, my hands finding the fabric and smoothing it into neat piles without thought.

Jenny’s room first. Always Jenny’s room first.

Her scent hit me before I even entered. Sweet, sugary, and overwhelming, like a candy shop stuffed with too much stock. Her room was a shrine to herself—pink and gold and obnoxiously perfect. I stripped her bed quickly, my hands working faster than my mind, but a thought lingered.

Tomorrow, it could all change.

Turning eighteen meant something. Anything. I didn’t let myself think about that for long. Disappointment had teeth, and I was tired of being bitten.

I secured the final corner of the fresh sheet when Mel’s voice broke the silence sharply like a knife.

"What do you believe you are doing?"

I froze, my heart lurching. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her face set in the expression she reserved for me.

“I saw you,” she said, her words clipped. “Glaring at Jenny earlier.”

My head shook automatically. No. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.

Mel stepped closer, her shadow stretching across the room. “What have I told you about eye contact?”

I dropped my gaze, staring at the neatly made bed.

“You never learn.” Her voice softened, but not with kindness. “You’re grounded. No dinner tonight. Maybe hunger will teach you something.”

She departed as suddenly as she had come. Her footsteps dwindled down the corridor, leaving behind nothing but silence. I lingered there for a while, gazing at the bed, trying to ease the ache in my chest.

It didn’t.

---

That evening, I huddled in the attic, the flimsy blanket barely keeping away the cold. The space was dim and silent, yet slumber would not arrive. The void in my belly was equaled only by the emptiness in my heart.

I shut my eyes, encouraging myself to relax. However, a change occurred.

The scent struck me first —deep, mesmerizing, unlike anything I'd had ever experienced. It enveloped me, filled my lungs, my mind, my spirit.

Then came the voice.

“Mate.”

My eyes instantly opened. I straightened up, my heart pounding, eyes scanning the confined area.

“Mate,” the voice repeated, yet it wasn’t coming from outside. It was within me.

My wolf.

You’re here. You’re really here. I screamed internally, overwhelmed by joy.

“Our mate is close,” my wolf growled softly in my mind instead.

For the second time that night, I froze again. The scent wasn’t just my wolf’s presence. It was something more. Someone.

My mate.

Heart pounding, i scrambled from the bed without a second thought. A wolf and a mate at the same time? It was almost too good to be true.

But the wolf growled again, filling my thoughts and rubbing me of any rational thoughts.

“Mate. MUST find mate.”

It led me outside, the night air cool against my skin. Yet nothing matters. I didn’t realize where I was until I stepped onto the training grounds.

The scent was overwhelming now, suffocating in its intensity. But it carried with it some familiar scents.

Looking accross the yard, I saw the reason—Rio and his group. They were talking, their voices carrying in the stillness.

“You can’t be serious,” Jonah was saying, his tone incredulous. “You shouldn’t be able to scent her yet. Not for another two years.”

“It’s stronger,” Rio replied, his brow furrowed.

Jonah scoffed. “Dude, Jenny’s sixteen.”

But Rio wasn’t listening. His nose twitched, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the yard. Then his eyes landed on me.

My heart stopped.

Rio stared at me, and I saw the moment the realization hit him.

“Mate.”

The word left his lips like a curse.