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Chapter 1: Rejected

ELIRA

The smile never left my lips as I packed the last of my clothes into my worn-out luggage. I set it down on the wooden floor, it was light since I didn’t really have many things to bring. I only packed the clothes that once belonged to my late mother and my journal.

My fingers gently brushed the necklace I never took off, and I looked around the small attic room that had been my home for the past eighteen years after my father put me here when I was five years old.

The attic was cramped, with wooden floors full of holes, and the slanted ceilings made it impossible for me to stand straight in some corners.

There was only a small window on the wall. In the summer, the heat was unbearable, like I was trapped under a stove. And during winter, the chill would seep through the thin walls, biting into my bones no matter how many layers I wore.

But despite its discomfort, I learned to love this little space. It was the only place where I could breathe freely, where silence wrapped around me like a fragile blanket, and no one could tell me I didn’t belong.

But today, I’m leaving this place because I’ve found a man who won’t just take me away from this pack that branded me a curse but one who makes me feel like I belong.

A soft laugh escaped my lips as I remembered Kael’s words before he left a week ago. He said—

"Pack your things, Elira. When I return, you’ll never have to spend another night in this attic again. You’ll be mine, and I’ll make sure the world knows it."

His voice still echoed in my memory, full of promises I never thought someone would make for someone like me.

I snapped out of my reverie when a loud knock came at the door. I was just about to open it when someone beat me to it.

It was Gina, one of my father’s servants, standing there with a judgmental stare, eyeing me from head to toe.

Her gaze made me uncomfortable, as always.

The dress I wore was a gift from my stepsister, Lorelei.

I was genuinely surprised when she handed it to me last night, claiming it was her way of apologizing for everything she had done to me. I didn’t know whether to believe her, but I accepted it nonetheless. It was the first time she'd given me something without sneering.

"Is... Kael already downstairs?" I asked quietly, clutching the hem of the dress.

She smirked and gave a slight nod. “Yes, he is, Elira. He’s been waiting for you.”

Gina’s tone was drenched in mockery, as always.

The servants in this house never treated me with kindness, especially ones like Gina. They wore their disdain-like armor, never missing a chance to look down on me, to whisper insults just loud enough for me to hear.

Even though I’m the daughter of their master, to them, I was never more than the cursed omega, the shame of the family. They took pleasure in reminding me of it every chance they got, from cruel jabs to petty acts of sabotage.

But not today.

Today, I wouldn’t let their scorn reach me.

Because Kael was waiting, and I was finally leaving.

I turned my back on Gina, grabbed my luggage, and looked at my room for one last time.

Goodbye...

As I walked down the hallway following Gina, I didn't know why I suddenly felt nervous. The way my pack people looked at me then whispered to each other. It didn't sit well with me.

I was used to it, but it was different this time.

But I calmed myself, of course, they would be talking about me.

Branded as a cursed omega after my mother and brother died because of me, I was shunned and bullied by them since my father hated me.

So, it was really a surprise when Kael, the future Alpha king of the Ashgrave pack, took an interest in me and asked for my hand to be his Luna.

It happened during the last full moon run when I secretly joined it despite my father's warning to me.

That night, under the silver light of the moon, I met Kael. Our eyes met, and in an instant, the air shifted, thick with tension and something unspoken. My body reacted before I could even understand what was happening.

We were a match.

I had found my mate. 

The very thing Lorelei said I would never have, because I’m a cursed omega.

But I never really expected anything from it. I thought he would reject me the moment he found out who I was.

That I am Elira Wynter—the cursed daughter of Alpha Marik of the Hollow Pack.

A once-respected pack known for its healers and seers has now fallen into disgrace after a series of tragedies tied to me. I became the reason some packs see us as a “broken pack.”

But Kael didn’t believe any of it. He accepted me. He promised I would be his Luna, and he refused to believe the things they said about me.

He fought for me. He didn’t care what his pack thought. Everyone expected him to choose Lorelei as his Luna, but he chose me.

And now... I thought I was finally going to be free from this pack.

Or so I believed.

How could I forget that I was cursed? That I was meant to lead a lonely, miserable life. That I was destined to be hated, to be bullied for being a weak omega who brings tragedy to anyone who dares to care for me… or love me.

I was already halfway down the stairs when I saw Kael… with them.

My father, Marik. My stepmother, Laura. And my stepsister, Lorelei, whose arms were looped around Kael’s, practically hugging him.

What’s happening?

The way Lorelei looked at me, as if she had won some twisted prize, and the coldness in Kael’s eyes as he stared at me made me want to turn around, run back upstairs, and pray that this was all just a nightmare.

“What are you doing standing there? I told you, he’s been waiting for you,” Gina snapped, yanking me down the stairs so hard I nearly stumbled.

My hands trembled, too weak to hold the weight of my luggage. It slipped from my grip and tumbled down the steps, bursting open when it hit the floor. My clothes spilled out, my mother’s clothes scattered like forgotten remnants of a life I thought I was about to leave behind.

I pulled my arm from Gina’s grip and rushed down the stairs. Dropping to my knees, I gathered my scattered belongings, clutching them as if someone might take them away from me.

Then I saw a pair of shoes stop in front of me.

I looked up—and there he was.

Kael. Staring down at me, his eyes void of emotion.

So different from the man who once looked at me with warmth, with the kind of love I had always longed for.

I tightened my grip on the last piece of clothing I owned. My lips trembled, but I still managed to smile up at him.

“Kael… j-just wait a second. I—”

Lorelei’s laugh cut me off.

“Wait for you? Why would Kael wait for you—”

“Enough, Lei,” he said sharply.

“But Kael—”

“Let me handle this.” His voice was cold, unreadable.

Then he looked at me again. “Stand up, Elira. I have something to say to you.”

Kael's jaw clenched as I slowly stood, still holding the dress in my hands like it could somehow hold me together.

He stared at me like I was a burden he had to address.

