Clementine:
"Catch this she-wolf and bring her to Alpha William!"
The royal beta's voice roared through the air like thunder. My body shuddered at the realization of how close they had come to catching me. My knees gave out. I was gasping for air.
I had been running for an hour, away from my worries, away from my bullies, from my stepmother and stepsister, and from my alpha father. If I don't, I would be dead.
"Ugh!" A painful cry escaped my lips when an arrow laced with wolfsbane grazed my thigh, and something wet began to drip down my baggy jeans.
'Come on, wolf. We have to get out of here,' I tried hyping up my wolf, but it was useless. The poison started to take effect. Another arrow struck me in the shoulder from behind. I dropped to my knees in pain.
Just then, it happened.
My wolf went silent. The wolfsbane knocked her out, and now all that was left was the human me, fighting against the pack.
I crawled on my knees, grunting in pain. My father's warriors surrounded me.
"You thought you could run away? How stupid can you be?" Beta Ross knelt beside me and yanked me up by my hair.
"I will not sacrifice myself for you—or for any werewolf!" I hissed, spitting in his face. That pissed him off.
He earned the royal beta title after ass-kissing my father for a while. Flattering his way to a position of power like a whore.
I hated the alphas and betas. I hated packs.
I couldn't go rogue. I was desperate with no options left. I was going to be sent to the North to be a crusader. To fight monsters.
"Take her to her father. He's waiting," the royal beta threw me to the warriors who dragged me by my hair back to the packhouse.
They dragged me through the hallway for all to see.
The first floor was for omegas and deltas, the second for the royal gamma, gammas, and betas. Lastly, the third floor was for the alpha—his family and the royal beta's family.
They dragged me all the way to the top like a slave. No one helped. They all just stared.
"Ugh," I grunted when they threw me onto the couch.
"You are a disgrace," My father seethed, sitting in his high chair, wine glass in hand. "You ruined our family name when you ran away like a coward."
His gray eyes narrowed with disappointment. Nothing I wasn't used to.
"Call me whatever you want. I'm not your warrior," I protested, rolling my eyes. A warrior grabbed the arrow from my shoulder and pulled it out.
Blood splattered everywhere, and my screams echoed through the big hall.
My stepmother snickered, "Look at her. She looks like a boy in those clothes." She always had a problem with how I dressed and acted.
I liked what I wore. It made me invisible. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, especially from an Alpha.
"And she always wears that hat to cover her noodle hair," my stepsister added, sticking a finger in her mouth to fake a gag at my naturally curly red hair.
Leysa, my half-sister. She was always proper and polished. The perfect daughter in their eyes.
Sadly, the world was messed up.
Every alpha had four or more fated mates. Four Lunas, all fighting for the attention of the mate they shared.
"I say we send her to the academy as a Crusader for North. Every pack has to send a warrior anyway," Glinda suggested, resting her hand on the back of my father's.
"Look at Leysa. She's ready to be a Luna. Every Alpha wants to marry her. Keeping Clementine will ruin things. It's in everyone's best interest to send her to the academy. She might actually be useful there," She continued to yap, afraid my father might change his mind.
"I would rather die than fight for any of you in the North," I spat on the ground, watching Leysa flinch like I had dropped a bomb.
North.
Another disaster.
Giants and ogres attacked a northern pack and soon took over the whole region. Other creatures followed, and people feared they might conquer the world. To fight back, the academy trained crusaders from every pack and sent them north, replacing those who had fallen.
"Your stepmother is right. You serve no purpose here. Nobody wants you. It's better for you to die a hero than stay here and become the whore you seem destined to be," my father said coldly.
"Well, you'll have to drag me to that academy then, Father," I said, getting up, drenched in my own blood, and limped back to my room in the attic.
My stepmother never hid her disdain for me. She would never let me become the Alpha. So, she treated me like trash. In return, I grew up stubborn, angry, and defiant.
That night, I cleaned my own wounds and bandaged myself, lying on the window sill and looked up at the sky that had turned red.
Every time the creatures killed civilians in the North, or whoever was still hiding and alive, the sky turned red.
I'm not a hero. I didn't want to be one.
I just wanted to enjoy my life, not become an alpha, or someone's fifth or sixth wife or mate.
As my eyes grew heavy and I started to drift off, I heard a click at the door. I felt someone step inside. My reflexes kicked in. I reached under my pillow to grab my knife. But they were faster.
They grabbed me.
I opened my eyes to see men in black, long coats, faces covered in ski masks, holding my arms and legs.
"Let me go!" I screamed, kicking and swinging my fists, but they were strong, and clearly sent to take me away.
Fear consumed me. Who were these men? What did they want?
But the real shock came when they dragged me all the way down to the first floor, and I saw everyone just standing there, watching me struggle.
"Help me! I'm your alpha's daughter. Fucking stop them!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. Then, I saw my father standing with my stepmother, both holding wine glasses.
"You said we'd have to drag you out," he said calmly. "Well, happy eighteenth birthday. I'd hope you come back a martyr— or not at all."
My father's words would haunt me forever.
These men weren't kidnappers.
It was the Lurkers, the guardians from the academy, sent to take me by force.