The Fox-Wolf Bride

Chapter 1 - Florence Drake. Part 1

Florence Drake

The university library was the quietest place in the entire territory of the Red Hollow pack.

Florence Drake loved it for that.

The building itself was old, older than most of the stone structures in the town that surrounded the pack grounds. The walls were built of dark gray granite, and the tall windows stretched almost from floor to ceiling, allowing thin streams of pale daylight to fall across the endless rows of wooden shelves.

Dust drifted slowly through the light like tiny floating stars.

The smell of old paper, leather bindings, and polished wood filled the air.

Most wolves hated the place.

To them, the library felt lifeless. Quiet. Boring.

To Florence, it felt like safety.

She sat alone at her usual table in the far corner of the reading hall, surrounded by small piles of books. One lay open in her hands while several others were stacked neatly beside her.

Florence turned another page.

And another.

Her fingers were slender and pale, faintly stained with ink from years spent repairing manuscripts and cataloging archives for the university.

Her long copper-red hair was twisted into a thick bun at the back of her head. The hair itself fell almost to her waist when loose, bright and fiery in color — the same strange shade that her wolf carried.

She kept it tied up.

Less attention that way.

Florence Drake had spent most of her life trying not to attract attention.

She was twenty-four years old.

Old enough that most female wolves of the pack were already mated.

Some had children.

Some had already begun training their daughters to take part in pack life.

Florence had none of that.

She was the omega.

Not the rare, delicate omegas described in romantic novels. Not the kind of wolves that powerful alphas fought over.

Just… the lowest ranking wolf in the Red Hollow pack.

Weak.

Unwanted.

Her wolf was small and oddly colored — reddish fur that made other wolves joke she looked more like a fox than a wolf.

The first time she had shifted in front of the pack, the laughter had echoed across the clearing for minutes.

Fox-wolf.

Half-breed.

Mistake of the moon.

Florence had heard every version of the insult.

She had stopped reacting years ago.

Instead she read.

Books were easier than people.

Books didn't laugh.

Books didn't whisper behind your back.

Books didn't remind you every day that you were the weakest creature in your own pack.

Florence reached for another book and carefully slid it closer.

The story she was currently reading told the tale of a brave female wolf who crossed three territories to rescue her captured mate from a rival alpha.

Florence smiled faintly at the page.

Stories like that always fascinated her.

Stories where love was powerful.

Stories where someone weak found strength.

Stories where someone like her mattered.

But stories were not reality.

Reality was Red Hollow.

And in Red Hollow, Florence Drake mattered to no one.

The silence of the library wrapped around her like a blanket.

Outside the tall windows, the forest stretched across the hills in deep green waves. Somewhere in the distance a hawk cried, its voice faint through the thick glass.

Florence breathed in slowly.

Peace.

This was why she worked here.

The university library belonged to the pack but was rarely used by anyone except students studying history or law.

Florence had taken the job as soon as she was old enough.

Cataloging books.

Repairing old pages.

Maintaining records.

It allowed her to remain mostly unseen.

Which was exactly how she preferred it.

She turned another page.

And for a moment, she forgot the world entirely.

Forgot the whispers.

Forgot the pitying looks.

Forgot the way her parents avoided speaking about her in public gatherings.

Forgot her brother Marcus — the strong warrior who carried the Drake name with pride while she quietly tried not to stain it.

Here, among the books, Florence could pretend she belonged somewhere.

But peace rarely lasted long in Red Hollow.

A loud crash echoed from the entrance hall.

Florence froze.

Her shoulders stiffened instinctively.

The heavy wooden doors of the library burst open.

Three wolves walked inside.

Florence didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Kevin Tate never entered a room quietly.

Kevin Tate was the Alpha's only son.

And the future ruler of Red Hollow.

He walked through the doorway like he owned the building — which, in many ways, he probably did.

Kevin was tall, broad-shouldered, and effortlessly confident. His dark blond hair fell slightly across his forehead, giving him a careless appearance that many wolves mistook for charm.

But Florence had seen the cruelty behind his gray eyes too many times to be fooled.

He wore expensive clothes — a fitted coat, dark trousers, polished boots. Even his watch gleamed with quiet wealth.

Behind him walked Stephanie Myers.

Stephanie was beautiful in a sharp, dangerous way.

Her long black hair flowed down her back like silk, decorated with thin gold chains and delicate ornaments woven through the strands. Every movement made the jewelry shimmer softly in the light.

Her eyes were dark.

Clever.

Cruel.

Stephanie moved closer to Kevin as they walked, sliding her arm through his like it belonged there.

She leaned slightly into him, her fingers tracing the sleeve of his coat as if she couldn't bear not touching him.

Florence noticed the way Stephanie glanced around the room.

Making sure everyone saw.

Stephanie Myers was the Beta's daughter.

And Kevin Tate's current girlfriend.

The last wolf to enter was Timothy Myers.

Stephanie's twin brother.

Timothy looked less like a university student and more like a soldier already prepared for pack duty. His shoulders were wide, his movements controlled, and his dark hair was cut short in a practical style.

Unlike his sister, Timothy rarely smiled.

Unlike Kevin, he rarely spoke.

But he was always there.

Kevin's closest friend.

Kevin's shadow.

Kevin's loyal supporter.

Even when Kevin was wrong.

Florence lowered her eyes to the page in front of her.

Maybe they would pass.

Maybe they wouldn't notice her.

Sometimes Kevin ignored her.

Sometimes.

Not today.

Kevin spotted her almost immediately.

“Well, well,” he said lazily.

“Look what we have here.”

Stephanie followed his gaze.

Her lips curved into a slow smile.

“Oh,” she said softly. “The library ghost.”

Kevin laughed.

Florence closed her book slowly.

“Please,” she said quietly.

“Could you keep your voices down? This is a library.”

For one second there was silence.

Then Kevin burst out laughing.

Stephanie leaned against him, laughing too, her hand resting comfortably on his chest.

“Oh no,” she whispered mockingly.

“The omega is giving orders.”

Kevin stepped closer to Florence's table.

“Tell me something, Florence,” he said.

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

“Do you actually believe anyone here cares what you want?”

Florence stared at the table.

She didn't answer.

Stephanie moved closer, still clinging lightly to Kevin's arm.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “she's twenty-four now.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow.

“Still unmated?”

Stephanie nodded dramatically.

“How tragic.”

Timothy leaned against a shelf nearby.

His eyes flicked briefly toward Florence.

There was something in his expression.

Something uncomfortable.

But he said nothing.

Kevin folded his arms.

“The weakest wolf in Red Hollow,” he said casually.

Stephanie laughed.

“And have you seen her wolf?”

“A fox,” Kevin said.

Florence's fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

Stephanie leaned closer to her.

“You know what the pack says about you, right?”

Florence whispered:

“I just want to read.”

Stephanie's smile sharpened.

Then her hand moved.