"I came here to tell you... I won't take you as my Luna. I won't marry you."

My heart thudded painfully. "W-What?"

His eyes reddened. "You're a curse, Elira. I should've listened to everyone from the start—"

Tears pricked at my eyes. I dropped the dress and reached for his hand. "Kael, no. Please. W-we... we're a match. I'm your mate—"

"That was a mistake!" he snapped, yanking his hand away as if my touch repulsed him. "I should've rejected you right then! You bring misfortune, Elira. My mother... s-she's dying after being attacked by rogues—something that has never happened to our pack until now!"

I gasped, my eyes darting to my father, who looked at me with the same coldness that haunted me since childhood. It reminded me of the past—how he blamed me for my mother and brother’s deaths.

"I-I... I'm sorry, but Kael, I—"

"And why didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t be able to bear a child? Were you trying to make me lose my throne by hiding the fact that you couldn’t give me an heir?"

"N-No... what are you talking about?"

Kael gripped my chin tightly. "Your sister told me you’re infertile—"

"No! T-That's not true. I had an accident, but the doctor said it would just be hard for me to carry, not impossible—"

"Oh, come on, Elira. Enough with your lies!" Lorelei said, stepping forward, her hand possessively wrapping around Kael’s arm. “You poor, delusional thing,” she said, tilting her head as if she pitied me. “Did you really think someone like you deserved someone like Kael?”

I trembled, my mouth slightly open, but no words came out.

She smirked. “You’re pathetic. Always clinging to people who never wanted you. You should pity Kael, Elira. He almost ruined his life because of you.”

“Lorelei, stop,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

But she didn’t. She leaned closer to me. “If you really loved him, you’d know when to let go. You’d walk away. You’d disappear from his life before your curse drags him down even further.”

My heart cracked open, every word slicing deeper. I turned to Kael, hoping, praying, for even a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Something that would tell me this wasn’t really him.

But he looked away.

I couldn’t breathe.

My knees gave out, and I found myself on the cold floor.

"You said you loved me… you promised you’d fight for me... but I was wrong."

I looked up at them and smiled despite the pain, despite the tears flowing down my cheeks.

"If you t-think rejecting me will lift some curse off your shoulders, then fine. But y-you’re not the only one who made a mistake here, Kael. I did, too, by t-trusting you."

"Oh, shut up! Just reject her, Kael!" Lorelei snapped.

Kael looked at me, and I closed my eyes as he said the words I never thought I’d hear from him.

"I, Kael Draven, Alpha of the Ashgrave Pack, reject you, Elira Wynter, as my mate."

I stood slowly, shoulders squared despite the ache in my chest. “I, Elira Wynter, daughter of Alpha Marik of the Hollow Pack, accept your rejection.”

A searing pain bloomed in my heart, sharp and immediate, as if the bond between us had been violently severed.

I gasped, clutching my chest as a guttural sob escaped my lips. My wolf whimpered inside me, her cries echoing through my mind, lost and broken.

Chapter 2: Darius Vane

ELIRA

I woke up to the familiar smell of old wood, sunlight streaming through the small window facing my tiny bed in the attic room.

For a second, just a second, I almost convinced myself it was all just a nightmare.

That I hadn’t fallen to my knees, nearly begging Kael. That he didn’t look at me like I was nothing. That he hadn’t said those words… those cruel words I thought I was already used to, just not from the man I loved.

But when I tried to sit up, the weight of my body felt foreign… heavy. It wasn’t the kind of pain I was used to, the bruises or stinging cuts from people who hated me. This was different. Like something inside me had been ripped out.

I raised my hand to brush away the strands of hair stuck to my damp face.

That’s when I saw it.

My finger was bare.

The ring Kael gave me was gone.

My lips curled into a bitter smile as tears slipped from the corners of my eyes.

I laughed, but not the kind of laugh I imagined I’d have after Kael took me away from this miserable place. After the wedding, he’d promised me.

It was supposed to be today. He was supposed to marry me… take me as his Luna.

But this is it.

This is my reality.

Kael rejected me. He left me.

And here I am again, in this suffocating attic room. The air felt heavier than usual, not just from the heat trapped beneath the slanted roof but because something inside me had shattered.

The bond was gone.

I curled into myself, hugging my arms tightly.

I had nothing left.

No mate. No future. No place I belonged.

Yet when I pressed a hand to my chest, I could still feel it, my heartbeat. I was still alive.

But why?

Why am I still here?

What is my purpose in this world?

I don’t even have any power, nothing like my mother, Luna Eloisa, or my father, Alpha Marik.

I couldn’t heal. I wasn’t a seer. All I could ever do was bring misfortune to anyone who tried to be close to me… or love me.

Just like Kael.

Or my grandmother Helga, who died the day she held me in her arms, trying to take me away from this place.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall with a bang that echoed through the attic.

I flinched.

Standing in the doorway was the last person I expected to see—Alpha Marik. My father.

My breath caught in my throat. I couldn't remember the last time he had come into this room. Maybe when I was a child… when he first threw me up here, locking me away from the rest of the world. From his new family.

“F-Father…” I whispered.

His cold, unreadable eyes swept over me. We shared those eyes, gray, sharp, and constantly shifting color under sunlight. But that was the only thing we had in common. I looked more like my mother, Eloisa, with delicate features and pale skin that had only grown paler from being hidden away too long.

“Fix yourself,” he said, voice like ice. “You're so weak. It’s been a day, and you’re only getting up now?”

His Beta, Callum, stepped inside behind him and dropped a large box on the floor beside my bed. I looked at it, confused, my fingers twitching as curiosity tugged at me. Slowly, I leaned forward and opened it.

Inside was a white dress. The fabric shimmered faintly, even in the dim light of the attic. Nestled beside it was a red velvet box. I opened it to find a tiara glinting in the light.

It was beautiful. Regal. Nothing like the rags I’d grown used to.

