Fated To The Four Brothers Plus Their Lucan Daddy.

The morning sun was vicious. It poured over the training grounds like molten gold, indifferent to the scene it illuminated. I kept my back straight, my knees pressed into the hard-packed earth, and my eyes fixed on a point just beyond my tormentor's shoulder. The gravel bit into my skin. I didn't flinch. "Strip her naked and flog her," Delilah, my cousin, ordered with glee. The command hung in the air for a single, crystalline moment before the guards moved. Rough hands grabbed my thin shirt. The sound of tearing fabric was obscenely loud in the relative quiet, a sharp crack that echoed off the pack house walls. Cool air hit my skin, followed immediately by the searing, white-hot kiss of the first lash. Crack. My entire body seized. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, hard, the coppery taste of blood flooding my mouth. I would not scream. I would not give her that. Crack. The pain was a living thing, a fiery serpent coiling across my back. The pack members who lingered to watch, their faces were a blur in my periphery. Some looked away. Others watched with the detached curiosity of spectators at a festival. Tonight was the moon celebration, after all. This was just a bit of pre-show entertainment. Crack. I focused on the pain, let it sharpen my resolve. My teeth were gritted so hard my jaw ached, but I forced the corners of my mouth into a small, rigid curve. Satisfaction. Let her see satisfaction. Let her think her blows meant nothing. "Enough." Delilah's voice cut through the fog of agony. The guards stepped back immediately. Behind Delilah, her two sycophants, Lila and Mira, giggled, the sound high and tinkling and utterly cruel. My arms trembled as I slowly, painfully, gathered the torn remnants of my shirt and pressed the cloth to my bleeding shoulder. The fabric was damp and rough, and it stuck to the welts immediately. The pain was immense, a deep, throbbing fire that pulsed with every heartbeat. Aria! Let me out! Let me out now! Ellie, my wolf, raged within me. Her fury was a hot, frantic pulse, scratching at the inside of my mind. She cannot do this! I will tear her throat out! No, Ellie, I commanded, the effort of it costing me dearly. You know why. Stay quiet. A heart-wrenching whimper was my only reply, then silence. My Ellie, my once fiery, brilliant wolf, was now so weak. The strange, wasting illness that had befallen her made shifting impossible, and with each passing day, I felt her presence fading, like a light dimming in a distant room. I couldn't let her out. It would destroy her. Delilah sauntered closer, her pristine white shoes stopping just in front of me. "Well, Aria? Have you learned your lesson?" I opened my mouth, my voice a dry rasp. "Yes, my princess. I have learned my lesson." A slow, malicious smile spread across her face. "I don't think so." My blood ran cold. She lifted her foot, placing it on a small boulder beside her. She pointed to a glistening spot of spit on the pristine white leather of her shoe. "Lick it off." My face burned. Humiliation, so much sharper and deeper than the physical pain, flooded my veins. The snickering around me grew louder. Fingers pointed. I was a spectacle, a broken thing for their amusement. Ten years ago, these people would have bowed to me. Ten years ago, I was their princess. Princess. The word tasted like ash. I tried to rise, to find some shred of dignity, but the guards instantly shoved me back down, their growls rumbling in their chests. "Do as the Alpha princess says!" Alpha princess. I could have laughed. A bitter, furious laugh that I swallowed down. My parents, the true Alpha and Luna, had died ten years ago protecting me from a rogue attack. They had given their lives for mine. And in the absence of proof of my innocence—as if I needed to be proven innocent of being a victim—my aunt Victoria, my mother's younger sister, had been given temporary charge of the pack. The title of future Alpha princess had been stripped from me and bestowed upon Delilah. I didn't care about power. I never had. All I wanted, all I dreamed of in the quiet of my tiny closet of a room, was a mate. A powerful, handsome mate who would look at me with love, who would cherish me and take me away from this nightmare. But dreams were for princesses. And I was no longer one. With a shuddering breath, I lowered my head. I leaned forward, my torn shirt gaping, and touched my tongue to the cold, salty leather of Delilah's shoe. The taste of dirt and spit filled my mouth. I gagged, forcing the bile down. Delilah grinned, triumphant. "How does it taste, cousin?" I looked up, pasting a wooden smile on my face. "It tastes good, my princess." The words were ash and venom. They had to be said. If I didn't play her game, things would get