Chapter 1On our mating ceremony, my mate—Wilmore Sullivan, Alpha of the New Moon Pack—just dove into a lake. For another she-wolf.
The guests? They looked at me like I was the joke of the century.
I stood at the altar and prayed for him for three straight hours.
Just as I was about to break, my father showed up.
He walked straight up to me, lifted my veil, and said softly, "Sweetheart, let's go home."
Then he calmly ordered his men to take every gift we had brought for the Crescent Pack back to our territory.
That night, Wilmore came back, soaked to the bone.
When he saw the empty house, he just froze.
After that, he knelt at our border all night, wrecked and falling apart.
My father sent him only one message:
"Wanna mate with my daughter? In. Your. Dreams."
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The sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows had already dulled into late afternoon. The tiara on my head–set with an enormous sapphire, my family heirloom–felt unbearably heavy, the weight aching into my neck.
The church was quiet. Or rather, it was dead silent. The kind of silence that was thick with people enjoying someone else's misery. I could hear the guests whispering, their voices buzzing in my ears like a swarm of flies.
"Three hours… and Alpha Wilmot still hasn't come back?"
"Running off from his own mating ceremony for another she-wolf? He's turned the Crescent Pack into a laughingstock."
"And those gifts from the Silverlight Pack–what a joke now."
I stood frozen in place. My body had long since gone numb; only my ears stubbornly caught every cutting word.
Today was supposed to be my big day with Wilmot. Just an hour earlier, we had been about to exchange vows. The priest's voice had echoed through the Crescent Pack's grand cathedral–until a guard burst in, face pale, voice shaking. "Alpha Wilmot! Bad news! Linette fell into the lake behind the mountain!"
Wilmot stiffened beside me. He didn't look at me or even hesitate. All I saw was the sharp sweep of his suit's hem as he sprinted out of the hall.
He left like a gust of wind, blowing away the celebration and my dignity along with it.
Linette Kimmons was his distant cousin and childhood sweetheart growing up in the Crescent Pack. An omega who always wore pristine white, spoke in whispers, and looked as fragile as a wilting flower. She claimed she was too delicate for sunlight, too weak for even a breeze. But during the ceremony, I saw her clearly through my veil. She stood at the edge of the crowd, staring straight at me. Her eyes weren't weak or sickly; they were cold, triumphant, and provocative. Then she turned and walked toward the mountains. Minutes later, the news of her "accident" arrived.
Shock rippled through the guests–then curiosity, then open gossip. Soon, they were watching me like a spectacle.
Luna Vilma Sullivan–Wilmot's mother–finally couldn't take it anymore. She walked up to me, her voice sharp with impatience and malice. "Mina, you're an Alpha's daughter; you should be understanding. Lina is delicate, and she only fell in because she was rushing to make it to your mating ceremony. It's only right that Wilmot went to save her. Stop standing there like a fool. You're disgracing us all."
I said nothing, a lump swelling painfully in my throat.
Understanding? My mate left me at the altar for another she-wolf, and I was supposed to be understanding? I had to watch him risk his life for someone else while I stood here like an idiot under this veil, letting everyone laugh at me?
"Just take the veil off yourself already," she raised her voice when I didn't move. "Don't act like a pampered princess here. Now that you're in the Crescent Pack, you follow our rules."
Rules? My father spent eighteen years teaching me about respect and etiquette. I learned every rule by heart, only to have my dignity shredded in the most public way possible at my mating ceremony.
I gripped my dress so hard my nails dug into my palms. I couldn't break. As the daughter of the Silverlight Pack's Alpha, I refused to collapse in front of these people.
The sun sank lower. Half the guests had already left; the rest stayed purely to see how this farce would end. Luna Vilma had retreated to the lounge, muttering that I was being "impossible."
In the vast church, only I remained–along with the lavish gifts that now felt painfully ironic. They sat in polished mahogany chests, each engraved with the Silverlight Pack's emblem. My mother had prepared every one of them before she died, hoping they would help me integrate into my mate's pack–to become a beloved Luna. Instead, my mate had turned me into a joke.
Just as my legs were about to give out, I heard a commotion at the entrance. It wasn't Wilmot. It was the synchronized clank of armor–the steady, commanding footsteps of soldiers.
The crowd parted automatically. A man walked in, framed by light. He wore gold-trimmed armor–the insignia of the Supreme Commander of the royal army. His graying hair was slicked back, silver under the candlelight. His expression was carved from cold authority. It was my father–Alpha Marsh Huffman of the Silverlight Pack.
He didn't spare a glance for the stunned guests, the chaos, or the empty space where the groom should have stood. From the moment he entered, his eyes were fixed on me.
He crossed the cathedral and stopped before me, taking in my trembling figure and barely restrained despair. The silence became absolute–so complete that a pin drop would have echoed. Everyone held their breath, waiting to see how he would respond. Would he scold me for being stubborn, or find an excuse for the Crescent Pack to make this less embarrassing?
Instead, he said nothing. He just reached out and gently lifted my veil with a steady hand. The instant it rose, the tears I had held back for hours finally spilled over. There was no reproach or disappointment in his eyes. Only raw, aching pain for me.
