Marked by the Beast King

Chapter 1 Blood Moon Blood Moon hung low above the forest, swollen and red enough to stain the clouds around it. From the narrow window of my room, the trees looked black beneath it, and motionless except for the occasional shiver of branches in the wind. Torchlight flickered through the territory below, gold against the darkness, while distant drums echoed from the ceremonial grounds near the river. The mating ceremony had already begun. I should have felt nervous. Most unmated wolves dreamed about this night from childhood. Girls spent years imagining the moment the bond would snap into place. The touch. The pull. The certainty that somewhere in the world existed a person made by the Moon Goddess specifically for them. But all I felt was cold. I lowered my gaze to the silver chain resting against my throat. Thin. Tarnished. Old enough that parts of it had darkened with age. Silver was supposed to burn werewolves. At least, that was what the priests claimed. But the metal rested against my skin without leaving so much as a mark. It always had. I reached up and tucked the chain beneath the collar of my black ceremonial dress before anyone could see it. Not because I feared punishment anymore. I was simply tired of the looks. A knock sounded at my door. Three soft taps. Careful. Always careful. “Lyra?” a quiet voice called. “The ceremony starts soon.” I crossed the room and opened the door. The servant standing outside immediately took half a step back before she could stop herself. Her expression was tightened with embarrassment, but mine didn’t change at all. I had grown used to that reaction years ago. “I know,” I said. Her gaze flickered briefly toward my eyes, then away just as quickly. “The others are already gathering.” Others. Not us. Never us. I nodded once and stepped past her into the corridor. The castle halls were alive with movement tonight. Wolves dressed in black and silver passed beneath candlelit arches, their voices low with excitement. The scent of perfume, smoke, wet wool, and anticipation thickened the air. And everywhere I walked, space opened around me. Subtle. Almost polite. A woman carrying ceremonial flowers shifted sideways before her shoulder could brush mine. Two young men lowered their conversation when I passed. An older wolf staring too long at my face suddenly looked away hard enough to tense his jaw. No one ever touched me willingly. At first, when I was younger, I used to wonder if I smelled strange. Other wolves spoke often about scent. Comfort. Instinct. Recognition. But around me, instincts always became uneasy. As if something beneath my skin breathed wrong. I descended the staircase slowly, with fingers grazing the cold stone railing while the drums outside deepened. Boom. Boom. Boom. Each sound rolled through the territory like a heartbeat. At the bottom of the stairs, several unmated women stood gathered near the entrance hall in elegant dark dresses. Their hair had been braided traditionally for the ceremony, silver charms woven into the strands. The moment I approached, their conversation faltered. Not completely, but just enough. “…heard Beta Nolan found his mate last winter,” one of them murmured too quickly. Another laughed softly. “I still think the Moon Goddess chooses based on scent.” “The bond always knows.” Their eyes flickered toward me for half a second. Then away. I moved past them without speaking. But behind me, the whispers resumed. Lower this time. Almost like they feared I might hear something they didn’t want spoken aloud. As soon as i got outside, the cold struck me with wet wind that was swept through the territory carrying the smell of pine, smoke, wet earth, and river water. Torches lined the stone pathways leading toward the ceremonial grounds deep within the forest clearing. Yet, above us, the Blood Moon watched everything. Wolves flooded the paths in quiet excitement, but the closer I came, the more the atmosphere changed around me. Conversations softened. Some wolves moved aside before I reached them. Others stared openly until I looked back, then they quickly lowered their eyes. I used to hate it. The staring. The discomfort. The subtle recoil hidden beneath politeness. Now it only made me tired. A group of younger wolves stood near the edge of the pathway dressed in ceremonial black. One of them whispered something as I passed. I didn’t catch the words. But I heard another mutter sharply, “Don’t.” Then silence followed. Restrained. Afraid. My fingers curled slightly against the fabric of my dress. Most wolves heard their inner wolf constantly. Some described it as another heartbeat beneath their own thoughts. Others called it instinct sharpened into language. But mine, she had always been silent No voice. No presence. Nothing. As a child, I once spent three days locked in my room because I thought if I stayed quiet enough, eventually my wolf would answer me back. But it never did. The memory rose unexpectedly as I walked through the forest. I could still remember pressing my ear against the floorboards while rain hammered the roof overhead, whispering into the dark: Please. Just say something. Anything. But the silence inside me had always remained untouched. Ahead, torchlight brightened through the trees. The ceremonial grounds opened beneath the moon like something ancient and sacred. Wolves circled the massive stone altar near the riverbanks while priests in silver-trimmed robes stood beneath hanging banners marked with crescent symbols. The air smelled of smoke and ceremonial herbs. The drums stopped. A strange stillness settled over the clearing. I stepped forward slowly. And then I saw him. Lucien Ashford, he stood near the altar dressed entirely in black, silver embroidery lining the collar of his coat. Tall. Controlled. Beautiful in the sharp way powerful wolves often were. Future Alpha of the Ashford bloodline. My fated mate. The moment his eyes found mine across the crowd, something in his expression changed. Not anger. Not disgust. But fear. Real fear. And suddenly, for the first time that night, the cold no longer felt like it belonged to the weather.