“W-What is this, Father?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He gave a short, mocking chuckle. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s your wedding dress, Elira.”

My eyes widened. “W-What? My wedding dress? I’m going to get married? Did Kael—did Kael change his mind?”

For a fleeting second, hope flickered in my chest. A smile almost escaped me. Maybe… maybe he came to his senses. Maybe—

Alpha Marik’s laughter cut through my thoughts like a knife. It was loud, cruel, and sharp with mockery.

“You were already rejected by him, Elira,” he said. “Have you forgotten that?”

I blinked. My mouth went dry.

“Wear that,” he said, nodding to the box. “Don’t take too long. He's waiting for you.”

I stared at him, dread curling in my stomach. “W-Who are you talking about, Father?”

My father started walking toward me, the wooden floor creaking with every step. It didn’t even take him a second to reach me, given how small my room was.

He smiled, but instead of feeling comforted, I felt a chill run down my spine. His eyes told a different story.

“I’m talking about the Kingdom of Vane. The Lycan King, Darius Vane.”

A gasp escaped my lips. I dropped the tiara I was holding as my hands began to tremble. “W-Why is he waiting for me—”

“You’re being dumb again, Elira,” my father said, cutting me off. “It’s your wedding dress, and he’s waiting for you. That means you’re going to marry Darius Vane.”

I understood. I knew exactly what he meant… but no. I couldn’t accept it.

The Lycan King, Darius Vane.

Just hearing his name made my insides twist. My heart pounded in fear as memories of whispered stories came rushing back... stories I’d overheard from the pack.

He was ruthless. Cruel. Being sent to his kingdom was considered a punishment. A brutal one. They said it was better to be thrown in a cell than to be sent there.

His kingdom was powerful, wealthy, and feared by all the packs, but going there was as good as a death sentence.

With my lips trembling, I looked up at my father and asked, “W-Why would he choose me as his wife? For what? You must be mistaken—”

My words barely left my lips when my father’s hand shot out and gripped my chin tightly, forcing me to meet his eyes. My breath caught. His touch wasn’t out of affection, it never had been. It was punishment.

“I’m not mistaken, Elira,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “He was looking for a wife. I offered you. And he accepted. Why are you acting so surprised? Do you think someone from our pack isn’t good enough for a king?” He sneered. “We are the Hollow Pack, a respected lineage. This is an honor.”

But you never even treated me as part of this pack.

I didn’t say it aloud. I didn’t need to. I had forgotten one crucial, damning truth. Alpha Marik could read minds the moment you locked eyes with him. And mine had betrayed me again.

His grip tightened, and before I could look away, his hand slid down from my chin to my neck.

I choked on my next breath.

“F-Father…” I gasped, my fingers weakly trying to pull his hand away.

His eyes, identical to mine in color but never in warmth, bore into me without remorse.

“No matter how much I hated you, Elira…” he began, “you are still part of this pack. Whether I like it or not, you carry my blood. And now… you’ll finally serve a purpose.”

He leaned closer, his words a poisonous whisper against my skin. “You should be thankful that Darius Vane accepted you as his wife. Do you even realize what that means for this pack? For me?”

His hand released me at last, and I crumpled to the floor, coughing and holding my throat, tears blurring my vision.

“At least now,” he continued with a hollow laugh, “you’ll be useful, even just this once.”

His following words struck deeper than any wound.

“Take this as your payment for taking away my beloved Luna… and my son.”

I froze.

I had been sentenced for a crime I never committed... punished for surviving.

He turned away from me like I was nothing more than a broken object that had finally found some worth.

And in that moment, I understood.

I would never be married off for peace. Or alliance. Or love.

I would be sold as punishment, as retribution, as a way for my father to rid himself of the last reminder of everything he had lost.

And there was no one left to save me.

Not Kael.

Not my mother.

Not even the Goddess who had cursed me with this life.

"Don't test my patience, Elira. Wear that dress and move fast. Don't bring shame to my name. Being a cursed one is already enough!"

I stared at the tiara on the floor, frozen, until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I flinched, expecting it to be my father returning with another cruel word. But when I looked up, it was Callum, my father's Beta.

Of all the wolves in this wretched pack, he was the only one who hadn’t treated me like something to be feared or hated. He never spoke kindly, but he didn’t speak cruelly either. And sometimes, in moments like this, he offered something close to sympathy.

He crouched down beside me. “Just listen to your father, Elira,” he said quietly. “Maybe… maybe this will be better. Better than staying here with us, trapped inside this room, living like a ghost.”

I looked at Callum and saw the quiet pity in his eyes. He was the only one who didn’t look at me with disgust.

“Better?” I whispered, my voice hoarse from my father’s grip just moments ago. “Being handed over to the Lycan King like… like an offering?”

Callum didn’t answer right away. He stood, brushing off invisible dust from his pants.

“Sometimes,” he murmured, “freedom doesn’t look the way we imagined. Sometimes, it looks like something else entirely.”

He didn’t wait for my reply. He turned and walked to the door, pausing only to glance back once.

“He’s waiting, Elira. Don’t make your father come back here again.”

Callum was right. Maybe this is even better to be offered to a ruthless Lycan King. 

After all, there's nothing left for me here.

If I die at his hands, it doesn't matter.

It was quiet. I didn’t see anyone as I stepped out of my room, wearing the dress my father had given me. But the tiara remained in my hands, clutched tightly as I walked down the hallway.

As I approached the top of the staircase, my heartbeat louder in my ears.

Then I saw him.

A man sat on my father’s throne, the center of the grand room below. He leaned back, legs spread in that arrogant way of powerful men. Like he owned everything he saw. Like he belonged everywhere.

Even here.

His posture was relaxed, but the way the pack gathered around him, silent, heads bowed, spoke volumes about who he was. No one dared breathe too loudly. No one moved. They stood like statues in his presence.

