Chapter 4 FOUR

SERAYA

Mistress Yhlda’s grip froze in my hair.

I seized the moment and stumbled away, retreating into a corner. My arms wrapped tightly around my shaking body as quiet sobs slipped past my lips.

The sound of the bloodhorn cut through the air again, and my sobbing stilled.

A cold, clipped voice followed.

“By decree of High Alpha Rhazien Vaelbourne, and with the sanction of the council of elders, the Luna selection shall be held at sundown, three moon days hence.”

“The Luna selection?” Excited murmurs rippled through the room.

From where I was curled up, I caught sight of the Luna candidate. Pride radiated from her, her expression calm and assured, as though she already held the Alpha in her grasp. She didn’t look worried, not even at the thought of competition.

The Omegas around me showed no such reaction. Their expressions remained unchanged, likely because they already knew their place.

Or perhaps because there had been no mention of Omegas being allowed to attend, not as servants, but as participants.

The crier continued, his voice echoing once more.

“All noble-born Omegas of eligible bloodline are summoned to present themselves for inspection and trial. Attendance is not optional.”

The horn sounded again. Once. That marked the end of the announcement.

My heart pounded in the silence that followed. Omegas of eligible bloodline.

That meant something.

An Omega considered eligible had lineage, noble descent, and a traceable bond line. They were daughters of former Lunas, high-ranking Omegas, priestesses.

Their bloodlines were clean. Untainted by rogues, ferals, or rejection. Their scent records marked them as pure, controlled, and untouched by disgrace. They were not exiled, not declared unlawful, not broken.

I wasn’t a rogue or a feral. If I had been, I would have been cast out long ago.

But, I was broken. And that made it worse.

“My father sits on the council. I believe I’m quite eligible to take part in the selection,” a red-haired girl, Mary, said as she tucked a curl behind her ear.

She smiled brightly, while the other girls looked at her with poorly concealed jealousy.

“I would like to try to be the next Luna. Though I doubt I stand a chance against someone like her.” Mary tilted her head toward the Luna candidate, who now stood beside Mistress Yhlda, being fitted into a ceremonial gown.

I let out a quiet breath of relief. At least I had a moment to recover. Mistress Yhlda would return to me later.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” a brunette chimed in. “At least you’re eligible. Who knows, the Alpha might take a liking to you.”

Mary gave a soft snort. “She’s Celestara of Frostmoor. She’s been raised her entire life to be the perfect Luna. Her lineage traces back to the third bonded Luna in the council records. The Alpha will want alliances, and her father, Alpha Thaeron, can offer exactly that. Do you really think I stand a chance? I’m just the daughter of an Elder.”

She laughed lightly. There was no bitterness in it. Only acceptance. Even knowing she could never win, she still held onto the small hope of trying.

“I am somewhat jealous though,” she said, her gaze lingering on Celestara as she let out a soft, wistful sigh.

“Do I sense idleness from any of you?” Mistress Yhlda barked.

I jumped from where I had been huddled and hurried to grab the wooden bucket, forcing my body back into motion. Around me, the other girls scattered, rushing to resume their duties.

I had barely taken a step toward the door when Mistress Yhlda’s voice cut through the room again.

Of course. I wasn’t escaping her.

I turned and walked toward her, my breath shallow, my body trembling despite my effort to steady myself.

My scalp still burned from where she had yanked my hair, and my cheek throbbed from the slap.

I wasn’t ready for another punishment. I didn’t think I could endure it.

“Take the tunic and scrub the stain out. You are not to leave until it is completely gone.”

I swallowed, my eyes drifting to the tunic lying on the floor.

Was she testing me?

She had seen how I reacted to it earlier. It didn’t seem fair to make me handle it again.

“Do you want to disobey me?” she scowled.

“N-no, ma’am,” I whispered, bending to pick it up.

The moment my fingers touched the fabric, heat shot through me, spreading rapidly across my body.

I gulped, biting the inside of my cheek as I tightened my grip, forcing myself not to drop it again.

