Five Husbands For Kindness

Lysandra Pov:

The thing about prophecies is that nobody actually wants to be in one.

I learned that lesson tonight, standing in the Grand Hall of Everspire Palace, wearing a long flowing dress, while five of the most powerful Alphas in the kingdom stared at me like I was a piece of rotting meat someone had left on their dinner plate.

The Blood Moon hung fat and red in the sky above us, visible through the massive glass ceiling that the royal wolf architects had installed specifically for this ceremony. Once every thousand years, they said. Once every thousand years, the Moon Goddess herself would choose a woman to unite five Alpha packs and save the kingdom from destruction.

Lucky me.

"This has to be a mistake," said Alpha Kieran Silvercrest, Crown Prince of Everspire and the first of my supposed "fated mates." He wasn't even looking at me when he said it. He was looking at the High Priestess like she'd personally offended him by conducting this ceremony. "Run the ritual again."

The High Priestess, a tiny old woman who probably weighed ninety pounds soaking wet but could make grown Alphas pee themselves with a single look, did not appear amused. "Your Highness, the Blood Moon does not make mistakes."

"Then the Moon Goddess has a terrible sense of humor," Kieran shot back.

I couldn't even argue with him. I was standing there in a silver dress that someone had shoved me into three hours ago, my hair actually brushed for once in my miserable life, and I wanted to be literally anywhere else but here. The dress had approximately eight thousand tiny buttons down the back and I was pretty sure at least half of them were stabbing me in the spine. Fashion was torture and rich people were insane.

"The prophecy is clear," the High Priestess continued, her voice echoing through the hall where about five hundred pack members had gathered to witness this disaster. "When the Blood Moon rises in the thousandth year, five Alphas shall be bound to one woman, chosen by the Goddess herself. Together, they will stand against the darkness, or the kingdom shall fall."

"Darkness, darkness, always with the dramatic darkness," muttered Alpha Darius Goldmane, the Merchant Heir, who was examining his fingernails like this whole thing was boring him to death. "Can we speed this up? I have a trade negotiation in the morning."

I felt my eye twitch. Of all the things to say during your supposed fated mate ceremony, "I have a trade negotiation" was definitely up there on the list of most insulting.

Alpha Theron Ironfang, the General, had his massive arms crossed over his chest. The man was built like someone who had decided to see how many muscles they could fit on one person and then added a few more for good luck. He was scowling at me like I'd personally insulted his entire military career. "She doesn't even have a wolf," he said flatly. "I can't smell one on her."

And there it was. The thing everyone was thinking but he was the first to say out loud.

I was wolfless.

Or at least, that's what everyone believed.

The crowd started murmuring, that horrible whisper-buzz that happened when hundreds of people all decided to gossip at once. I could hear bits and pieces of it.