I couldn’t see his face. Only his broad shoulders, his dark coat embroidered with silver threads that shimmered faintly under the dim chandelier light.

“Is your daughter just going to stand there and stare at us?”

His voice echoed, deep and sharp.

I jumped slightly, the tiara slipping from my grasp. It clattered onto the step, but I didn’t dare reach for it.

He rose from the chair slowly, deliberately.

Then he turned towards my direction, looking up at me.

And everything in me went still.

“What are you waiting for, Elira Wynter?”

Chapter 3: Cursed Omega

ELIRA

Elira Wynter...

He knows my name. Of course, he knows it—and maybe it’s not just my name he knows.

The way he said it felt like a sentence being handed down.

I took a shaky breath, my legs frozen for a heartbeat longer. Then I descended the steps one by one, the hem of my dress whispering against the stairs. I picked up the tiara but didn’t bother putting it on.

It felt wrong to wear it.

With every step I took toward him, the air grew heavier, as if even the house itself bowed to him.

And when I reached the last step where I stood in front of the man who would become my husband… or my executioner…

I bowed my head.

Not out of respect.

But because I didn’t know how to look him in the eyes without crumbling completely.

“Look at me, Elira,” he commanded, his voice cold and sharp, the kind that demanded obedience and left no room for defiance.

I looked up at him and met his golden eyes.

His face was chiseled and cold, unfeeling and unreadable. His presence was suffocating. He didn’t need to growl or snarl. Power radiated off him like a second skin. It demanded attention… and submission.

He was one of the few men I had ever seen who wasn’t part of our pack. My father didn't even allow me to take a step out of our pack house. I wasn't able to attend school. I only learned how to read and write with Callum occasionally teaching me.

Contrary to how I imagined Darius Vane, ruthless, cruel, monstrous, he didn’t look like that at all. Physically, he was… beautiful. Handsome, like the princes I used to read about in the storybooks Lorelei threw away… and I secretly picked up.

"At least you can follow orders," he said, snapping me out of my reverie.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. There were a dozen things I wanted to say, but my voice was gone, my courage buried beneath years of silence and cold walls.

"Bring her," he ordered, turning his back on me and walking out.

I stiffened. Bring me? Where?

Before I could say a word, a man stepped in front of me. He gave a small smile and bowed his head slightly.

"Hi, I'm Sorin Vane, Beta Lycan of Darius. It's nice to meet you, Elira Wynter."

"Enough with the pleasantries, Sorin. Let’s go," Darius Vane called out, still walking out of our pack’s house.

He didn’t even spare my father a glance, and my father didn’t bother calling him back either.

I looked around the hall. All the pack members stood still, eyes downcast. Not a single one moved. No one dared speak.

It hit me all at once.

There was no saving me. No one would object. No one would step forward.

Not even to say goodbye.

As Sorin gently touched my elbow, I turned to my father. Our eyes met. His arms were crossed, and in that cold stare, he told me everything—Don’t mess this up.

He had already traded me.

His daughter... for power? Favor? Alliance?

I didn’t know. Maybe it was all three.

Then there was Lorelei, smirking at me from the side. She brushed her fingers through her hair, and I saw it.

The ring.

The same one Kael gave me.

I looked away and let the numbness take over.

But as soon as the door opened, the cold air greeted me, sharper than I remembered.

I hesitated. Am I really leaving this pack? This place where my mother gave birth to me... where I last saw her alive. The place that held what few memories I had of her and my brother.

"Elira Wynter," Darius Vane said again, his voice drawing my eyes.

He stood beside a luxurious car, sleek, black, and expensive.

I didn’t even remember ever riding in a car.

"You belong to me now."

I belong to him?

Right. I am. My father has already decided that.

But I'm still curious...why me?

He was about to open his car when I finally found my voice, thin, barely there.

"Why me?" I whispered.

Darius turned his head sharply. His golden eyes locked on me like a predator catching movement in the grass.

He didn’t speak at first. Just stared. Then he moved.

Each step he took toward me was deliberate, slow, and heavy. I instinctively stepped back until I felt Sorin Vane behind me, holding my shoulders, not allowing me to take another step as Darius stopped just inches away from me.

“Oh... so you’re not mute,” he said, voice cold and mocking. “Could’ve fooled me.”

I didn’t respond. My throat had closed up again, strangling whatever answer might have come.

“You want to know why I chose you?” he continued, leaning in just enough for me to feel the heat of his breath against the chill. “Because you’re perfect.”

Me? Perfect?

What does he mean by that--

“Perfect to use. Perfect to break. Perfect because no one will care for you.”

His smile was razor-thin and cruel. “You’re a cursed one. A weak omega, not even her own pack claims. Do you think I’d want someone like you for love? For affection? And that's what I need...someone I wouldn't even dare to like."

I clenched the tiara tighter in my hands, my nails digging into the metal.

“You were chosen,” he said, his voice dropping lower, crueler, “because when I’m done with you, there’ll be no one left to ask where you went. No one to grieve. No one to care.”

Tears blurred my vision. I blinked them away furiously.

Darius closed his eyes briefly, jaw clenching like he was trying to contain something darker inside him. “Your scent... f*ck.”

He opened his eyes again and met mine. “Don’t you dare cry in front of me, Elira Wynter, or you’ll regret it.”

I swallowed hard. The lump in my throat burned like acid. “It already came from y-you,” I whispered, voice shaking. “I’m a cursed one. A-and you’ll still marry me? Aren’t you afraid? My curse brings misfortune to anyone who—”

“I’ll marry you,” he snapped, cutting me off. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever be close to you.”

“A curse? You?” He scoffed, then muttered something under his breath, too low for me to catch. “... it doesn’t scare me. Nothing does… not even a cursed omega like you.”

Chapter 4: Kingdom Vane

Chapter 4: Kingdom Vane

Perfect to use.

Perfect to break.

Someone he wouldn’t even dare to like.