"Sweetheart," he said, his deep voice steady yet roughened in a way I had never heard before. "Let's go home."
Those four words hit me harder than anything else. I finally dissolved into tears.
He didn't say anything else, just turned to the guards he'd brought and issued a quiet order–one that echoed through the cathedral all the same. "Take all the gifts. Every last one. We're bringing them home."
"Yes, Alpha Marsh!" the guards shouted in unison. They moved swiftly, carrying the mahogany chests out one by one.
The guests were frozen. This wasn't a "resolution"–this was a declaration of war. Taking back those gifts was nothing short of a public insult to the Crescent Pack. It was a message to the whole city: "My daughter will not mate with you."
Chapter 2
When we got back to the Silverlight Pack, it was pitch black. My dad dismissed everyone and personally walked me up to my room. Everything was exactly as I'd left it–the books I'd been reading were still on the desk. It made that chaotic mating ceremony feel like nothing more than a fever dream.
Dad poured me a cup of hot coffee and watched as I took small sips. "Don't beat yourself up over today," he said, finally breaking the silence. "You didn't do anything wrong." I gripped the warm cup and shook my head. "I know I'm not the one who messed up, Dad. But I'm still the biggest joke in the city."
"A joke?" A cold edge sharpened his voice. "Let them try to laugh. I'll make sure they regret it. My daughter doesn't need to be mated to be protected. I'll look after you for the rest of your life, and no one is going to lay a finger on you."
His words put a spark of warmth back into my frozen heart. But I knew life wasn't that simple.
"The Crescent Pack has the Lycan King's ear," I reminded him. "They even run the Royal Guard. If we pull a move like this…"
"The Royal Guard?" Dad let out a chilling laugh. "The Guard belongs to the Lycan King, not to some Alphas. If Wilmot can abandon you at the altar for a she-wolf today, he can abandon his King for something else tomorrow. Do you think the Lycan King can sleep soundly with a man lurking at his door?"
I got it immediately. This wasn't just a family feud anymore. My dad was turning this insult into a political death blow.
The next morning, the news hit the pack like wildfire. "Mina! Mina!" My wolf, Peachy, suddenly chirped in my mind. "Alpha Wilmot… he's kneeling at our border!"
My hand froze as I brushed my hair. "When?"
"They say he rushed over in the middle of the night! He went home, found the honeymoon suite empty, and realized you and your gifts were gone. He panicked. Word is his father was so pissed he gave him dozens of lashes as punishment. Now he's at our gates, covered in wounds, and he's been kneeling there since 3:00 AM!" Peachy sounded pretty satisfied with that.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was pale, with dark circles under my eyes, but the girl who had been excited to get mated was gone. My eyes were as cold as a frozen lake.
Kneeling all night? Raw knees? It was a joke. If he cared that much, he wouldn't have run out in the first place. He thought a bit of public penance would erase my humiliation or soften my dad's heart. He didn't know my dad–and he didn't know me.
My dad ignored him all morning, handling pack business like Wilmot didn't exist. It wasn't until after lunch that a beta hurried in.
"Alpha Marsh, a messenger from the Palace. The Lycan King wants to see you… and Alpha Wilmot."
Dad put down his pen, his face unreadable. He walked to the door and gave his first order regarding Wilmot. "Go tell Alpha Wilmot one thing."
The beta bowed. "Yes, Alpha Marsh?"
Dad looked out at the gray sky, his voice like iron. "He wants to mate with my daughter?" He paused, then let out the final blow. "In his dreams."
On the way to the palace, my dad sat across from me in the car. He was silent, but I could feel the tension coming off him. This wasn't a simple mediation; it was a reckoning.
I didn't go inside. Dad wouldn't let me. He said as his daughter, I shouldn't have to bow my head in a courtroom to be judged for someone else's mistake. But he took my answer with him.
Later, I heard the details of what happened in the Lycan King's study. The air was reportedly cold enough to freeze. Wilmot was on one knee, his voice raspy and broken. "Your Majesty, everything is my fault. I was a fool, and I betrayed Alpha Marsh's trust. I'll take any punishment, I just beg for one more chance to make it right."
He played the part of the repentant soldier perfectly. But it was too little, too late. My dad didn't even give him a glance.
The Lycan King sighed, looking weary. "Alpha Wilmot, you were a fool. You left a lady waiting for three hours and turned the Silverlight Pack into a punchline. That's not right."
Then the Lycan King turned to my dad, his tone softening. "Alpha Marsh, I know you're angry. Any father would be. But Wilmot has served this kingdom well. He's the reason the Northern Border is peaceful. If your families become enemies, it's bad for the whole kingdom."
Anyone else might have folded under the Lycan King's pressure. But not my father. He looked the Lycan King straight in the eye. "Your Majesty, I have only one daughter. I thought I was finding her a mate she could lean on. Instead, this man abandoned her on her most important day for another she-wolf."