I carried it to the wash basin. The stain was worse than I had expected.

Dark. Thick. Dried blood. I could only pray to the goddess that it was nothing more than that.

Ashroot paste, used in suppressants and scent-binding rituals, always left behind dull gray-green stains when spilled. It hardened into fabric and never fully washed out. I knew that too well.

I still had one on my own dress.

I remembered how long I had struggled to scrub it, how it refused to fade no matter how hard I tried.

Now, with Alpha Rhazien’s scent clinging to the tunic, the task felt impossible. By the time evening came, everyone else had returned to their room except me.

If the stain remained, I wasn’t allowed to leave. That had been Mistress Yhlda’s order, and she had stationed a guard outside to make sure I didn’t slow down.

I scrubbed until my hands went numb. Still, the stain refused to lift.

Frustration surged through me. I tossed the scrubbing stone aside and let out a shaky breath.

“What are you doing, runt?” the guard snapped from outside.

“N-nothing!” I stammered, quickly wiping away the tears slipping down my cheeks.

I crawled forward, picked up the stone again, and forced myself back to work. Feeling sorry for myself wouldn’t change anything.

—

I didn’t want to be here. But I had no choice.

I was among the Omegas assigned to serve at the event. Mistress Yhlda had made sure of it.

She hadn’t forgiven me for carrying Alpha Rhazien’s scent, and though she never said it outright, I knew this was part of my punishment.

“The announcement is happening now,” one of the servers beside me whispered quietly.

I looked towards the raised stage where the Luna candidates were made to stand. I was by one of the rectangular tables filled with high alphas and Lords from different territories. Some had followed their daughters who were taking part in the event, while some had come merely to watch and see if they could take the candidates who didn’t pass as wives for themselves.

Before a Luna could be chosen, they needed to undergo several challenges: heat suppression, bond trials, and finally, a scent binding ritual.

The first had been done. The candidates had been led into a circle, veiled in ash-grey linen, the veil used to suppress their scent until the moment of trial.

A bloodline declaration followed, and those who were tainted were dismissed immediately.

Mary had been called, and she passed, her bloodline declared pure. Celestara too.

It was now time for the bond trial.

An unclaimed alpha was brought into the circle. Alpha Rhazien. He was blindfolded and unscented.

The Omegas’ natural scents were released, their heat suppressants already removed. If the alpha reacted instinctively towards one of them, then the Omega would be marked as bond-worthy.

I watched as Alpha Rhazien stood before the women, the room falling into silence. I counted my breaths even though I wasn’t one of those standing there.

I couldn’t help but feel how wrong it was, how I should have been one of the girls in that position. He had imprinted on me. He should be mating and marking me.

But I was worthless.

Alpha Rhazien gravitated towards Celestara, and as they moved towards each other, it felt like a push and pull force surrounded them.

That action alone was enough to tell who he had chosen.

“The Alpha has chosen,” the priestess declared.

Celestara turned her face slightly toward me, smiling. My hands trembled around the flagon. My throat burned.

I watched as she was led to the moonstone altar, her wrists bound in silver-dyed silk. Moonhoney was brushed across her skin, first on her wrists, then her throat.

I bit on my quivering lower lip as Alpha Rhazien spoke the claim rite.

“She’s mine to take and treat as I desire.”

What about me? I wanted to scream.

I ignored the cheers that rose from the nobility.

He had used me again, yet he had chosen another in my presence. It was humiliating, to say the least.

My body shook as the familiar heat returned.

I tried my best to suppress it. I had taken the moonleaf tea, but it wasn’t working.

I gasped, letting go of the flagon as my hands burned. It slipped from my grip and crashed to the ground, the ceremony halting briefly as all eyes turned toward me.

I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole.

I tried to run, but my legs refused to move. My body locked in place. I felt his gaze. It was empty, stripped of any emotion.

“She’s ill. I am sorry. She shall be attended to,” Mistress Yhlda said.

Not really.

She grabbed a fistful of my hair and dragged me out of the hall. I couldn’t even protest. I didn’t have the strength.