chapter 3
1196 Words
THORNE ROSE CLAN
ASTRA
If Astra had hoped to go to the Mate Feast with her family, that dream died the moment she reached home.
The house was in chaos, her family long gone, leaving a note demanding she clean everything thoroughly. The betrayal barely stung. Only one thing mattered tonight: she was going to meet her mate.
Ignoring the pain in her sides, she hurried to set the house in order. Forty minutes later, she was done and flew upstairs to dress. A sigh escaped her as she faced her sparse closet. She had nothing new. Opting for a simple white, knee-length cotton dress and white ballerinas, she styled her curly hair into two braids.
Twenty minutes later, she arrived at the venue.
The Grand Hall of Mates was breathtaking, decorated with strings of light, a glorious crystal chandelier illuminating the room. Her entry caused a hush, and dozens of eyes turned to her. Ignoring her mother's poisonous stare, she moved to the other side of the room.
When she saw her sister, Lia, heading her way, Astra slipped onto the porch. She was here to find her mate, not a fight.
Sitting alone, staring at the moon, she began to fear she'd made a mistake. Maybe she had no mate here. Maybe she was truly cursed.
That's when the scent hit her—a sweet, intoxicating lavender.
Her heart leaped. She jumped to her feet, turning toward the scent.
And her world shattered.
"No. No. No." It couldn't be.
Marlon, her tormentor and the future Alpha of the Thorne Rose pack, stood before her, his face a mask of pure horror.
"Goddess," he cried out bitterly, "why would you punish me with the monster who destroyed my family?"
Before she could process the rejection, he grabbed her arm, dragging her back into the hall. Ignoring the painful sparks that erupted at their contact, she struggled to keep up with his furious pace.
He released her in front of the huge fireside, and she stumbled. He marched to the buffet table, snatched a kitchen knife, and returned. Realizing his intent, she began to beg.
"Don't do this, please..."
He ignored her, taking her left hand and dragging her around the sacred fire seven times, as tradition demanded. Once completed, his voice rang out, cold and clear.
"Goddess! Before the four elements that bind us—fire, water, soil, and air—I beg you to take back the blessing you bestowed and curse any feelings she has for me, so we may never be together! I cannot be bound to a monster. Therefore, I reject this bond!"
He plunged the hall into stunned silence.
Without warning, he cut her palm, then his own. He pressed their bleeding hands together, letting their merged blood sizzle and spit in the sacred flames.
Astra was broken. All her hopes for a loving family, for escape, vanished in the fire's smoke.
He released her, waiting.
Falling to her knees, her voice trembled but grew stronger with each word. "By fire, by soil, by air, and by water... I accept your rejection. And I curse any feeling you ever had for me, so we may never be together again."
A long silence followed.
"Always playing the victim," her brother's voice cut through the quiet. "What do you think you'll achieve?"
Even now, they wouldn't stop.
"It's good you know your place," Marlon scoffed. "Don't think I'll forgive you for this display. Disappear. And by the way, I am choosing Lia as my mate."
Standing up, a newfound strength surging through her, Astra snatched the knife from him. She sliced her uncut palm and let the blood drip into the fire between them.
"Goddess, please... help me! If I truly committed these atrocities, strike me dead now! If not, sever all ties that bind me to this pack! Set me free from this hell!"
Silence.
Then, a c***k of lightning and a roar of thunder shook the hall. Once. Twice. A third time. The bond was severed.
But that wasn't all. She could feel it—a snap deep in her soul. Her tie to the Thorne Rose pack was gone.
Ignoring the shocked faces, especially Marlon's, she ran. She ran past her speechless parents, out of the hall, and into the night.
She was finally free.
---
Astra ran through the forest until her lungs burned. She was weak, her wolf was fading, her body was a map of healing wounds, but she had never been happier.
She managed to hunt a rabbit, giving her enough strength for a few days as she decided her next move. For the first time, the days ahead promised peace.
But her luck ran out. Her foot caught in a trap on an unknown border, and she was hoisted into the air in a net woven with threads of silver. The metal seared her skin, poisoning her weak wolf further. She was sure she had only hours to live.
Struggling would only waste her energy. Soon, she was surrounded by four border patrol guards.
The insignia on their right arms made her blood run cold. She was in the territory of the Crescent Veil Clan—the richest, strongest, and most feared pack in the region.
The warriors—a black-haired man with Latino features, a caramel-skinned woman, a blond with dimples, and a towering redhead—stared at her.
"She seems hurt, but that doesn't make her harmless. Let's bring her back in chains," the woman said.
"Her wolf won't survive the silver. Bring her as she is to the Alpha," the redhead commanded.
"Yes, Beta."
They blindfolded her. When the cloth was removed, she found herself in a vast study, with a heavy oak desk, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a strategy area in the corner. Her eyes darted, searching for an escape.
A low chuckle stopped her. The redheaded Beta watched her. "Stop looking for an exit. You'll only get yourself killed."
Then, a goosebump-inducing howl announced his arrival. The Alpha. Fear locked her in place, her gaze fixed on the floor. She felt his presence fill the room, a terrifying, powerful energy.
She tried not to scream as she felt his gaze upon her. This was the monster from the stories parents used to scare their pups.
"Look at me," he ordered, his voice gruff.
Slowly, her gaze traveled up. He moved with the grace of a lord and the lethal agility of a predator. She took in his caramel skin, broad shoulders, firm jaw, and finally, her eyes locked with his deep brown ones.
Her heart stopped.
He was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. His midnight black hair was held in three neat braids that cascaded over his shoulders. Dressed in simple border patrol joggers, he wore them like a king.
Her wolf stirred weakly, a whisper in her soul she couldn't quite hear.
Then, the handsome man before her fell to his knees.
"Mate," he groaned, the word filled with a depth of emotion that shattered her, before he enveloped her in the warmest, safest hug she had felt in her entire life.
Was this a dream?
- Writer
