I lay on my bed, facing the wall. Josh, my stepbrother, my Alpha, had one arm wrapped possessively around my stomach, while the other stroked my long black hair. Every touch sent a shiver down my spine, not of passion, but of dread. I said nothing, did nothing, barely breathed, terrified of agitating him further. My back still stung from the long, painful sessions of cuts and beatings I'd endured earlier. It was a constant, searing reminder of his dominance, of my powerlessness. Beneath the physical pain, I could feel my wolf's unease, a primal fear stirring within me, a desperate urge to lash out, to break free, but I stifled it, knowing the consequences.
"You know what to do tomorrow, right?" Josh's hand, once a gentle caress, stopped on the crown of my head. Slowly, insidiously, he began to increase his grip, his knuckles pressing into my scalp. My mind was a chaotic battlefield. Tomorrow. The sacred Mating Ceremony. The word itself tasted like ash in my mouth. Instead of being a happy occasion that most felt, to me, it felt like walking to my death.
He yanked my hair back, his grip tightening cruelly. "Cassy!" he growled, the sound vibrating through me, a predator's raw assertion of ownership. I winced, my breath catching in my throat. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I forced them back. Showing weakness would only invite more pain.
"Yes, Alpha," I managed to choke out, the words feeling like poison on my tongue. A wave of relief washed over me as his hand stopped its brutal assault on my hair, returning to its possessive stroke. Yet, it was a hollow relief, a surrender. Josh let out a soft breath behind me, his other hand tightening on my waist, anchoring me to this grim reality. I had to find a way out, to protect myself, to protect my wolf.
The annual Mating Ceremony is where all wolves over the age of 18 are required to attend. It is a special event where the female picks the mate of their choice. All male wolves are required to show up an hour early and take a seat leaving empty spots next to them. When the females arrive, they chose who they want to mate by sitting in the empty spot next to the male. Of course, a male could stop a female from sitting next to them, and if a female doesn't like any of the options, they are free to sit with their parents instead of picking a partner. It was a long-standing tradition that the original Alpha King, a few hundred years ago, created to help increase the werewolf population.
Three hundred years ago, the werewolf population was on the brink of extinction. The world as we know it was changed forever due to the Great War, a conflict that saw the supernatural races locked in a brutal struggle for dominance. The vampires, once a formidable force, were nearly annihilated by humanity's relentless pursuit. In turn, the humans faced devastating losses against the other races, leading to a brutal cycle of retaliation. The sheer scale of destruction threatened to unravel the very fabric of existence. It was only after centuries of bloodshed and devastation that a fragile peace was brokered through the signing of a monumental treaty. This treaty effectively ended the open warfare, ushering in an era where supernatural beings no longer had to hide in the shadows. While overt conflict subsided, a tense coexistence emerged, marked by lingering resentments and the occasional flare-up of racial animosity, often manifesting as casual slurs between species.
When the war finally ended, the wolf population had plummeted to a mere few thousand. The devastating losses meant that many fated mates, those fated, were among the fallen. In the aftermath, a profound despair settled upon the remaining wolves. The concept of a fated mate, once a sacred bond, felt like a cruel mockery in a world where so many had been severed from their destined partners. The desire to embrace a chosen mate, a bond forged by personal preference rather than destiny, grew stronger, but the population continued its decline. It was during this darkest hour that Alpha Barron, a visionary leader, united the scattered and demoralized packs, forging them into a singular entity and proclaiming himself the first Alpha King. To combat the dwindling numbers and the loss of hope, he instituted the Mating Ceremony. Now, three centuries later, the werewolf population has rebounded, swelling into the millions. The notion of fated mates has faded into the realm of myth and legend, a quaint tale whispered by elders. While the original Alpha family still holds sway, ruling over the largest and most influential pack, numerous smaller, independent packs have emerged across the globe, forming their own unique communities and traditions.
However, even without the fear of the race dying out, the tradition holds. Most packs now just hold their own individual mating ceremony as having one wouldn't be enough for all the unmated wolves out there. And Josh my step-brother saw this as the opportunity to shackle me to him forever.
