Hazel’s POV
Hell yeah, I’m ready.
I stood in front of the cracked, dusty mirror in the corner of my cramped room, taking in my reflection like it was the last thing I’d see. My curves were perfect, the shape that most girls dread of—but the brown dress I wore was old, faded, and torn in places underneath.
But then I rembered,when sothing is worn with confidence, it becos the best thing in the room, right? I consoled my raging heart with that thought, clutching it like a lifeline.
I smoothed my dress, lifting my chin higher. I was done feeling invisible.
Just then, a sudden chuckle cut through the quiet like a jagged knife. I spun around, heart slamming, and my gaze locked onto the devil incarnate herself Natasha. That smug, sick smile plastered on her face was worse than any venom she could spit.
"Isn’t that my dress?" she mocked, stepping forward with calculated ease.
I clenched my fists but held my ground.
"Omg! Yes, it’s the one!" Sophia chid in with wicked delight, joining Natasha like two poisonous vipers ready to strike. "The one you wore when you had your first kiss with Alpha Cayden."
The na sent a cold shiver down my spine. I hadn’t even t him, but the re ntion gave chills he was legendary in these circles. And Sophia’s next words sliced even deeper.
"And now I’m going to be his mate," she laughed loudly, eyes gleaming with cruel amusent.
They joined in, their laughter echoing through the small room like a sinister choir, laughing at the sickest reasons—as if my life was so twisted joke.
I refused to let them see falter.
"You gave it to ," I spat out, my voice sharper than I intended, before they could launch another barrage of insults. Their laughter only grew louder in response.
"Oh, can I forget that?" Natasha sneered, tossing her head back as if the mory itself was hilarious.
Suddenly, Lilian’s eyes flicked to my hair, narrowing with interest.
"What did you use on your hair?" she asked suspiciously.
I shrugged, smirking. "Urm, nothing."
Secretly, I peeked at Natasha’s hair, noticing how she’d cleverly covered it with a huge black hat that matched her black dress perfectly. Nice idea.
But then Natasha pushed forward like a viper striking, eyes wide and voice sharp.
"How... huh... when?" she stamred, disbelief writ clear on her face. "Within a day your hair has grown back? And mine’s still this miserable ss?"
She was about to say more when the door slamd open.
Father stepped in, his presence like a dark thunderstorm rolling through the room. He snapped his fingers sharply.
"It’s ti, darlings."
Like clockwork, Natasha, Sophia, and Lilian rushed outside giggling, leaving rolling my eyes at their childish display. I followed silently behind them, already exhausted.
Downstairs, Selene looked like she was trying to steal the spotlight, overdressed and overly proud as if she was the one hoping to be chosen tonight, not her daughters.
Ariel crept up behind Father, giving a sweet nod that lted a little of the bitterness inside .
We moved outside, the cold evening air biting at my skin. The car waited, sleek and shiny, the kind of luxury my sisters flaunted like badges of honor.
They opened the doors and climbed in without a second thought.
Except .
"No," Father said coldly, pointing toward the bus behind the car.
"You’re entering the maid’s car."
My chest tightened, every breath shallow and sharp. I saw the maids pile in, carrying ergency dresses for my sisters, ready to patch up their fancy gowns if ruined.
Once again, I was an outcast.
Damn it.
I just wanted to belong.
I wanted Father to look at with love, to kiss my forehead, to treat like his darling angel—not like a mistake he hoped to hide.
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and climbed into the bus.
Hours passed in a haze of drowsiness, the bus rocking in a numb lullaby. When the maids finally finished their work, the bus rumbled forward, carrying us toward the High House.
The High House—the seat of power for the Blue Moon Pack. The leaders of New Orleans. The strongest werewolves in all the lands.
This was my second ti here.
The first was when Father brought to prove why I had no scent—that haunting truth whispering I had no wolf.
The High House was huge and ethereal, like sothing out of an ancient myth. Black stone walls soared to the sky, crowned with spires that pierced the clouds. Inside, the architecture was both perfect and haunting—a castle carved by the hands of ten thousand werewolves, each stone whispered a story of sacrifice and power.
People milled about, dressed in exquisite elegance, their presence radiating strength.
Next to them, I looked like a shadow—a re maid slipping between the giants.
My heart pounded hard.
I rembered Beta Caspian—the warm smile he once gave when our paths crossed. I wanted to see him again, more than anything. For one last ti at least.
The maids herded deeper into the palace, past endless crowds of wolves from other packs.
Tonight, Alpha Cayden and Beta Caspian were to pick their mates.
My family was seated right in front, honored with a shining na tag: The Gilberts, alongside our family crest.
My heart burned with longing.
Was I not supposed to be seated with them?
Was it because I was human?
Instead, I took a seat beside random wolves, careful to stay where Father’s eyes couldn’t find .
So I could slip away, with my bags packed, if I didn’t wolf out by the end of the night.
The lights dimd, and silence fell.
The Current Luna...the Alpha’s mother glided onto the stage, her presence commanding reverence.
"Thank you all for coming to the coming of age ceremony of my sons..." Her voice wavered as she paused, tears welling. "...Alpha Cayden and Beta Caspian, and also in loving mory of their triplet brother, Cyrius."
The rumors were true.
Cyrius was dead.
Whispers had swirled for months so said he was rogue, others that he was sick and hidden inside the High House.
But now the Luna herself confird it.
A hush settled.
The Luna finished her speech and left the stage, tears shimring on her cheeks.
Then the next figure entered, and sothing inside shifted.
I lifted my head, heart hamring.
There he was—Beta Caspian.
Beside him stood another figure, exactly the sa height but with an aura that made everyone shiver.
His eyes..red like burning embers—scanned the room with a predator’s grace.
That had to be Alpha Cayden.
So called him devil. So, monster. Others whispered far worse.
And yeah, it fit him perfectly.
He looked so hot dark hair cascading past his shoulders, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his tailored black coat.
His eyes suddenly stopped on .
Red, glowing, perfect.
His sculpted face lood inches from mine through the crowd.
And in that instant
Sothing hot shifted inside .
My wolf?
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