Thunder's True Mate

It was Daisy Green's birthday. The pack house glowed with light. Servants hurried past with flowers and trays; laughter and music floated up from the ballroom. Someone had hung a long banner over the stairs: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROSALIE. Daisy's fingers tightened around the railing. Once, when her real mother was alive, every banner here had carried Daisy's name. She had been the pampered little princess of Green Forest Pack, Alpha Green's only daughter, the child everyone claimed to adore. Then her mother's funeral had been followed by Amanda's arrival, by Rosalie's golden curls and easy smiles. Rosalie, Amanda's daughter from a previous marriage, shared none of Alpha Green's blood, yet somehow every gift and every fond look had drifted to her instead. In theory Daisy was still the pack's princess. In reality she was just the girl standing beneath a banner printed with someone else's name. A servant rushed by with a bouquet. The card on it read, in gold letters: To Rosalie. Not one card carried Daisy's name. “Daisy, come here a second," a sweet voice called. She turned. Rosalie stood before a tall mirror in a pale pink gown. Her blond curls were pinned up, glittering with tiny jewels. Amanda, Daisy's stepmother, fastened a diamond necklace around Rosalie's neck. “How is it?" Amanda asked. “My Rosalie looks like a princess, doesn't she?" Daisy walked a few steps closer. “It's my birthday too," she said quietly. Amanda's smile did not change. “Of course, dear. I haven't forgotten. But Rosalie will be greeting the guests tonight. She has to stand out. You understand, don't you? You two are such good sisters." Rosalie twirled, skirt fanning out. “Be honest, Daisy," she said, eyes bright. “Do I look okay?" “You look fine," Daisy replied. Rosalie's smile grew. “Thank you, sister. I hope you don't mind if people watch me more. You never liked crowds anyway, right?" Amanda added, “Daisy has always been shy. Let her stay somewhere quiet. It suits her." The words sank into Daisy like small stones. “I don't hate crowds," she said. “And it is my birthday too." Amanda sighed softly. “You're still so sensitive. Daisy, I married your father when you were young. I've treated you like my own." Daisy kept her face calm and said nothing. In her mind she saw her real mother's gentle smile, then the cold white flowers at the funeral. After that, Amanda had come with Rosalie and bright perfume, filling every corner of the house. “Your father is busy preparing for the ceremony," Amanda said briskly. “He wants everything perfect. Rosalie, we still need to fix your hair." Rosalie glanced at Daisy in the mirror. “Cheer up," she said, voice light. “You're engaged to Charles, remember? The future Alpha of Thunder Storm. Half the girls on the continent would die for that." Daisy's heart jumped at his name. In this house where every smile slid past her to land on Rosalie, Charles was the one thing that still seemed to belong to Daisy alone. When she thought of him, she imagined a distant door standing open in a wall she could not otherwise cross. As long as the mate bond tied them together, she wasn't just the forgotten daughter of Green Forest Pack; she was the future Luna of Thunder Storm. One day she would stand at Charles's side, not in some shadowed corner while her sister shone, but in front of everyone with a title no one could take away. If she married him, she could leave this cold house behind and finally start a life that was hers alone. Everyone in the continent knew Charles: heir to Thunder Storm, the strongest pack on the mainland. Girls in every territory dreamed of becoming his Luna. He hadn't chosen Daisy because he loved her, but because the Moon Goddess had bound their wolves when they met and marked them as fated mates. That bond was the only reason he would one day take her away from Green Forest Pack. “Yes," Amanda said, a flash of envy in her eyes. “The Moon Goddess blessed you with a powerful fated mate. Your future is secure, Daisy. You should be grateful." Daisy lowered her gaze. “I know." At least Charles would take her away from this house. She left them and went to her room. A simple blue dress lay on the bed. It wasn't new. Amanda had said there was no need to “waste money on two birthday gowns." Daisy picked it up and smoothed the fabric. Outside, music rose and fell. Voices drifted through the window. She thought of her father, Alpha Green, leader of Green Forest Pack. On paper, she was the pack's princess. In practice, Rosalie—who didn't share a drop of his blood—received all the smiles and praise. Daisy set her jaw, put on the dress, and brushed her long dark hair. She tied it back with a plain ribbon and looked at herself in the mirror. A slim girl looked back, shoulders straight, eyes calm. “It's just