Chapter 3

After walking for hours, I collapsed in front of the Snyder estate, my body giving out from exhaustion.

When I came to, it was to the shock of icy water being thrown in my face.

“You disgraceful thing!” Father’s voice thundered from above. “You dare show up here, disheveled and unconscious, in front of our home? Do you have any idea what this would do to my reputation if word got out?”

I blinked, my vision blurry as I took in the scene. Father stood at the head of the room, his expression dark with fury. Mother and Clark were huddled around Emelia, their attention entirely on her.

“The Millers are expecting an alliance through your mate pairing with Vicente,” Father continued, his tone sharp. “How am I supposed to explain this to them? You’ve embarrassed us all!”

The Millers were one of the most influential packs in the region, and the mate pairing with Vicente had been arranged to strengthen our pack’s position. Father had always been obsessed with maintaining the pack’s reputation, and this was no exception.

He motioned to one of the pack members, who handed him a whip.

“Willow,” he said, his voice cold and final, “only pack discipline will teach you to respect our traditions.”

He raised the whip, but Emelia stepped forward, her eyes wide with faux concern.

“Father, please!” she cried, dropping to her knees. “Willow was just upset and went off with some friends. It’s not worth punishing her so severely!”

She glanced at me, her expression soft but her eyes gleaming with triumph.

“It’s my fault, really,” she added, her voice trembling. “I’ve taken her place in the pack, and it’s only natural she’d resent me.”

Mother and Clark immediately turned to comfort her, their faces filled with sympathy. Even Father, usually so stern, softened for a moment to reassure her.

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

“Clark,” I said, my voice hoarse but steady, “do you really not know why I missed the mark ceremony?”

He shot me a sharp look, his eyes narrowing in warning.

“Willow, you’ve always thought too highly of yourself,” he snapped. “You’ve never accepted Vicente as your mate, and now you’re jealous of Emelia. You even tried to push her earlier—how petty can you be?”

I didn’t understand why he was so determined to side with Emelia, but at this point, it didn’t matter.

“I didn’t push Emelia,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m an Omega—I don’t have the strength to harm anyone, let alone without powers.”

I looked directly at Clark, my gaze unwavering.

“And I didn’t pass out on purpose,” I continued. “I was exhausted. But tell me, Clark, why did you leave me in the woods? You know I’m terrified of the dark.”

As I spoke, I rolled up my sleeves, revealing the bruises and cuts that covered my arms. Clark’s eyes flickered to them, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of guilt.

But Mother and Father were unmoved.

“If you hadn’t gone off like a rogue, none of this would have happened,” Mother said coldly. “You brought this on yourself.”

Father’s expression hardened.

“To think the Snyder Pack has a daughter like you,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re a stain on our legacy.”

They turned to leave, Emelia trailing behind them like their prized possession. Clark hesitated, his guilt finally breaking through.

“I was wrong to leave you there,” he admitted quietly. “But the mark ceremony is done, Willow. You need to let it go.”

He paused, then added, “You’re strong. You could rise above your Omega status if you put your mind to it. You don’t need Vicente.”

The pack’s dream had always been to produce a powerful Alpha or Luna, someone who could elevate our status among the other packs. That’s why they’d pinned all their hopes on Emelia, believing she was the key to our future.

What they didn’t know was that the future of the Snyder Pack—and perhaps all werewolf kind—would one day be born from me.

Chapter 4

I’ve been hiding in my room these past few days, avoiding everyone.

To pass the time, I’ve been trying to calm the restless energy inside me, the one that always seems to simmer beneath the surface.

Every night, I dream of him—Arthur Ford, the Lycan Prince who saved me from the rogues that night by the lake.

In my dreams, he asks if I regret choosing him, and I always say no.

If he hadn’t emerged that day, if he hadn’t intervened, I would’ve been at the mercy of Lachlan Garcia and his pack of rogues.

He told me to meet him at the Moonstone Altar in seven days, to wear red for our mark ceremony.

I asked a maid to buy me red fabric, and I’ve been sewing a dress in secret, my fingers tracing the fabric with a mix of hope and determination.

But somehow, word got out.

Alpha Marvin and Luna Elodie burst into my room, their auras heavy with anger.

“Willow, what are you thinking?” Alpha Marvin’s voice was sharp, his alpha tone cutting through the air. “An unmated she-wolf sewing a dress like this? Do you have any idea what this could do to our pack’s reputation?”

“Or are you trying to ruin Emelia’s mark ceremony with Joaquin Mendoza?” Luna Elodie added, her tone icy. “Do you want to jeopardize the alliance we’ve worked so hard to build?”

No matter how much I tried to explain, they wouldn’t listen.

Alpha Marvin grabbed the dress from my hands and tore it to shreds, the fabric scattering across the floor like bloodstains.

“Willow, if you dare disrupt Emelia’s ceremony,” he growled, “I’ll deal with you myself. You’ve been nothing but trouble since the day you were born.”

I stared at the ruined fabric, tears slipping down my cheeks.

Maybe this was for the best. When I left, I wouldn’t feel any attachment to this place.

Alpha Marvin and Luna Elodie have been fussing over Emelia these past few days, making sure her mark ceremony goes perfectly.

Oddly enough, Clark, my brother, hasn’t been causing me any trouble. In fact, he even gave me a necklace.

But of course, he couldn’t help being his usual arrogant self.

“Willow, you’ve been behaving yourself lately,” he said, tossing the necklace at me. “This symbolizes completion. I’ll find you a suitable mate, someone who’ll make your life whole.”

I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me.

His idea of a “suitable mate” was probably someone like Lachlan Garcia, a rogue who’d treat me like dirt.

Time passed quickly, and the Snyder Pack’s territory was decorated with lights and banners for Emelia’s ceremony.

Using a red dress I already owned, I made a simple outfit for myself.

The entire pack was so busy with Emelia’s ceremony that no one noticed when I walked out the front gate.

I paused at the threshold, taking one last look at the place I used to call home. From now on, it would have nothing to do with me.

Their joy wasn’t mine to share. My life here had always been a joke.

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