Chapter 3
Elara
Tomorrow. The word hit me like a slap, jolting me out of my anger and back into raw panic. Tomorrow meant no time to plan, no time to think, no time to figure out how to escape this nightmare. Tomorrow meant the trap was already closing, the jaws already snapping shut around my throat.
"No." The word came out before I could stop it, small and desperate. "No, that's—that's not enough time. I need—I can't just—"
My legs moved without conscious thought, carrying me forward even as my father reached out to grab my arm. I twisted away from his grasp with the combat training he'd drilled into me since childhood, closing the distance between myself and the throne in three quick strides. The guards stationed at either side of Aldric's seat tensed, their hands moving to their weapons, but the Alpha King waved them back with another of those casual, commanding gestures.
I dropped to my knees at the base of the throne, my pride finally crumbling under the weight of my desperation. If begging would change his mind, then I would beg. If pleading would buy me time, then I would plead. I had no dignity left to lose.
"Your Majesty, please." My voice cracked on the words, and I hated myself for the weakness but couldn't stop. "If you're concerned about the vampire threat, if you need someone to secure the border, let me do it through strength, not submission. Make me a commander. Put me on the front lines. I've trained for this my entire life—I'm the best fighter in my age group, you know that. I can serve you and the pack, I can protect our people, but please don't ask me to do it like this."
Aldric's expression didn't soften. If anything, he looked even more remote, as if I'd confirmed some disappointing suspicion he'd been harboring. When he spoke, his voice carried the kind of cold finality that left no room for argument.
"Fight?" He let the word hang in the air between us, heavy with implications. "You want to fight for this pack, Elara? Tell me, how exactly do you plan to accomplish that? Your training is impressive, yes. Your technique is flawless. But without the ability to shift, without access to your wolf form, your strength is barely above that of a particularly athletic human. What good is a warrior who can't access half her power?"
Each word was a knife between my ribs, precise and devastating. I opened my mouth to argue, to point out that I'd beaten shifted wolves in sparring matches, that speed and skill could compensate for raw power, but he wasn't finished.
"We gave you an opportunity tonight," he continued, his gaze drifting to the window where moonlight streamed through the stained glass in brilliant colors. "The moon is full. You're twenty-one years old—past the age when any wolf with true potential would have shifted. This was your final chance to prove that you belong among our warriors, to show that you could be more than just a name and a bloodline."
He looked back at me, and the pity in his eyes was somehow worse than contempt would have been. "You failed. Again. And so we've made other arrangements. The position you might have held—the commander's rank we'd been holding open for you—that went to Cassidy Thornwood earlier this evening."
The name hit me like a punch to the gut. "Cassidy," I repeated numbly, the fight draining out of me as the full scope of my humiliation became clear. "You gave my position to Cassidy."
Elara
"Of course." Aldric's tone suggested that any other choice would have been absurd. "Despite her Omega heritage, her wolf form is the most magnificent I've seen in a decade. Beautiful, powerful, and perfectly controlled. She's earned the rank through merit, which is exactly how it should be." He paused, then added with deliberate emphasis, "She's everything we hoped you would become."
The words should have hurt more than they did, but I was already so far beyond pain that they barely registered. I'd been replaced. Discarded. My former best friend—the girl I'd defended against prejudice, the girl I'd trained with and laughed with and shared my deepest secrets with—had taken everything I'd ever wanted and done it with a smile on her perfect face.
"But you," Aldric continued, rising from his throne with the fluid grace of a predator, "you have other advantages. Your bloodline is impeccable. Your family's reputation opens doors that merit alone cannot. The vampires value lineage and status above almost everything else—they're obsessed with it in a way that even we don't fully understand. So while you may not be able to serve as a warrior, you can serve as a bride. A symbol of our pack's commitment to peace and alliance."
He moved past me, heading toward the throne room's exit, and I remained kneeling on the cold marble floor because I couldn't seem to make my legs work anymore. My entire life, distilled down to this moment. All my training, all my hopes, all my dreams of proving myself—reduced to nothing more than a political bargaining chip.
"Your Majesty." The words came out barely above a whisper, but he heard them and paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Is that really all I'm worth to you? To the pack? Just... just a name to be traded away?"
For a moment—just a brief, flickering moment—I thought I saw something like regret cross his features. But it was gone so quickly I might have imagined it, replaced by the same cold authority that had defined this entire nightmare.
"Your worth," he said quietly, "is determined by what you can offer. And right now, this is what you can offer. Accept it with grace, Elara. Make your family proud. Make your pack proud. And perhaps, in time, you'll find that this path has its own kind of purpose."
He took another step toward the door, then stopped again, this time without turning around. When he spoke, his voice carried a warning that sent ice down my spine.
"One more thing. When you arrive at the Valerius estate, I expect you to conduct yourself with dignity. Be a proper bride. Accept your fate. Don't cause trouble or create diplomatic incidents that could endanger our pack." He paused, and I heard him take a breath before continuing. "Don't repeat the mistakes of your predecessor."
The words hung in the air like a curse. "Predecessor?" I asked, my voice hollow. "What do you mean?"
Aldric finally turned to face me fully, and the expression on his face was something I couldn't quite read—part warning, part genuine concern, part something darker that I didn't want to examine too closely.
"The situation I mentioned earlier—the one at our border." His voice flattened, stripped of emotion. "That was your predecessor. The previous bride we sent to the Valerius Kingdom ten years ago. She was the sole pillar holding our peace together all this time." He paused, letting the weight settle. "Last week, she finally broke. Killed herself rather than endure another day in that marriage."
