Rhydian of the Crescent Pack stepped forward, dragging Danika's drifting attention back to the ceremony she was supposed to be the highlight of.
"As much as I would like to claim her…" he began, his voice so light and uncertain that Danika briefly wondered if he was even fit to be there.
Her lips twitched bitterly. Just so she could be picked. Just so her father could finally be rid of her. He had invited heirs unworthy of her bond—heirs whose only use was to provoke her heat so one might choose her out of lust or pity. The sheer irony gnawed at her.
"Even if I were to overlook the fact that she's deficient," Rhydian continued, "she's still a love child born out of wedlock. And we all know what that means—she was born against the Moon Goddess's will. I won't risk bringing her curse into my pack."
That was the height of it.
Danika's rage seethed, white-hot, under her skin. She wasn't going to stand here and let them humiliate her any longer.
Without a word, she turned and walked away.
She didn't wait to hear what Thorne would say—she already knew it would be no different. And the fifth heir? He hadn't even shown up, disrespecting not only her but the entire Crimson Veil Pack.
"Danika, calm down!" someone called behind her.
She didn't stop. Didn't even bother to look back.
Calm down?
They had insulted her mother's memory. Her very existence. And her father—her Alpha—had said nothing.
Born out of wedlock?
He had intended to marry her mother—according to human tradition, even. He brought her into the pack despite fierce opposition from his court, and after learning she was with child, he promised to make it official after the Great War. But fate hadn't waited. Her mother had died giving birth to her.
And Danika had carried that weight every day since.
Yes, they called her the Alpha's disgrace—but no one had dared say it to her face. Not like this. Not in front of her father.
"She's the illegitimate daughter of the Alpha!" "The pack's bastard!" "She's such a curse. Wolfless and hybrid, like her whore mother who threw herself at the Alpha" she'd overheard alot of the whispers behind her back. But none had been said to her face and before her father.
But of course, his Luna was there. And he had always bowed to her control.
Danika's chest ached with resentment. For her father's silence. For her mother's memory being trampled.
Her feet moved faster now, carrying her far from the ceremonial hall and the murmurs trailing behind her. She didn't know where she was going—only that she needed to breathe, to feel something other than the heat rising in her blood again.
Then she rounded the eastern corridor a d collided into someone.
"Tchh." A grunt escaped his mouth.
"Watch it!" the voice snapped. Arrogant and sharp.
"How dare you barge into a future Alpha that way?" His voice dripped with superiority. "I'll have your Alpha behead you as an example."
He sniffed.
Paused.
And then...
"Oh."
His tone changed immediately ,softer now. "Danika."
It was Lucian.
The fifth heir.
Of course it was him.
He hadn't even bothered to show up when expected—and now, here he was, irritated that she'd bumped into him like a commoner.
His eyes skimmed her face, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting.
"You're angry," he said, almost amused. "Who made you mad?"
She didn't answer. Just stepped to the side to keep walking. But he blocked her path.
"I know how it feels, Danika," he murmured, lowering his voice. "To burn and be unseen. To want and not be wanted. That's why I came. To save you."
She blinked at him.
Lucian smiled, like he believed he was offering a gift she should be grateful for.
"Come back in with me," he said. "Let me claim you—right there, in front of everyone. Let them talk. I don't care. I'll accept the bond. I'll make you mine."
Danika's eyebrow twitched.
He wasn't finished.
"I can't wait anymore. I want you. I want your body. Every time I visit the Crimson Veil Pack, your scent drives me mad."
She recoiled, barely holding back her disgust.
"I need you," he whispered.
And just like that, the air shifted. That flicker of uncertainty she'd carried—the hope that maybe he'd been the one to claim her—was gone, devoured by a sharper, cleaner rage.
Because she knew exactly who he was.
Lucian of the DreadFang Circle Pack. The heir with a mate he wouldn't acknowledge. Three pups already born—and still he slept with anything that breathed. A harem full of bed warmers. A future tyrant.
And her father had invited him to claim her?
She clenched her fists and met his gaze.
"Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror?" she asked, her voice like ice.
He blinked, caught off guard. He was handsome—he knew it. Girls threw themselves at him. But her tone made him falter.
"How dare you think you're a fit mate for me?"
She didn't wait for a response.
She shoved past him and walked away, her rage so loud in her chest it drowned everything else.
Behind her, silence lingered. Then came his voice, cold and venomous.
"You'll regret those words."
She didn't stop walking.
Lucian stood there, watching her fade into the shadows of the corridor. His jaw clenched, his pride wounded.
Then he laughed—low, bitter.
"When Damon wins this rebellion," he muttered to himself, "I'll ask for you. And you'll come crawling to me, begging for my touch."
His lips curled into a cruel smile.
"And when that day comes, I'll make you suffer for that mouth… every single day of your life."
But Danika didn't hear him. Her thoughts were already spiraling elsewhere.
Back to the ceremony.
Back to the moment the heat vanished.
Back to the voice that had claimed her in silence.
"You are mine"
No one had stepped forward. No one had acknowledged the bond.
But part of her—some deep, reckless part—believed it could only be him.
Damon.
Her brother by name. Her last hope.