The Alpha’s Trial Bride

Nerissa's Pov. The first time my mate looked at me, he looked like he wanted to kill someone. Unfortunately, that someone was me. I should have known the Moon Goddess hated me. There I stood in the middle of the Sacred Mate Ceremony, wearing a dress that clung to every curve I’d spent my entire life trying to hide, while hundreds of wolves stared at me like I was a bad joke that had somehow learned how to breathe. The air in the pack hall was thick with incense, sweat, and anticipation. Girls my age stood straighter than usual tonight, their eyes shining, cheeks flushed, hands trembling with hope. Every unmated she-wolf dreamed of this night. The night the Moon Goddess revealed our fated partners. Most girls imagined romance. I imagined survival. Because girls like me didn’t get chosen. Girls like me got laughed at. “Why is Nerissa Hale even here?” someone whispered behind me. I heard it. I always heard it. “She should’ve stayed home and saved herself the embarrassment.” “Maybe the Moon Goddess will bless her with a treadmill instead of a mate.” A burst of laughter followed, low and cruel. My fingers tightened around the hem of my dress until my knuckles burned white. Don’t cry. Not here. Not tonight. Not in front of them. I kept my head down and inhaled slowly, pretending I couldn’t feel the stares crawling all over my skin like insects. Pretending I didn’t hear the snickers. Pretending my chest didn’t ache with the same old humiliation I’d carried since I was old enough to understand what ugly meant. At nineteen, I already knew my place in this pack. Not Luna. Not desired. Not wanted. Just tolerated. Barely. I shifted my weight, trying to ignore the way my shoes pinched and my dress cut into my waist. Aunt Mira had altered one of her old gowns for me, staying up until midnight last night to loosen the seams. “You deserve to feel pretty at least once,” she’d whispered while sewing by candlelight. That almost made me cry harder than the insults. Because Aunt Mira was the only person in this pack who had ever looked at me and seen a girl instead of a flaw. The ceremonial drums began to beat. Once. Twice. Then silence swallowed the hall. Every head turned toward the grand staircase at the front of the chamber. And then he appeared. Alpha Kael Draven. The future ruler of Black Hollow Pack. The most feared, worshipped, desired male in all five territories. And the cruelest man I had ever laid eyes on. A shiver ran down my spine as he descended the stairs in slow, effortless steps, dressed in black ceremonial clothes that fit his tall, muscular body like they’d been made by the devil himself. Broad shoulders. Hard jaw. Dark hair. Cold silver eyes that never looked warm, never looked kind, never looked at anyone for too long. The girls around me visibly straightened. One actually whimpered. I hated that I understood why. Kael Draven was the kind of man women ruined themselves for. Beautiful enough to pray to. Dangerous enough to die for. He didn’t glance at anyone as he moved to the center of the hall, beside the Moon Priestess. His expression was carved from stone, unreadable and merciless. Then the ceremony began. One by one, names were called. Mates found each other in tears, in gasps, in joy. A girl fainted when she discovered she was bonded to a Beta’s son. Another sobbed into her mate’s chest while the pack clapped and howled in celebration. I stood in the back, invisible and aching, counting down the seconds until it would be over. Until I could go home. Until I could peel this dress off and bury whatever tiny, pathetic hope still lived inside me. Then the Priestess lifted her head. Her clouded white eyes swept over the room. And she said my name. “Nerissa Hale.” The entire hall went silent. Not normal silent. Not respectful silent. Humiliated silent. The kind of silence people made when they were trying not to laugh too loudly. My stomach dropped. My feet wouldn’t move at first. I felt every eye in the room snap toward me as I forced myself forward, each step heavier than the last. My heart was pounding so violently I thought I might actually pass out before I reached the ceremonial circle. The Priestess extended her hand toward me. Then she turned. Toward him. No. No. No. My pulse froze. My breath caught. The room tilted. Please no. Please— “Alpha Kael Draven,” the Priestess announced, her voice echoing through the chamber like a death sentence, “step forward to your fated mate.”