Selene
I pressed a damp cloth to my mother's fevered brow, whispering a forbidden charm. Each spark of magic cost me a toll I knew I'd have to pay later, but I couldn't stop now. Not when her life hung by a thread. Her breath rattled in the small bed we'd tucked her into as sweat stuck her dark hair to her cheeks.
Her glassy eyes fluttered open once before sleep claimed her again. I squeezed her hand, willing her to hold on just a little bit longer.
I lingered with my hand resting against hers until the sound of voices reached me. They came muffled at first, drifting from my father's study at the end of the hall. One voice I immediately recognized as his, loud as always, but today it carried that sly bite of someone bargaining. The other was deeper, and held a predator's claim I couldn'tquite recognize.
I froze in the doorway with my fingers still pressed to my mother's wrist. Father wasn't supposed to entertain anyone this late. The hour was almost midnight and the fire in the hearth was nearly spent. Such secrecy meant trouble, especially for a family hiding witch blood in a land ruled by wolves.
I held my breath as I tiptoed into the hall, each board groaning beneath my bare feet.
"…my Alpha doesn't enjoy prolonging such matters," the stranger was saying. His words carried a strange finality, as if any contradiction invited death. "The contract will bind your house for five years as his mate. No more. No less. She'll bear his heirs, warm his bed, and serve the pack's will. In return, your debts vanish. The manor stays yours. Noble standing for the Duskbane name."
Five years. I stopped walking and crouched behind the door to listen.
Father chuckled nervously, almost sycophantic. "Five years is generous, my lord. Very generous. Most noblemen demand ties for life."
"Alpha Droko has little use for women beyond their youth. He chooses a bride, keeps her for five years, and then severs the bond and takes a fresh virgin bride. It keeps the pack strong and the blood pure. This year, his eye fell on your Tatia. Consider it mercy." The envoy's tone sharpened. "It is not yours to question."
My stomach clenched.
A bride?
I pressed myself against the wall outside the study and braced my palm against peeling plaster as the words settled into me.
Father knew our secrets that could get us all killed. How could he even consider this?
Father's chair scraped. "Of course. No questions. You'll find my daughter… quite suitable."
My lungs froze. Daughter.
There was only one daughter of marriageable age in this house. Me.
I forced a hand over my mouth to stop the gasp that was about to make its way up my throat.
The envoy's boots shifted across the wooden floor. "And you can assure me that she is untouched? Remember Duskbane, Alpha Droko will require purity. Your debts will be cleared upon confirmation of her condition. But if she is found to have been… spoiled…" A heavy pause, then. "…then you will pay dearly for the deception. You and your house will be stripped of name, titles and land."
I nearly gagged on the bile that rose inside me.
Father's laugh was strained and came a little too quick. "No need for worry. I can assure you she is untouched. She'll bring him no shame."
Too late, because shame was already burning across my skin.
I pressed my forehead to the wall, desperate for air. The Alpha's envoy was here, in our home, striking the bargain that would sell me like cattle to a man I'd never met. Five years as his bride. Five years under his claws. Five years trying to smother the truth that I wasn't a wolf at all.
Because if Droko discovered what I was, what we all were, he would not simply sever a bond. He would sever all our heads.
The envoy continued in a brisk tone. "The wedding will be as soon as possible. The Alpha does not enjoy waiting. Tomorrow, I'll return with the bond parchment for you to sign, and she will be taken to the palace to prepare before the week's end."
The words thundered in my skull. Tomorrow.
My father murmured something, words too low to catch, and then the scrape of chairs followed. I darted back toward the kitchen shadows, heart in my throat, just as the study door creaked open.
The envoy emerged, tall and broad-shouldered, his cloak trimmed in silver fur. His hair was black as pitch and his eyes were the sharp pale gold of a wolf, which meant he was the Alpha's trustes beta. He glanced down the hall once as suspicion flashed in his gaze. I held still in the darkness, hardly breathing until the front door shut and his boots crunched against the gravel outside.
Only then did I let the air out of my chest.
I stayed there for a while, curled against the wall as the conversation replayed in my mind like a nightmare I couldn't wake from. Chosen. Five years. Sever the bond. My hands shook as I pushed myself up, legs numb, and descended the stairs.
I didn't wait. I stormed into the study.