The Mating Ceremony is a sacred tradition. When two wolves choose each other, no one else is allowed to tear them apart. Josh wanted to use this to force everyone to accept me as his mate. If I sit down next to him tomorrow, and he doesn't stop me. Then no one would be allowed to stop it. Even with us being brother and sister by law, it wouldn't matter, because the mating ceremony trumped all.
Josh has also made it clear that in no uncertain terms, if I sit with anyone else. He would kill them and claim me as his own, just like his father did to my mother. Josh couldn't stop me from mating anyone else, but if my mate died, I would be free to remate anyone and wouldn't have to go through the ceremony again.
Alpha David Blackwater, a formidable 43-year-old werewolf standing 6'3" with impeccably styled dirty blond hair and piercing brown eyes, shattered my world by brutally murdering my father and then claiming my mother, branding her as his own.
Our idyllic family picnic in the park was violently interrupted by the arrival of Alpha David and his son, Josh. Upon his first glance at my mother, Alpha David's decision was immediate and final. Without a moment's hesitation, he tore into my father's throat. Before my mother or I could even attempt to flee, he marked her, a horrific act witnessed by all, staining the very ground beside my father's lifeless body. The other wolves present, paralyzed by fear, simply averted their gazes, offering no protest. My father was denied even a perfunctory burial; instead, Alpha David incinerated our home, consigning my father's remains to the flames.
That very night, my mother and I were forcibly relocated to the Alpha's residence, our identities stripped away and our surname forcibly changed to his. We were forbidden from ever referencing our past life or my father. Josh, then thirteen, a mere three years older, grasped my hand, a seemingly reassuring gesture promising to protect me.
Ravaged by grief and the profound trauma of losing my father, I found solace in Josh's presence. He readily assumed a protective role, showering me with attention and shielding me from further harm. The isolation following my father's demise and my forced integration into the Alpha's household gradually alienated my childhood friends, leaving only Josh as my confidant. I viewed him purely as a brother, a familial bond I had always craved. Yet, unbeknownst to me until it was tragically too late, Josh harbored a far different sentiment, one that transcended any sibling affection.
By the time I entered high school as a freshman, I had become a ghost in the halls. No one wanted to be get close to me, to afraid of the Alpha. This pattern of social isolation continued until a new student, a boy named Liam, joined my English class. He'd relocated with his family, and an immediate, unspoken connection sparked between us. Despite my ingrained apprehension about forming bonds, his continued presence gave me a flicker of hope. He was my first crush, and first real friend. When Josh discovered our budding friendship, everything shattered.
Josh had orchestrated a cruel trap, luring Liam to our home. There, he subjected Liam to a savage beating, forcing me to be a helpless witness to the brutal assault. My pleas to Josh, my desperate attempts to intervene, were met with cold indifference. He declared I needed to witness the consequences of choosing another over him, a chilling pronouncement that branded my innocence with a permanent scar.
My attempts to resist Josh and steer clear of him only fueled his rage. His aggression escalated, beginning with a hit here or there, progressing to lashing out with a whip, and ultimately resulting in shallow wounds inflicted upon my skin. Each injury served as a brand, a desperate attempt to claim me in a way he physically could not. Among wolves, a heightened sense allowed them to discern an individual's "purity"; my impurity would render me ineligible for the Mating Ceremony, thus barring me from being claimed as his intended mate.
Yet, his inability to claim my virginity did not deter him from asserting his claim through unwanted contact and kisses. Now, every caress and every glance from him evoked a profound sense of revulsion within me. I found myself wishing for the whip over his touches.
My only option was to get a mate from a visiting pack. If I did that, he couldn't do anything and I would be forced to leave the pack with the mate and be out of Josh's hands. But the thought of leaving my mother, the only home I've ever known, filled me with a paralyzing fear. I prayed to the moon goddess, not just to let me leave this place, but to somehow grant me the strength to make this impossible choice.