XIRA POV
My very existence was a curse.
Immediately people saw me, they crossed to the other side—not because I stank, but because they feared my bad luck would rub off on them.
In the werewolf world, scent is not just instinct; it is identity.
It is how a wolf announces their presence before their appearance, how they mark their territory, recognize people, and sense danger in the wind. Scent is memory and family, a living thread that binds werewolf to pack and mate to mate. Most importantly, scent is how fated werewolf mates find each other.
Pups without scents are instantly discarded at birth, and left for the wild beasts to devour, leaving no trace of their existence.
That is tradition, how it has always been done.
Ordinarily, that should have been the end of my story but my father is Edmund, the Alpha of Stormfang pack and he kept me from being killed.
One would think that means my father loves me but one would be wrong.
He is not a warm or caring man, I am sure many have wondered at the reason for his keeping me alive.
I sometimes wonder myself.
The only person who had shown me even an ounce of affection in this entire pack used to be my grandmother, my father's mother.
She had argued that the moon goddess must have a reason for sparing my life, that my existence might hold some deeper purpose.
My father may have allowed me to live but in the packhouse, I am as invisible as the wind.
For years my life has been an endless cycle of avoidance and isolation.
The pack has made it clear where I stand, better out of sight.
I have learned to navigate the packhouse like a ghost, my steps silent, my presence fleeting. I have become an expert in disappearing before anyone even realizes I am there.
My grandmother says that the moon goddess works in mysterious ways.
Sometimes I wish she would work a little faster.
***
The Alpha of the Red Moon Pack, a notorious rival of the Stormfang Pack, extended a marriage proposal. Not for love, not for alliance, but as an agreement to end the bloody border skirmishes that had plagued both packs for generations.
The condition was simple: one unmated female from Stormfang must be given to the Red Moon Pack, to be bonded and integrated into their pack.
To everyone's shock, my father chose me. The scentless abomination.
The packhouse had erupted into stunned, then derisive, laughter. They saw it as the ultimate insult, sending their most worthless member to their sworn enemy.
But I saw it for what it was: a calculated, cruel disposal. My father was finally getting rid of his burden, and in a way that brought him a strategic advantage.
Now, I stand before the mirror, a bride dressed for a life I never wanted, a pawn in a game I never agreed to play. The woman staring back was a stranger, a beautifully packaged offering on the altar of my father's ambition.
"Despite all my efforts you still look ghastly," May sneered, her face twisted with disgust.
Her reflection was a stark contrast to mine. Normal, full of life, the picture of a happy young werewolf.
No one would guess it if they saw us together but May and I were cousins.
May was a dark confident beauty who had all the respect from the pack members, while I was the pale ghost that haunted the corridors.
"It is fitting that a useless person like you has been handed over to our enemies." She taunted. "For once there is some use to you being alive."
I blinked back tears.
I wonder if there'll be a big celebration after I leave.
Suddenly the door swung open and even without a sense of smell I knew who it was.
My father, Edmund, stood in the doorway now, filling the frame with his imposing presence. He wasn't looking at me, not really. His gaze was fixed on the expensive silk of my gown, as if assessing the value of the goods he was about to trade.
"Has she been given her medicine?" he asked, his voice devoid of any paternal warmth.
My stomach twisted. The nasty concoction I was forced to drink every morning—bitter, burning, leaving me weak for hours. I still didn't know what it was for. I only knew what happened if I refused.
May straightened. "Yes, Alpha. As you instructed."
He finally met my eyes in the mirror. They were the same shade of green as mine, but where mine held a quiet fear, his held nothing. A void. "You will not shame this pack. Do you understand?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words caught in my throat, a familiar knot of helplessness. I could only nod.
"Good," he said, turning on his heel. "The ceremony will begin at moonrise. Be ready." And with that, he was gone, leaving a silence heavier than any chains.
***
Walking down the aisle felt like I was walking down to my funeral.
There was no cheer in my heart, no excitment over what a lot of girls dreamed about, their mate.
I was trading one hell for an unknown. Who knew what my life there would be like?
But is there anything worse than the way I've been living?
Isolated, scorned and abused.
Up ahead standing by the priest was the imposing figure of Axel, my mate to be.
The Beta of the Red Moon Pack.
He stood at the altar, a structure carved from shadow and stone. His presence alone seemed to suck the light from the room, casting the entire clearing into a deeper gloom. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that looked like it had been carved by angels, all hard planes with a soft rosebud lips and eyelashes that gave his eyes a slanted look.
But it was his eyes that held me captive. Eyes so blue they rivalled the sky. At that moment was no warmth in them that they resembled ice, no flicker of curiosity, not even the cruel amusement I had seen in my father's eyes. There was just... an absence.
As I drew closer, his nose flared for a second then I saw disgust flash in his eyes.
No doubt repulsed by my lack of a scent.
When my father placed my hand in his, a jolt, not of electricity but of pure, unadulterated fear, shot up my arm. His grip was firm, almost crushing, a silent reminder of the power he now held over me. I could feel the rough calluses on his palm, a stark contrast to the delicate lace of my soft skin.
The priest then took a step forward, his loud voice resonating through the hall. "We gather in this ritual of union between Axel Xavier of the Red Moon Pack and Xira Valeen of the Stormfang pack…"
CRASH!!!!
The heavy doors of the hall were flung open and the next thing I knew, a dishevelled and bloody warrior ran in panting heavily.
"Alpha!" He gasped, "The Pack barrier has been breached and the guards have all been killed."