Father sat slumped in his chair, already pouring himself another cup of wine. His hands trembled just enough to rattle the cup against the table. His eyes lifted, and when he saw me, they hardened.
"You shouldn't be out of bed," he muttered while avoiding my eyes.
I crossed my arms, voice steady despite the storm inside me. "Who was that? And what the gods' name did he mean, I'm marrying Droko Thornveil?"
He set his glass down slowly. "Sit down."
My voice cracked. "You sold me."
His lips pressed thin. "It's done."
"No." I shook my head, stepping further inside as the stale heat of the room wrapped around me. "I won't marry him."
He rose the cup to his lips and took a slow sip. "You will."
"You can't–"
"Don't you dare tell me what I can and cannot do, girl." His eyes blazed with something dark and cornered. "Do you think I asked for this? Do you think I want to hand you to that beast?"
"Then why?" My voice pitched higher, sharp with panic. "Why would you? You know what I am. You know what we all are."
His gaze snapped toward the door, then back at me and whispered. "Keep your voice down."
I ignored him, the words rushing out. "We're not wolves, Father. None of us. You've made us hide our whole lives, kept us tucked away in this decaying house, far from any pack, so no one would notice. And now you expect me to go into his palace, into the very heart of wolves, and fool them all?" My hands shook as fury and fear collided within me. "Do you want me dead?"
Father surged to his feet and slammed his fist against the table. "I want us alive!" His roar silenced me, shuddering through the walls. "The debts are crushing us, Tatia. Do you want your sisters starving? Do you want your mother to rot in that bed because I cannot buy her medicine?"
Tears stung my eyes. "So you sell me instead?"
"You are the eldest," he snapped. "Your duty is to your family."
I stared at him, breath shaking. "My duty will kill me."
Hesitation flashed over his face for a brief moment, then his gaze hardened again. "You'll find a way. You always do. Your mother and I have taught you well over the years. Weave up some potions and make yourself pass for one of them."
"Easy for you to say." I stopped, facing him. "You've never had to brew those scents alone, praying they hold. One slip, and they'll know what I am. And then they'll come for all of us."
The door to the kitchen creaked, and my mother appeared, leaning on the frame, her nightgown hanging loose on her frail frame. Her eyes were sunken but determined. "Tatia's right, Garrick. It's too dangerous."
He rounded on her. "And starving is safe? The twins need food. We can barely afford medicine for you. We're drowning in a mountain of debt and this contract wipes all of that clean. Five years, Elara. Then she's free."
Mother coughed, pressing a hand to her chest. "Free? After bearing his children and getting marked by his bond? You really call that free, Garrick"
I moved to her side, supporting her elbow. "See? Even Mama knows. I won't do it."
The twins' door upstairs opened and soft footsteps begun padding down. Lira and Kael, my twelve-year-old shadows, peeked into the room with wide eyes. Lira clutched her brother's hand.
"Papa," she whispered, "is it true? Tatia has to go?"
Father's jaw tightened but he said nothing.
The silence was answer enough.
But Lira's lip quivered. "You can't go. Who'll make the potions? Who'll tell us bedtime stories?"
Father's voice cracked the air. "Enough of this! Tatia, take a good look at them. Look at your mother. We need the money and you're the only one who can pass close enough. Five years, that's all we ask. Survive it, and we're saved."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "It's suicide."
Mother's hand squeezed mine then. I looked up and all I could see was the sadness in her gaze. "I wish there was another way, child. But your father's right. We barely have enough left to last us past the summer." She looked down, unable to meet my eyes, "I hate that we have to ask this of you. But there simply isn't any other way. If not for us, do it for your them."
She gestured to Lila and Kael.
I opened my mouth to refuse again, the words right there, burning. But my gaze followed her finger to the twins huddled together, their small faces pleading. Then it drifted back to her face with her hollow cheeks and labored breath. I looked at the vials of medicine on the table, half-empty because we couldn't pay for more.
It was just five years not forever. Just long enough to fix this mess.
If I refused, we would all be ruined.
If I accepted, I might not survive.
I faced Father again, my voice low, steady though my insides trembled. "Fine. I'll do it."
Relief softened his shoulders for the briefest moment. Then he leaned close, his breath hot with wine, and hissed into my ear.
"Remember, Tatia. If Droko learns what you are, he'll burn us all alive."