🦋ALTHEA
My skin sizzled under the pressure of the red-hot brand. White-hot pain exploded across my back, and the scent of my own charring skin filled my lungs. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to scream, wouldn't give them the satisfaction, not while they all watched. I grimaced, clenching down so hard I tasted blood as my gums split.
The birds above circled closer.
"Althea Nocturne, the fifth and final tribute." The High Gamma's voice cut through the silence, her hardened gaze scalding me like the brand itself. "Of the High Alpha."
Dread wrapped around my neck like a noose, and breathing turned into a struggle.
A tribute.
A sacrifice to the High Alpha in exchange for the pack's protection from the Red Mist just beyond our borders.
I raised my head slowly, skin crawling under the weight of their stares. The platform held all five of us tributes on display, a spectacle for the pack's judgment.
There was no mercy in their eyes. Omegas didn't deserve mercy—not in Hollowhowl, not in any of the allied packs. Especially not omegas accused of treason.
No one would mourn us. The tithing was as natural as breathing, as inevitable as the moon's phases. The dregs of the pack, sacrificed so the rest could live.
They never called it a sacrifice. That would require honesty.
The chains that bound the tributes together weighed a ton, but still they rattled from our trembling.
Of all the gazes present, none cut more than the High Gamma's. How could a mother tear her gaze away from her daughter before she was led to the slaughter? Even if she saw me as nothing but a stain on the Nocturne name.
Maybe a part of her cold, dead heart still beat for me.
Hope was a cruel friend. It refused to flee even as everything turned to ash and made every lash and cut sting harder.
At least Wren would be alright. That had to count for something.
I smiled wryly, and my mother's face only hardened. She raised her voice, the same words she spoke every Harvest Moon. "The five tributes have been chosen. They go willingly to serve the High Alpha, whose divine power shields us from the Red Mist and her Nightmares. We honor their sacrifice. By the moon."
The pack echoed in unison: "By the moon!"
I gritted my teeth. By my ass, I wanted to scream, but I was sure they'd pull my teeth out again.
"Alpha Draven." My mother's voice cut through the chorus.
My spine straightened instantly at the mere mention of his name. Oh, treacherous heart of mine, still aching for the man who trampled on it. I could feel his eyes boring into my back, where my mate mark still remained. The one we shared.
"Second only to the High Alpha himself. Hollowhowl's savior, the—"
Gods, I was going to be sick. If only they knew, but what good were the words of a murderess?
When my mother had finished stroking his ego, I felt him rise. "Hollowhowl," he addressed them. "Yet another Harvest Moon has come." His voice was soft, only tipping toward the authoritative, dancing at its edges. Everything about him made him lovable.
I forced back the memories and echoes of the promises he whispered against my skin after I made him Alpha, after I saved the pack.
"And this year—" I knew he was looking right at me. "—we have a traitor amongst the tributes, none other than Althea Nocturne."
The murmurs of disapproval rippled through the pack.
"So tonight I offered leniency by giving her the honor of joining the tributes." His voice took on a somber tone. "Though nothing she does can bring back my heir, my child..." His voice cracked, perfectly timed. "But this is the noble way."
My stomach twisted into knots, the chains binding me seeming to dig even deeper into my flesh. The other tributes shifted away from me. I remained an outcast among outcasts.
I tuned out his voice because every lie was another lash on my already scarred back. I wanted this to end. I gazed up, smiling at the birds circling even closer.
Good. They were all here.
Beyond the woods that surrounded this designated clearing, I could feel them watching and waiting. They wanted nothing more than to strike. They stayed as still as they could manage, agitated.
I tuned back into Draven's voice; at the wrong moment, because I heard him speak her name.
"My darling wife, Luna Circe, will give the tributes their final farewell." The sound of careful footsteps made me shake. I bit down on my tongue hard enough to draw more blood.
My half-sister stepped in front of us, in front of me. Her hair was wavy midnight black, a complete contrast to the silver strands of mine that stuck to my clammy face.
Her expression remained gentle, contrite almost but I knew better. I could still feel her nails digging into my skin. "May the Moon Goddess guide your way," she whispered, looking from one person to the other.
I caught the gleam in her eyes when her gaze landed on me, before she quickly killed it. Her blue eyes lingered on me, expression theatrically downcast. "I forgive you for what you took from me." She cradled her belly. "I hope you can forgive yourself."
They applauded her.
I ground my teeth, trying not to snarl.
She raised her head to the Vargans who held our chains—they too chains of their own. "Vargans, escort them to the border.
I watched as the Vargans lifted the chains. The silver marks all Vargans were born with shimmered in the moonlight as their bodies flexed to pull the heavy chains.
One of them was young. I recognized him; Thal. He'd snuck me food sometimes, even though the Vargans barely had any to eat. His legs shook as he lifted the chains. A single mistake and he would be mauled.
I rose to my feet, pulling the chains with me as my buckling knees fought against the weight.
He caught my eye and gave me a small smile.
He would die here.
They led us down from the platform, everyone watching, muttering obscenities under their breath as we passed. The brand stung with every movement.
I gritted my teeth as we made our way into the dense foliage.
The birds circling above lowered even more.
And as I managed to raise my head, I could see amber eyes glinting in the darkness.
No, no, no... I thought. Not now.
But it was no use. Chaos erupted in a heartbeat as a growling pack of wolves burst from the treeline; racing straight at me.