Those words kept echoing in my ears. They were cruel, yet I let out a bitter smile—because even I agreed with Darius Vane.

What he said was the perfect description of me. I guess Kael thinks the same since it was easy for him to reject me, forget all his promises, blame me for something I didn’t even do—or maybe I really did. After all, I was the cursed one.

My eyes drifted to the treehouse outside, where I used to play with my brother, where I last saw my father smiling brightly at me, where my mother read me stories.

It grew smaller and smaller in my vision as the car sped away.

Goodbye...

“You’re hurting yourself.”

I snapped out of my reverie when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. I flinched at the simple touch.

Sorin Vane—beta of Darius Vane—glanced at me with an apologetic smile before returning his eyes to the road.

“Sorry, I had to call out to you. You were holding the tiara too tightly. You’re bleeding, Miss Elira.”

I glanced at my hand as I let go of the tiara I hadn’t even realized I was holding so tightly. Blood trailed down my palm where the sharp edge had cut through my skin. It hurt—but not as much as everything else inside me.

“Here, use this,” Sorin Vane said gently, holding a crisp handkerchief.

I shook my head. It looked far too expensive, the kind of thing I’d be afraid even to touch.

“Thank you, but it’s okay,” I murmured. I reached for a torn strip of my old dress—the same one I’d used to tie my hair—and wrapped it around my bleeding hand.

Sorin sighed, but he didn’t argue. “You should wear that,” he said, nodding at the tiara on my lap.

“It doesn’t suit me,” I whispered, eyes locked on the delicate silver piece. It looked like it belonged to someone else. Someone beautiful, strong, worthy. Not me.

“It’s yours now,” Sorin said. “Darius wouldn’t like it if he didn’t see you wearing it once we arrive.”

I looked out the window at the sleek black car speeding ahead. That was where he was—Darius Vane.

At least he didn’t want to ride with me.

At least he let Sorin drive.

At least I could pretend to breathe.

The tiara still sat on my lap, cold and unfamiliar. A symbol of something I didn’t ask for, didn’t want. I lifted it with trembling fingers, staring at the gemstones that sparkled like frozen tears.

I didn’t put it on. Not yet. I just held it.

“You shouldn’t take it to heart… what Darius said,” Sorin spoke gently as if choosing his words carefully. “He’s just… like that. He didn’t mean it.”

He paused, clearly struggling to find the right explanation as if trying to justify something even he didn’t fully agree with.

I cut him off before he could go on. “It’s okay.”

My voice came out quieter than I intended, almost too calm.

“I don’t mind it,” I added, still staring at the tiara in my hands. “After all… he was right.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t what he thinks I am. My father offered me to him like some bargaining chip. I have no right to complain. Or question his words.”

I swallowed the tightness in my throat, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “It’s okay,” I repeated, softer this time.

But really, I wasn’t saying it to him anymore.

I was saying it to myself. Trying to believe it.

Trying to survive it.

Sorin let out a quiet sigh. “You should sleep. The road ahead is long.”

I gave a faint nod and shut my eyes, clinging to a foolish hope—that everything that had happened since yesterday would vanish like a bad dream when I woke up.

But who was I kidding?

Hope was a luxury for the free. And I was anything but that.

It was already night when I woke up.

The hum of the car engine was softer now, slower. I blinked, disoriented, my fingers still curled weakly around the edge of the tiara on my lap.

Tall iron gates loomed ahead outside the window—ornate, cold, and towering, like something pulled from a storybook… or a nightmare.

The gates creaked open, and the car rolled forward.

My breath caught in my throat as the world beyond the gates appeared. Lamps lined the stone path, casting pale golden halos across the fog-drenched road. A castle was far ahead, rising like a shadow against the moonlit sky.

Not a house. Not a mansion.

A castle.

It looked ancient, proud, and terrifying. I’d only ever seen something like it in the books.

Our housepack was grand, yes. It had pride and history. But this... this was something else entirely. Kingdom Vane wasn’t just a name.

It was real.

And it swallowed everything.

I instinctively wrapped my arms around myself as a cold shiver ran through me. The air felt heavier here. The night was darker like the shadows were watching.

“Welcome to Kingdom Vane, Miss Elira,” Sorin said softly as the car came to a smooth stop. “This will be your home… starting today.”

Home.

The word felt foreign now.

Distant. Mocking.

I stared at the castle, unmoving, heart pounding like it knew something I didn’t.

Something was waiting inside. Something I couldn’t name.

The car door opened with a soft click, and a gust of night air swept in, biting against my skin. I stepped out slowly, my heart pounding hard. The chill wrapped around me like an unwelcome cloak.

Then I saw him.

Darius Vane.

He stood just a few steps away, bathed in the half-light—tall, composed, and terrifyingly regal in a way that made the castle behind him seem less ancient and more alive.

His presence was colder than the night, but his eyes—those deep, unreadable eyes—locked with mine.

He didn’t speak at first. He simply looked at me... then down.

At the tiara, I was still holding.

He looked at me with disdain, then stepped forward, each movement slow and deliberate.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, his voice sharp but quiet. “Why aren’t you wearing it?”

I glanced down at the tiara in my hands. My fingers had clenched around it again without me noticing. My chest tightened.

I didn’t understand. Why did it matter?

Why did I have to wear something that felt like it didn’t belong to me?

As if sensing my hesitation, Sorin stepped beside me, his voice low and laced with quiet urgency. “Wear it, Miss Elira. It’s part of the ritual… of your marriage to Darius.”

Marriage.

The word landed heavily in my chest, more complicated than I expected.

“What? Do you want me to put that on you?” Darius’s voice was mocking, irritated—as if he wanted to strangle me.

I stepped back a little, sensing danger. His eyebrows knitted together, clearly displeased by my reaction.

I lifted the tiara, my arms trembling just slightly, and placed it atop my head.

Darius said nothing.

He simply turned his back and began walking.

“Let’s go,” Sorin said when I remained standing still.