one more night," she told her reflection. “Then you go to Thunder Storm. Then you leave." She had barely opened her door when Amanda's voice cut through the hallway. “Daisy! There you are." Amanda walked toward her quickly, skirts swaying, face lined with worry. “What is it?" Daisy asked. “I just checked the wine cellar," Amanda said. “We're a little short on the red wine Charles's parents prefer. On a night like this, everything has to be perfect for our guests—especially for you and Rosalie." “Send someone to buy more," Daisy said. “I am," Amanda replied. “You." Daisy stared. “Me? Charles will be here soon. I should be here to greet him." Rosalie stepped out behind Amanda, hands clasped. “Mother, maybe we can ask one of the warriors," she said softly. “It's Daisy's birthday too." Amanda shook her head. “The warriors are busy with security, and I can't spare any more servants from the guests," she said gently. “Besides, you and Rosalie are such good sisters—everyone knows how close you are. I'm sure you won't refuse to run a little errand for her on your shared birthday, will you, Daisy?" Rosalie looked at Daisy with big, worried eyes. “I tried," she whispered. “Really." Daisy ignored her. “The town is far," she told Amanda. “It'll be dark." “It won't if you use the back street," Amanda answered at once. “It's the quickest way. You're a wolf, Daisy, not a child. Go now and come straight back. Or are you refusing to help your pack on the day we welcome Thunder Storm?" Daisy's wolf shifted uneasily inside her. Something felt wrong. The timing was wrong. The back street was narrow and quiet. But Amanda's gaze was steady and firm. “I'm not refusing," Daisy said. “Good." Amanda's smile returned. “Rosalie, keep practicing your greeting. Daisy, hurry." Rosalie caught Daisy's arm and squeezed it lightly. “Be careful," she murmured. “I'll tell Charles you stepped out for a bit. He'll understand." Daisy pulled her arm free. “You don't have to explain anything for me." She went downstairs, found the folded list on the foyer table, and stepped outside. Cool air brushed her face, scented with pine and distant smoke. The sun hung low over the forest, turning the sky gold. Daisy walked quickly down the path toward the small town at the edge of their territory. Shopkeepers greeted her politely. She bought the wine and snacks on the list. They wished her a happy birthday, but their eyes kept sliding past her toward the road that led to the pack house. They're here for Rosalie, she thought, lips pressing thin. By the time she finished, the sky had turned orange. Long shadows stretched across the street. “I need to hurry," she muttered. She shifted the box of wine in her arms and took the narrow back street Amanda had mentioned. It ran between rows of old brick houses, quieter than the main road. Closed shutters. A few dim lights. The buzz of insects. Her footsteps echoed on the pavement. Halfway down the alley, the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Her wolf lifted its head. We're not alone. Daisy slowed. The alley looked normal: a trash bin, a broken chair, a flickering lamp. But behind her, another set of footsteps matched her pace, heavy and steady. She glanced over her shoulder. A man in a black hoodie had turned into the alley. Two more followed, all in dark clothes, caps pulled low. Daisy's heart thudded. Maybe they're just passing through, she told herself. Maybe it's nothing. She faced forward again and walked faster. Near the exit, a van was parked close to the wall. As she approached, three more men stepped out from behind it. They were also dressed in black. They spread out, blocking the way. Daisy stopped. The box of wine turned into stone in her arms. Behind her, the footsteps drew closer. Boots scraped on stone. The air grew heavy and tight. “Well, look at that," a rough voice said behind her. “The birthday girl really came alone." Daisy turned slowly. The men from both ends of the alley moved closer, forming a loose circle. Their faces were half hidden, but she felt their eyes slide over her like cold hands. Her wolf snarled inside her chest. Daisy lifted her chin. “Who are you?" she asked. “What do you want?" The nearest man grinned. “Don't be scared, sweetheart," he said. “We're just here to give you a little present." Every instinct in Daisy screamed that this was planned. “Stay away from me," she said, her voice flat. He laughed. “Can't. Orders are orders." “Whose orders?" Daisy demanded. His grin widened. “That," he said, “is not your concern." He took a step closer. The others followed, closing in. The narrow alley, the deepening dusk, the men in black—everything pressed around her like a cage. Her heart pounded. Her wolf clawed at her ribs, wild and restless. Daisy backed up until her shoulders hit the rough brick wall. There was no way out.