infinitely worse. I knew that now. A single tear threatened to fall, but I furiously blinked it back. Just because my wolf was dying, just because I was alone, didn't mean I had to be weak. "What is going on here?" The authoritative voice cut through the crowd like a blade. Footsteps approached, and the onlookers parted. It was my aunt, Victoria. She looked so much like my mother—the same dark hair, the same elegant bearing. It was a resemblance that always felt like a knife to the heart. Delilah stiffened immediately, her smugness vanishing. Victoria took in the scene with a single, sweeping glance: my torn clothes, my bloodied back, the spit on her daughter's shoe. She didn't need to ask. She was the picture of graceful concern. She turned to Delilah, her voice a soft chiding. "Delilah, dear, what have I told you about these... childish games? You mustn't be so rough with your cousin. Aria, you look a sight." She then gave Delilah a sharp, hidden pinch on the arm that made her daughter yelp quietly. Victoria then turned to me, forcing a warm smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Run along now, Aria. Go and get cleaned up. You need to prepare for the banquet tonight. I've sent some clothes to your room." A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd. "Such a fair Alpha," someone whispered. "So good to her sister's child." I knew the truth. This was a performance. The clothes would be rags, the kindness a sham. But I simply nodded, my throat too tight for words, and slowly, agonizingly, got to my feet. As I started to stumble away, I heard Lila whisper to Delilah, "Come on, we need to get ready. I heard Caleb is back today." Caleb. The Beta's son. He'd been away for a year for his final training. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a smile that could melt the moon itself. Every eligible she-wolf in the pack dreamed of catching his eye. I pushed the thought away and limped towards the pack house, to my room. It wasn't a room, really. It was a converted storage closet at the end of a dusty hall, a space so small a bed barely fit. My old suite, the one I'd grown up in, now belonged to Delilah. Inside, I locked the door and stood before the tiny, cracked mirror propped on a crate. The sobs I'd been holding back finally broke free, silent and wrenching. I peeled away the bloody remnants of my shirt and turned. My back was a canvas of red, raised welts. Ellie stirred within me, a low, mournful keen in my mind. I washed as best I could, hissing at the sting of cold water on my wounds. The clothes Victoria had sent were laid out on the bed. A pale white gown, cheap and ill-fitting, clearly one of Delilah's old, discarded dresses. It was a message. Know your place. But I put it on anyway. I had no choice. Finally presentable, I stepped out of my closet and into the hall, my head down, lost in a fog of pain and humiliation. I turned a corner and walked straight into a wall of solid, warm muscle. I gasped, stumbling back, but strong hands caught my arms, steadying me. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't—" I looked up, and the words died in my throat. Caleb. He was even more magnificent than I remembered. He towered over me, his large frame seeming to block out the entire corridor. The afternoon sun streamed through a window behind him, haloing his dark hair and making his eyes, the color of warm whiskey, gleam. He was every she-wolf's dream, standing right in front of me, his hands gentle on my arms. "Aria, right?" His voice was a low rumble. "Are you alright? You look a little pale." I was drooling. I was literally, mentally, drooling. I snapped my mouth shut and managed a jerky nod. "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you." I pulled away from his touch, my skin tingling where he'd held me. I hoped he couldn't see the ridiculous flush I felt creeping up my neck. "Looking good, Aria. Love the dress," a mocking voice drawled from behind Caleb. Jax, Caleb's friend, leaned against the wall, a smirk plastered on his face. His eyes raked over my too-small, outdated gown with obvious derision. Humiliation, fresh and sharp, lanced through me. I curled my fingers into the cheap fabric of the dress, wishing the floor would open up and swallow me whole. But Caleb didn't even turn around. He just shook his head slightly, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features before he looked back at me. His smile was kind, a private little smile just for me. "Take care of yourself, Aria." Then he was gone, walking past me with Jax in tow, their footsteps echoing down the hall. I stood there, frozen, the ghost of his smile still lingering in the air. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, pounding out a rhythm that drowned out the pain, the humiliation, everything. Caleb.