I nodded.

I followed Darius Vane.

I had no choice.

This was my fate now.

This kingdom was my... new prison.

Chapter 5: Moonlit Binding

Chapter 5: Moonlit Binding

It was cold.

I should be used to it—after all, the attic where I used to live was colder. But I never got used to it.

And right now, I knew it wasn’t just the weather making me cold.

I shivered and hugged myself as I followed Darius, my footsteps barely making a sound compared to his. I didn’t know where we were going. The moon was the only thing lighting our path.

I didn’t even want to ask.

I had no right.

I flinched when something warm brushed over my shoulders.

A cape. Dark and soft, it draped over me gently, warmth blooming through me almost instantly.

Before I could turn or speak, Sorin raised a finger to his lips. His eyes met mine—calm and kind—silently telling me: Don’t say a word.

And I didn’t.

Because the warmth that surged into me wasn’t just physical—it was something more. Something... magical. The fabric wasn’t thick, yet it felt like a shield from the bitter wind and the heavier storm inside me.

It comforted me more than I expected.

I looked at Sorin Vane.

Aside from Kael… and my father’s beta long ago… I couldn’t remember the last time someone had shown me kindness without wanting something in return.

Tears burned behind my eyes.

I was scared. Terrified.

Scared of this place.

Of Darius.

Of the life that waited for me here.

But to have someone offer me even this small comfort... it meant something.

Only, it vanished the moment I felt it—his stare. Dark, sharp, and colder than the wind that haunted these stone halls.

My spine straightened, breath catching, as I realized Darius had stopped walking—and was staring directly at me.

“Stop being nice to a lowly omega like her,” Darius said. His voice sliced through the silence, bitter and biting like a blade.

Sorin didn’t flinch. He only smirked faintly and replied, “Well, that lowly omega will be your wife, Darius.”

“Shut up.”

Sorin raised his hands in mock surrender, pretending to zip his lips shut, though the teasing glint in his eyes remained.

Darius turned away and continued walking, saying nothing more.

I followed, my fingers curling tightly around the edge of the cape, clinging to the fleeting warmth it gave me—for now.

We walked in silence until I heard it—the sound of water falling.

And that’s when I realized where we were going.

Back in our pack, I had witnessed this once when my father’s beta married his mate.

The sacred ritual of union beneath the eyes of the moon. The moonlit binding. 

This was also what Kael once promised me.

But as we reached the clearing and the waterfall came into view, glowing silver under the moonlight, I almost let out a silent cry.

This was nothing like what was supposed to happen tonight.

Not if Kael hadn’t rejected me.

“What are you waiting for? Come here.”

Darius stood at the center, right beneath the cascading waterfall bathed in moonlight. Mist shimmered around him like smoke, catching on the edges of his dark coat.

“Come here,” he said again—sharper this time—when I remained unmoving.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I moved forward, each step echoing louder in my chest.

When I reached him, he didn’t even look at me. He raised a hand.

Then, all of a sudden, a woman appeared before us—tall, cloaked in white, her silver hair intricately braided.

“I am Priestess Luna, guide of the sacred vow.” Her voice echoed with power and grace. “Tonight, under the eyes of the Moon Goddess, we will witness the union written in blood.”

Is this it?

Is this happening?

I wanted to run.

But where would I even go?

“Do you, Elira of Hollow Pack, accept this bond?” she asked.

My lips parted, but no words came.

But as I met Darius’s blank stare, I croaked, “Y-yes.”

“Do you, Darius Vane of Kingdom Vane, accept Elira Wynter?”

He nodded, saying nothing.

Sorin stepped forward, a ceremonial blade in hand—its handle carved with old symbols, its edge glinting with something far too sharp to be ordinary metal.

Darius offered his palm without hesitation. The slice was quick, his blood red as a dying star.

Then it was my turn.

I bit down a cry as the blade kissed my flesh.

Darius grabbed my hand, pressing it tightly to his. His warmth mixed with mine—his blood with mine.

The moment our palms met, the circle beneath us flared. Symbols burned white-hot for a breathless second.

I gasped as something cinched around my ribs—like chains. It hurt. I couldn’t pull my hand away, not even if I tried.

But Darius just stared at me, emotionless.

Then I saw it—the tiara I wore began to float before me, a blinding light pouring from it. As I opened my eyes again, I felt it.

The tiara had turned into a ring, now resting on my finger.

I stared at it, stunned.

It was beautiful.

But it felt like a shackle.

“Bound by the moon. Witnessed by the stars. May your souls endure what your hearts cannot.”

As soon as Priestess Luna finished speaking, Darius turned away.

He vanished into the dark.

And I stood there, ring on my finger, already bound and wedded to the Lycan King, Darius Vane.

“Let’s go, Elira...” Sorin called out to me.

I nodded, following him.

“Won’t you even ask where your husband went?” Sorin asked as we walked.

I shook my head and remained silent.

Husband?

We both know I have no right to call him that.

He said nothing, just sighed quietly until we reached the castle.

The heavy doors creaked open, and I stepped inside the place that would now be my home.

I braced myself for the cold, dust, stone floors, and shadows that swallowed the light.

But I was wrong.

It was… bright.

Light poured from crystal chandeliers above, casting a soft glow across the gleaming marble floors. The air smelled faintly of lavender and polished wood. Not a single cobweb in sight.

This place was beautiful.

And yet, I’d never felt more out of place.

“Are you hungry?” Sorin’s voice cut through the silence, gentle like he was careful not to startle me.

I paused, then shook my head.

It was the answer I’d learned to give. I didn’t need food, not really. I could go for a day, maybe two. I’d done it before.

Besides, eating was something you earned. Not something you were offered.

Even if I was no longer living in the Hollow Pack... nothing had changed.

I was still Elira Wynter—a cursed omega. The one who lived in the attic.

My gaze drifted across the polished hall. Everything sparkled. The floors were pristine. It all screamed of wealth.