His voice was calm, but every word was a dagger. "You talk about the ‘big picture.' But tell me–if a man can break a sacred vow to his mate so easily, how can you trust him to keep a vow to his King? Today, he abandons a bride for personal feelings; tomorrow, will he abandon a city or its people for the same?"
The room went dead silent. My dad had just turned a "family matter" into a question of military loyalty and character. Wilmot turned deathly pale. He couldn't say a word because my dad's logic was flawless.
The Lycan King's face darkened too. He looked at my dad–his closest friend of twenty years–and realized there was no room for negotiation. "I understand, Alpha Marsh," the Lycan King finally said. He waved a hand, looking exhausted. "Wilmot, leave. I'm staying out of this."
Wilmot was practically hauled out by his guards, looking like a ghost.
By the time Dad got home, it was dusk. He told me everything. At the end, he looked at me seriously. "Mina. I was very hard on him in front of the Lycan King. I've officially cut off any chance of a future for you two. Do you… do you blame me?"
I shook my head and poured him a fresh cup of coffee. "No, Dad. You did the right thing. I've realized that getting mated isn't the only way for a she-wolf to live." My voice was soft, but it didn't shake. "From now on, I just want to stay by your side and help you lead our pack."
Chapter 3
After that face-off at the palace, the broken engagement between the Silverlight Pack and the Crescent Pack became a forbidden topic. Everyone knew Alpha Marsh was out for blood and hadn't even given the Lycan King an inch. The Crescent Pack knew they were in the wrong, and Wilmot completely vanished from the public eye. Word was his dad had him under house arrest, forcing him to reflect on his mistakes every single day.
My life seemed to get back on track. It was quiet and busy, almost enough to make me forget Wilmot ever existed–forget that nightmare of a mating ceremony. But beneath the still water, the currents were shifting.
One afternoon, I was going through my gifts. These items, which once held all my hopes and dreams, were now just cold entries in an account book. Suddenly, my wolf, Peachy, spoke up, her voice trembling with rage. "Mina, people are spreading lies about you out there."
"Oh?" I didn't even look up, continuing to mark the ledger with my red pen. "What are they saying? That I'm the jealous type? Or that I'm using my dad's power to bully the Crescent Pack?"
Peachy was stunned. "How did you know?"
I put down my pen and gave a faint, cold smile. "I just do. The Crescent Pack took a massive hit, and Luna Vilma is a petty, overprotective piece of work. It would be weirder if they weren't playing dirty behind my back."
For the past two weeks, I'd had my people quietly digging into the Crescent Pack's business. I knew Wilmot was locked up, but Linette–that "fragile" little omega–had been moved into Luna Vilma's private wing. They were telling everyone she was being "taken in as an adopted daughter out of pity." What a joke. A she-wolf who wrecked her son's mating and shamed his family suddenly becomes a pampered "daughter." This wasn't charity; this was a direct shot at me and the Silverlight Pack. They were telling the world they'd rather have a nameless orphan than the daughter of Alpha Marsh.
"They're saying you couldn't stand Linette even before the mating ceremony and bullied her constantly," Peachy growled in my head. "They're saying you provoked her at the church, and she only fell into the lake because she was so upset by your words."
"Relax," I told her, picking up the ledger again. "Let them talk. The nastier they are now, the harder it'll hurt when I slap them down later."
My eyes landed on a specific page. It listed a set of "Twelve Flower Fairies" white porcelain dinner plate set, handmade by a master from the old era. Exquisite, rare, and priceless. It was my mother's favorite treasure, left to me. I remembered Wilmot once mentioned, offhandedly, that Linette loved white porcelain more than anything. "Someone go to the vault," I called out. "Bring out the Flower Fairies set."
Peachy was confused. "What are you doing with that?"
"I'm selling it."
"Selling it?!" Peachy was horrified. "Mina, that's your mother's legacy! You can't!"
"It's just an object. No matter how much I love it, it's not as important as my reputation." I stood up and walked to the window. "And I'm not just selling it to anyone. I'm hosting a ‘Treasures Auction.' I'm inviting every high-society lady and socialite from every pack in the region. I want everyone to see that I'm ‘strapped for cash'–so desperate I have to sell my mother's heirlooms."
Peachy caught on fast. "You want them to think that because we hauled the gifts back and lost the engagement gifts, our pack is struggling financially?"
"More than that." A sharp glint flickered in my eyes. "I want everyone to see my ‘struggle.' People always pity the underdog. When a victim is forced to sell her mother's things just to keep up appearances, who do you think people will believe when the ‘truth' comes out?"
I wasn't just looking for pity. I was going to use this auction to roast Linette and the Crescent Pack alive. "You all say I couldn't stand her? Fine. I'll show everyone I care so little about her that I'll sell the one thing she dreams of owning without a second thought." "You all say she's so ‘soft and kind'? Fine. Let's see if she can resist. Let's see if she makes Wilmot buy it for her." "If she doesn't try to get it, then her ‘passion' for porcelain was a lie. But if she does make him buy it? Even better." "A man who just dumped his bride, turning around to drop a fortune to buy his ex-fiancée's mother's heirloom for another she-wolf? That's a scandal much more entertaining than a few petty rumors."
