/1/105404/coverorgin.jpg?v=5c3a318487bc37587de38d0646fa9875&imageMogr2/format/webp)
Adanna woke before dawn, as she always did.
The Scarlet Moon Pack compound was quiet at that hour, a hush that came just before the day's first stirrings. Her small attic room creaked with the shifting of the old beams, a faint draft curling through the cracks in the window. She wrapped her mother's worn shawl around her shoulders and sat on the edge of the narrow cot, staring at the dark ceiling.
Another day. Another battle to simply exist.
The silence should've been peaceful, but inside her chest was the familiar knot-a mix of restlessness and dread. She'd grown used to it, the way one grows used to an ache that never heals. Being the Omega with no wolf meant she was never allowed to forget her place. She carried it in every stare, every whispered insult when she passed by.
Her wolf had never come. Not on her first full moon, not on any moon after that. At eighteen, the elders had muttered that it was a delay. At twenty, they said perhaps the bond was weak. By twenty-two, they stopped pretending. She was broken. Cursed.
And Tristan, the Alpha, had ensured no one forgot it.
Adanna rose, bare feet padding across the wooden floor. She pulled her hair into a messy knot, not caring that strands fell loose around her face. She couldn't afford vanity, not here. Grabbing the basket by the door, she descended the narrow staircase into the chill of the morning.
The kitchen was already busy. Women stirred pots, boys carried trays, and the scent of baking bread filled the air. Her job was clear-fetch water, scrub, serve, repeat. Always the tasks no one else wanted.
"Move faster, cursed one," hissed Mara, one of the kitchen matrons, as Adanna passed. "We don't need your shadow lingering over the food."
Adanna bit the inside of her cheek and kept walking. She had long since learned silence was the sharpest weapon she had. Words only gave them more to mock.
She pushed open the back door and stepped into the frosty morning. The compound sprawled across Hyde Park, a maze of old stone halls and newer glass-fronted extensions, their mix of tradition and wealth flaunted for anyone who came near. It was strange, she often thought, how they built their homes over ancient roots-roots watered by blood and cruelty.
She walked the path toward the well, the basket bumping against her hip. Two young wolves lounged nearby, shoulders broad, confidence oozing from them. They looked up as she passed.
"No wolf, no worth," one muttered.
"Careful," the other smirked, "she'll curse your pups."
They laughed, loud and sharp, and Adanna's shoulders stiffened. She didn't turn, didn't give them the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. She kept walking, breath steaming in the morning air.
At the well, she dropped the bucket down, listening to the hollow splash as it met the water below. Her reflection rippled on the surface-dark eyes too serious for her age, hair a wild mess, lips pressed thin. She barely recognized the girl staring back.
Her mother's shawl hung heavy around her shoulders. A pang hit her chest at the thought. If her mother were alive, things would've been different. She would've had someone to stand beside her when the pack spat their venom. Someone to remind her she wasn't just... nothing.
But her mother was gone. Slain in that raid years ago, when Alpha Tristan had ordered his warriors to "purify" the cursed outskirts. And Adanna, barely fifteen then, had watched her mother's last breath fade into the dirt.
She hauled the bucket up, arms straining, and filled her basket's jars one by one.
As she worked, voices drifted from the main hall, louder than usual. There was a buzz in the air-excitement, sharp and electric. She didn't need to ask why. Tonight was the full moon ceremony.
Her stomach twisted.
Every full moon, the pack gathered under the open sky, shifting together, celebrating the bond that made them strong. For Adanna, it was always the longest night of the month. Watching them transform while she remained flesh and bone, human and hollow-it was agony dressed as ritual.
This time would be worse.
This ceremony was special, a fated mate recognition. Alexander, the Alpha's heir, would be announcing his bond. Everyone whispered about it. Everyone anticipated it.
Adanna knew why.
She had felt it months ago, the pull deep in her chest. The spark in her veins when Alexander touched her wrist at the training grounds. The way her breath caught, her wolfless soul aching for something it couldn't explain. It had to be him. Her fated mate.
It should've been her salvation.
Instead, she knew it would be her ruin.
Alexander had made no secret of his disdain for her. He, more than anyone, reveled in her humiliation. He wouldn't want her as his mate. If the bond was real-and her gut told her it was-then tonight, before the whole pack, he would reject her.
The thought curdled in her stomach like poison.
"Adanna!" a voice snapped. She turned to see Mara storming down the path, hands on her hips. "Do you plan to daydream all morning? Move, girl! The Alpha's hall must be spotless for tonight!"
Adanna swallowed her retort and lifted the basket. Her arms trembled under the weight, but she straightened her spine and walked past Mara without a word.
Back inside, she scrubbed floors until her knees ached, polished silver until her hands stung. The hours crawled, the buzz of anticipation growing louder with every passing moment. Wolves moved through the halls in fine clothes, whispers trailing behind them like smoke.
By evening, the pack would gather in Hyde Park's sacred clearing, beneath the ancient oaks that had seen centuries of moonlight. By evening, her fate would be sealed.
Adanna stole a moment to herself in her room as dusk settled. She sat on her bed, staring at the bundle of clothes laid out for her. Plain, simple. She was expected to attend, not as a wolf, not as a warrior's mate-to-be, but as a shadow-there to witness, not belong.
Her heart pounded.
/0/94520/coverorgin.jpg?v=d4fb85dd09d8d546c1374e46d4b44d01&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/63262/coverorgin.jpg?v=72aa9b4ef5efc8c39495e085bc27a19d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/28885/coverorgin.jpg?v=706af5a2210e9b6eecb591722c3224d4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18744/coverorgin.jpg?v=4d5a16f9477ddc15edf3303bdc473f6c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83681/coverorgin.jpg?v=8adfa3a93d7034294aaf131324eba12e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/25828/coverorgin.jpg?v=723db197a8d7b4eba110b76f2df108cb&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/21558/coverorgin.jpg?v=68da98badbd3334553d088ce0002516b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103176/coverorgin.jpg?v=d3bafc763a38d4b06eb251e4e46265ef&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/30065/coverorgin.jpg?v=8dace9dda3bcf00d212da1658a584bbe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/90946/coverorgin.jpg?v=07e44c92e5757437b66f68e86a2e6ffd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/79639/coverorgin.jpg?v=d120edfc595220e29f599bab7a546f88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/4684/coverorgin.jpg?v=9452f7134f119dea71f01d40ba90a42d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/8431/coverorgin.jpg?v=475baa937fa0a883850e3c03ac57f6b3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/15789/coverorgin.jpg?v=d7f86c3953f7aadc6fb197d8b924fed3&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/16408/coverorgin.jpg?v=efe69e6f327e3e6de2e766dfa4793474&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/5250/coverorgin.jpg?v=1f116328eecc72ad51aa0e31c4e6710c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/1198/coverorgin.jpg?v=20171122154850&imageMogr2/format/webp)