“Oh,” Sorin said after a beat. “You’re probably tired. Let me take you to your room. I’ll ask the servants to bring something up. Just in case.”

I nodded, unsure if my voice would betray me if I tried to speak.

He walked ahead, and I followed, my steps quiet against the marble. I kept my eyes on the details—it was easier than thinking. Every surface was polished, every mirror clear. Even the rugs were soft beneath my worn shoes.

The portraits lining the hall watched me with silver eyes. Vane ancestors, I guessed. Their faces were stern, regal, untouchable. As if they already disapproved of me.

It made me wonder why they even let Darius Vane marry me.

Right. I was perfect to use. Perfect to break.

They must have thought that, too.

At the end of a corridor, Sorin stopped beside a large door. “This will be your room,” he said, pushing it open.

I stepped forward—but stopped at the threshold.

Was he serious?

The room was... beautiful. Spacious. There were cabinets, a large bed centered perfectly, a vanity near the wall... and a balcony.

This was far from the attic.

This wasn’t... mine.

"What’s wrong?" Sorin asked, turning toward me.

I swallowed hard. "Are you sure this is mine?"

Sorin’s brows furrowed slightly, then he let out a soft laugh. "Yes, this is your room, Elira."

I stepped in slowly. The floor didn’t creak. The air didn’t sting with mold or dust. It was warm.

Everything in here looked untouched.

The bedspread was soft—pale blue with silver embroidery. The curtains fluttered gently in the breeze from the balcony. A tray of fresh towels sat on a bench near the bath, and next to the vanity, someone had placed a crystal vase filled with white roses.

No one had ever placed flowers for me before.

"You can rest. If you need anything, you can use the telephone on the bedside table," Sorin said.

"O-okay. Thank you."

The door closed behind him with a quiet click.

I turned around, the silence pressing in on me.

This room—this beautiful, expensive room—felt like a cage wrapped in silk. A prettier version of the attic.

Because just like there, I knew I was still in prison here.

I walked toward the vanity and caught my reflection.

For a moment, I didn’t recognize her.

The girl in the mirror wore a delicate white dress that shimmered faintly in the light. Her hair was still damp from the waterfall. Her eyes were wide, uncertain, rimmed with fatigue. And on her finger… the ring. The one that had formed from the tiara.

I raised my hand and touched it.

It didn’t feel like mine. None of this did.

I sat on the edge of the bed, not quite ready to lie down. I didn’t know if I should take off my shoes if I were allowed to touch anything, if someone would come in and scold me for wrinkling the sheets.

And then… a knock.

Not loud. Polite.

I froze.

The door opened slightly, and a girl, maybe a few years younger than me, with wide brown eyes and a tray in her hands, stepped in.

"Good evening," she greeted, her voice flat, expression unreadable, as she placed the tray on the small table near the balcony.

"If you need anything, just call me."

I nodded. She left quietly, closing the door behind her.

I stared at the food for a long time before finally standing and walking over to it. I sat down, picked up the spoon, and dipped it into the soup. My hands trembled—just a little.

I was about to taste it, but a flash of memory stopped me.

Lorelei. Bringing me food in the attic.

The pain came after I ate it.

The spoon slipped from my hand and clattered against the floor.

I collapsed on the cold marble, and I just stared at the tray of delicious food, having no plan to eat it.

I don't want that pain again...

Chapter 6: Tied by Curse

Chapter 6: Tied by Curse

I was back.

This dream… again.

The forest was dark yet oddly lit by the pale shimmer of the moon. I was smaller—barely seven, barefoot. I had lost my shoes from running. My favorite dress, which my mother had sewn for me, was already torn.

“Stay behind me, Elira,” my mother whispered, clutching my hand.

Her silver hair clung to her cheeks as she turned to look back at me. There was blood on her dress.

Beside her, my brother, Elton, stood tense, trying to be brave.

Growls echoed from somewhere in the trees. Low. Hungry.

“Don’t come any closer!” my mother shouted, pushing me behind her.

The shadows moved.

Something lunged.

And then—

I screamed.

Power surged through my veins like fire I couldn’t control. A blinding light exploded from within me.

The dream fractured.

My mother’s arms were around me. My brother’s voice—gasping, coughing. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.

“R-Run, Elira… d-don’t look back, baby.”

“No,” I whimpered in the dream, clawing at the vision as it faded.

“Wake up, Elira!”

I jolted awake, soaked in sweat, my breath caught in my throat. My body trembled against the soft sheets—sheets that were now tangled beneath me, as I lay on the cold marble floor.

“Elira…”

That was the moment I realized I wasn’t alone.

Sorin’s voice was soft—careful.

I turned my head, and my heart nearly stopped.

Darius Vane was sitting in the chair near the balcony, his eyes like polished ice, watching me without a trace of emotion.

I gasped and scrambled to stand, but my legs gave out beneath me. Panic tightened in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I stumbled, falling hard to the floor with a dull thud.

I braced for laughter—for scorn—for something cruel.

But there was only silence.

Sorin stepped forward, but Darius raised a hand, stopping him.

“Why were you sleeping on the floor?” Darius asked, his voice low and sharp.

I didn’t answer.

I couldn’t.

Because what could I say? That the bed looked too clean? That it was too soft compared to where I’ve been sleeping for years? That I was afraid I might ruin it, and he’d punish me?

“Was the room not to your liking?” Sorin asked gently.

“N-no, it’s fine. I-I just fell asleep here accidentally.”

Darius scoffed. “What a liar.”

“You look pathetic,” he added, his voice sharp enough to slice through bone.

I flinched. My hands pressed tighter against the floor, fingers curling inward.

“Are you starving yourself to death?” Darius asked coldly. “Is that how you plan to end this marriage? A slow, pitiful suicide by hunger?”

I lowered my head. I had no intention of answering.

If hunger could really kill me, I would’ve died a long time ago.

