A notorious triplet with a blinding future. An Omega with no hope for the present. A chase for acceptance and identity. Gwen Marcus is the omega outcast, denounced by her pack and tormented by the alpha's sons-a notorious triplet who rules the school with an iron fist. Counting down the days until she can escape at eighteen, her only hope is the dream of a fresh start. But fate and the moon goddess have other plans. On her birthday night, her true mates are revealed and her life goes crashing like a pack of cards. Gwen is fated to the same triplets that have made life hell for her. It's a shocking truth that'd stick to her like a scar and she must choose. Will she cling to her long-held desire for freedom, or can forgiveness pave the way for her to find love right where her scar lies?
Chapter 1 Prologue
IT'S THE NIGHT OF THE MOON FEAST. The night my family's name would cease to exist. I watched Father's gaze linger on the ground as Elder Hancock made it to my spot, scorn written all over his wrinkled face. His bony finger, like a gnarled branch of a dead tree, jabbed at my chest as his voice dwindled into a dry rasp carried by the soft breeze of the night.
"You're a curse, child," he grumbled, exposing his set of tar-coated teeth. "You dragged an honorable man to his knees with your woes," he said again, nodding towards Father.
His words clubbed me like a hard punch to the face. It felt like a physical blow. Shame burned in my throat, a bitter fire fueled by guilt. I could feel it crawl up my marrows.
Moon feasts are for merrymaking. It has always been so. But instead of wining and dining like everybody else, my whole family shuddered in pain as the twine on our wrists kept eating into our skins like locusts. We were tied to crude wooden crosses, stark against the bone-white moon that cast an unsettling glow on the desolate plain.
They were hung up for my flaws.
Elder Hancock shuffled back, his pronouncement complete even though his voice still lingered in the air. In his wake came Ursula, the Alpha's fierce Commander.
The Alpha calls him nemesis. He's the nightmare to anything hung on the Alpha's death crosses. He made in our direction as soon as the Alpha nodded towards Father. That was it. That was all he needed to tighten the grip on the weapon lost in his grip. It's a curved scimitar. A fierce weapon that has gotten used to his robust hand and the woes that comes with it.
A collective gasp escaped the gathered crowd as all eyes turned towards him. It was that final ruffled murmurs of boys, those who cared and those who desperately wanted us out-and out for good.
Ursula assumed the position to begin the executions. As his scared face swiveled into a thick frown, I squeezed my eyes shut-bracing myself for the worst. But the sound I expected – the cold bite of steel – never came. Instead, a deep croaky voice erupted within the crowd. One that breathed authority and guts.
"I dare you to spill one more drop of blood tonight, you traitor."