Chapter 3
The days following the feast blurred together in a haze of humiliation and cold determination. Word of my "drunken display" had spread through the pack like wildfire, each retelling more embellished than the last. By the third day, I had supposedly thrown myself at Aiden's feet, begging him to choose me over Seraphine.
The lies should have hurt more than they did.
Instead, each whispered insult, each pitying look, each cruel laugh only strengthened the wall of ice forming around my heart. I had lived through this before—the slow erosion of dignity, the systematic destruction of my place in the pack. But this time, I wasn't a naive girl hoping things would get better.
This time, I was planning my escape.
I spent my mornings in the pack library, ostensibly studying healing herbs but actually researching the northern territories. Which packs were accepting refugees. Which routes were safest for lone wolves. How much coin I would need to start over somewhere far from here.
My afternoons were spent with my mother, helping her tend to her small garden behind the pack house. Lydia had grown quieter since the feast, her worried glances following me wherever I went. She knew something had changed in me, but she didn't ask questions I wasn't ready to answer.
"The lavender is blooming beautifully this year," she said softly, her fingers gentle as she pruned the purple stalks.
I knelt beside her, my hands working automatically while my mind calculated travel times and supply costs. "It is. We should harvest some for sachets before the first frost."
"Elara." Her voice was careful, controlled. "About what happened at the feast..."
"It's forgotten," I lied smoothly. "These things happen."
She studied my profile, and I could feel the weight of her concern. "You've been different since that night. Distant."
I met her eyes, seeing my own dark hair and pale skin reflected in her features. In my past life, I had never noticed how much sadness she carried, how her smiles never quite reached her eyes.
"I'm fine, Mother. Just... learning to see things more clearly."
Before she could respond, the sharp click of heels on stone announced an unwelcome visitor. Seraphine appeared around the corner of the garden path, resplendent in a gown of pale yellow silk that made her look like captured sunlight.
"How domestic," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "Playing in the dirt suits you, sister."
Lydia's jaw tightened, but she said nothing. In the pack hierarchy, Seraphine outranked us both.
"Did you need something?" I asked, not bothering to stand or brush the soil from my hands.
Seraphine's green eyes glittered with malicious pleasure. "Actually, yes. I wanted to personally invite you to tomorrow's hunt."
My blood turned to ice. "Hunt?"
"Oh, didn't you hear?" Her smile was razor-sharp. "I've organized a special competition for our visiting Alphas. An old tradition—Alpha's Hunt. The bravest wolves will chase prey through the forest, and whoever catches their quarry wins a prize."
The way she said 'prey' made my skin crawl. "How... traditional."
"Isn't it?" Seraphine stepped closer, her perfume cloying in the afternoon air. "Of course, we needed suitable prey for such distinguished hunters. Something... challenging."
The realization hit me like a physical blow. "No."
"Oh yes." Her voice was pure silk wrapped around steel. "You'll be the prize, dear sister. Whoever catches you gets to keep you."
Lydia shot to her feet, soil scattering from her skirts. "Seraphine, that's barbaric. Elara is not some animal to be hunted."
"Isn't she?" Seraphine's laugh was musical and cruel. "She's unwed, unclaimed, and frankly, becoming quite the burden on the pack. This way, she'll finally serve a useful purpose."
"The pack council would never approve such a thing," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
"Wouldn't they?" Seraphine pulled a scroll from her sleeve, unfurling it with theatrical flourish. "Alpha Thorne's seal. The visiting Alphas were quite enthusiastic about the idea when I proposed it. Apparently, it's been centuries since anyone organized a proper hunt."
I stared at the official seal, my father's signature stark black against the parchment. He had signed away my freedom, my safety, my very life for the entertainment of his guests.
"The hunt begins at dawn," Seraphine continued, her voice bright with false cheer. "You'll have a head start, of course. We're not completely unreasonable. But after that..." She shrugged delicately. "May the best Alpha win."
She turned to leave, then paused, looking back over her shoulder. "Oh, and Elara? Do try to put up a good fight. It's so much more entertaining when the prey struggles."
After she was gone, Lydia and I stood in stunned silence among the lavender and herbs. The peaceful garden suddenly felt like a cage, the pack house looming over us like a prison.
"We have to stop this," Lydia whispered, her face pale as parchment.
"How?" The word came out harsher than I intended. "You saw the seal. Father has already decided."
"I'll talk to him. I'll make him see reason."
I caught her hand, squeezing gently. "Mother, when has Alpha Thorne ever changed his mind once it's made? Especially when it involves choosing between his acknowledged daughter and his wife's bastard?"
The cruel words hung between us, but they were true. We both knew it.
That evening, Lydia did try to speak with Alpha Thorne. I heard their voices through the walls of his study—her pleading, his dismissive responses. When she emerged an hour later, her eyes were red-rimmed and defeated.
"He says it's already arranged," she said quietly. "The other Alphas are expecting it. To cancel now would be... insulting."
"And my life is less important than their entertainment."
She pulled me into her arms, holding me tight. "I'm so sorry, my darling. I'm so sorry."
I let her hold me, but my mind was already racing ahead to tomorrow.
In my past life, I had never faced anything like this—Seraphine's cruelties had been more subtle then, more psychological than physical.
But I should have expected her to escalate, especially with Aiden's obvious preference for her fueling her confidence.
The hunt would begin at dawn.
Would I be able to survive it?
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