“You didn’t touch the food,” he continued, rising to his feet. His presence felt suddenly towering, suffocating. “Or maybe you’re waiting for someone else to taste it first? Afraid it’s poisoned?”

I sucked in a sharp breath.

His words hit too close. Too precise.

“I don’t need a wife who plays dead in corners,” he said. “If you’re going to waste away, at least do it quietly.”

I kept staring at the floor.

“I’ll have someone bring more food,” he added with cruel indifference. “You’ll eat it. Or I’ll have Sorin force it down your throat. Your choice.”

He turned and strode toward the door.

“Fix yourself. We’re eating lunch with the pack. Don’t show yourself as that lowly omega. You belong to me—so don’t you dare embarrass me.”

And then he was gone.

The door clicked shut behind him.

For a long moment, I didn’t move.

I couldn’t.

“Elira?” Sorin’s voice came soft, cautious, like he was afraid I might shatter if he spoke too loudly. “Is it true what Darius said? That you didn’t eat the food because you were scared it was poisoned?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t lie. But I couldn’t nod either. My jaw tightened, and I finally looked up.

Sorin’s expression wasn’t mocking or judgmental.

He looked... sad.

For me?

Why would he?

“Is this what your pack did to you? They abused you?”

He lowered himself slowly to one knee. “If you want… we can eat together. I’ll taste it first. That way you’ll know it’s safe.”

My breath caught.

It felt foreign—this kindness. It was rare, like what Kael once did for me.

I didn’t know what to say.

“Elira—”

“Why?”

His brows furrowed. “What do you mean, why?”

I swallowed hard. “Why are you being… nice?”

Sorin didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he studied me with eyes that didn’t look away, didn’t flinch from the rawness I couldn’t hide anymore.

“I don’t think kindness should need a reason,” he said quietly. “But fine, if you want one—maybe it’s because I see my little sister in you. The two of you were quite alike.”

“Your... sister?”

He nodded. A small smile appeared on his lips, though I could still see the sadness in his eyes. “Yes, my sister. I lost her when we were young. I wasn’t able to protect her.”

I blinked, startled by the ache in Sorin’s voice—the pain he kept tucked behind that small, sad smile.

He was a nice guy. Too nice. And something about that made a sharp twist in my chest.

What if… my brother had lived?

Would he have been like Sorin? Gentle, understanding, kind in that quiet, steady way?

My throat tightened at the thought.

We both lost a sibling.

Maybe that’s why I felt this strange pull toward him—this invisible thread tying us together.

Maybe… maybe I could treat him like a brother.

But the thought froze in my mind, iced over by something colder.

No.

I can’t do that.

I shouldn’t accept his kindness.

I shouldn’t let myself get close.

Not to him. Not to anyone.

Someone like Sorin…

He doesn’t deserve for something bad to happen to him.

Because I’m cursed.

And the people around me—the ones who try to protect me, who care, who dare to love me—

They get hurt.

They get unlucky.

They get cursed.

My mother. My brother.

I felt the sting in my eyes and quickly blinked it away.

No. I won’t let that happen again.

I had tried to forget it before—to believe that maybe my father was wrong. That I wasn’t cursed.

But after what happened to Kael’s mother… after that made him reject me...

It was true. I was cursed.

"Look, Elira, you need to eat. You need strength to survive here."

"I'll get your food. I'll taste it first—"

I stood up, shaking my head. "It's okay. You don't have to do that. I'll eat it on my own."

He stared at me for a moment before nodding and standing up. "Okay. That’s good to hear."

I hesitated, then spoke before I could stop myself. “Sorin… you know who I am, don’t you?”

He looked back at me, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve heard it. I’m sure you have. It’s not even a secret anymore.” My voice trembled. “You know what they call me. The cursed omega.”

His face shifted—just barely—but enough. He did know. Of course, he did.

“You should stop being nice to me,” I said, forcing the words out like they were knives scraping my throat. “If you don’t want something bad to happen to you, then stay away. That’s the pattern. That’s what always happens.”

“Elira…” His voice was soft. “It’s okay. I don’t believe that—”

“Well, you should.” I cut him off, sharper than I meant to. “The Alpha I was supposed to marry rejected me after experiencing the result of choosing a cursed omega like me.”

The silence stretched between us, heavy and brittle.

I took a shaky step back, hugging my arms to my chest. “You’re too nice, Sorin. You don’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to be punished just for trying to be kind.”

He opened his mouth, but I rushed on before he could speak.

“I don’t want to be the reason something happens to you. I don’t want to be blamed. Again. Please.”

Sorin didn’t speak for a while. The silence between us stretched like a taut wire, and I could feel something changing in the air.

Then he asked quietly, "Do you want to escape this kingdom? To be free, Elira?”

The words hit me like a wave.

Did I?

My lips didn’t move. But my eyes did. They betrayed me.

He saw the answer written there, even if I couldn’t say it out loud.

I swallowed, voice barely above a whisper. “I-I don’t have the means to do that… I’m sure Darius Vane won’t let me—”

“If what you’re saying is true,” Sorin interrupted, his tone suddenly hardening, “that you are cursed… that something bad happens to anyone who gets close to you, who’s kind to you… or who loves you…”

His eyes met mine, steady and unreadable now.

“Then why don’t you use that?”

I blinked, confused. “W-what?”

“Use it on him,” Sorin said flatly. “Get him to like you. Make him fall for you. And if your curse is real—if it really destroys the people who dare to care for you—then let it destroy Darius Vane.”

His face was expressionless now. Cold. Calculated.

“If he’s affected,” he continued, “you’ll have your freedom. You’ll be free of him. Of this kingdom. Of everything.”

I stared at him, stunned. My heart pounded so loudly that I was afraid he might hear it.

Was he serious?

Was he really telling me to curse Darius Vane...their Lycan King?

“You said you didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of you,” Sorin said quietly. “So why not choose who gets hurt?”