CHAPTER ONE
Celeste’s POV
“Get up, you lazy mutt!” snapped a voice I recognized all too well.
It was Marla, one of the she-wolves assigned to the kitchens but who seemed to enjoy tormenting me more than cooking.
“The Inauguration Ceremony is today, and the hall’s a mess.”
Dorian Maddox, the Alpha’s son, turned twenty-two today and was to be officially crowned.
I pushed myself upright, limbs aching.
“Yes, Marla,” I whispered, not daring to meet her eyes.
She tossed a bundle of worn clothes at me and sneered.
“Wear something decent, you filthy thing! You’re representing the pack, even if only as its dirt-stained shadow!”
The door slammed behind her, and the lock clicked again.
I changed quickly, slipping on the cardigan with holes at the elbows, and tightened it around my trembling frame.
The cold had seeped into my bones, but there was no time to dwell.
The room they kept me in wasn’t much more than a glorified cell—four damp, stone walls, a single cot with a thinning mattress, and no windows to tell whether it was day or night.
The lock on the outside clinked open only when they needed something from me—laundry done, floors scrubbed, stables cleaned, or sometimes just to have a body to scream at.
Most days I wasn’t spoken to unless it was to be insulted, slapped, or ordered around.
The others treated me like I didn’t exist until it was convenient.
I, Celeste Arden, was the ghost of the Shadow Hollow Pack—unseen, unheard, but always expected to serve!
I was let out only after they’d decided my presence was necessary.
As I stepped into the main corridor, the light stung my eyes after days in the dark.
I squinted, clutching my coat tighter around myself.
The hallway smelled of incense and lavender polish. The air buzzed with tension—today was the ceremony.
Despite being up the entire previous night scrubbing the corridor leading to the hall, I was immediately sent to the wardrobe chamber.
Ceremonial garments—dozens of them—needed pressing. The fabric was delicate, stitched with silver threads and moonstone embellishments. If I ruined even one, I wouldn’t be allowed food for days.
Hours passed with my fingers moving in a dull rhythm over the ironing board.
My wrists ached, my shoulders burned, but I couldn’t stop—not if I wanted to survive.
By the time I finished the last cloak, I was scrubbing the marble steps just outside the hall when I felt a sharp slap on my back.
It was Karen, another she-wolf.
“You useless bastard! How slow can one person be? The whole day’s wasted because of your pathetic pace!
Maybe this will finally slap some sense into that thick skull of yours and make you move like a real person, for once!”
She clapped her hands, and a younger wolf came dragging a barrel of waste and scraps from the kitchens.
Karen didn’t hesitate.
She made sure the contents were dumped onto the steps I’d just finished scrubbing. The rancid stench hit me like a slap.
My eyes stung.
Karen stepped back, arms folded and her smile triumphant.
“Clean it with your hands,” she said coolly.
I didn’t move.
She tilted her head.
“No? Then maybe you’d prefer being locked in the stockades this time. Perhaps someone will toss bones at you.”
I sank to my knees.
I wiped the filth with my bare hands, tears slipping silently down my cheeks. I refused to sob, at least, not in front of her.
Karen clicked her tongue.
“You were born to be a slave!”
She turned and walked off, her heels clicking like nails in a coffin.
Once alone, I sat back on my heels and let myself cry. I missed my parents more than words could express.
Greg and Alicia had once stood tall as Betas of the Shadow Hollow Pack—strong, wise, and fair. They were warriors with the heart of a king and queen.
I was their daughter.
They used to tell me I was meant for greatness. I believed them… until the day they were executed.
They said my parents killed the Alpha and his Luna.
My parents swore they didn’t. But no one listened.
They were killed!
And I… I was just the child they left behind.
After that, I was no longer Celeste, daughter of the Betas, but a pathetic slave!
The elders stripped me of everything, from my status, inheritance, even my last name!
They locked me away, fed me only scraps, and treated me as though I carried my parents' alleged sins in my blood.
But I never believed it.
My parents didn’t kill anyone, and I would prove it one day!
"Don’t cry, Celeste. I’m still here." My wolf, Selah, whispered in my mind.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "I know. You’re the only one who hasn’t left me."
"You’re never alone. Someday, your mate will find you."
"I’m already twenty-one, Selah. What if he never comes?"
"You’re not forgotten," she said firmly.
"And your story isn’t over."
I clenched my fists. No, it wasn’t.
I would find my parents’ killer. I would restore their honor. Even if it meant crawling through mud and blood to do it. I wasn’t born to serve!
