Fated By The Moon, Claimed By Three

Elara stood barefoot in the forest, the chill of the morning air wrapping around her like a blanket. She didn't mind the cold anymore; she actually barely even noticed it. The hem of her thin dress was soaked from the morning dew, making her feel even more out of place in a world that didn't seem to have space for her. In her hands, she clutched a small bunch of herbs... probably not useful for anything... but they gave her a sense of purpose. Having something to hold onto made her feel a little less invisible, like she was at least a part of this world, even if it was just on the edges. The wind rustled through the trees, tangling her white-blonde hair across her face. She didn't bother to sweep it away; her hands felt too numb to do much. Her heart was heavy, worn out from carrying the weight of days that seemed to stretch endlessly. It was a rough morning, just like the ones before. She woke up stiff and sore, with a bruise on her shoulder and no idea how it got there. But honestly, these days, it didn't really matter. Everything hurt... the ache in her body mirrored the tiredness in her spirit. When she walked through the Pack's village, the stares felt as sharp as knives. Most of the time, people ignored her, but sometimes she heard the whispers that followed her around like shadows. "Look, she's still here." "I thought the witch's daughter would have left by now." "What a useless omega." Those words stung. She had heard them all so many times that she could recite them herself. At one point, she had fought against the insults. There were nights she cried herself to sleep, dreaming about a friend who might stand up for her, but that fight was long gone now. She had learned to just keep her head down and let the harsh words wash over her. Fighting back seemed to only make things worse, so she gave up. Her mother had once been respected... a real witch, talented and summoned to serve the royals. But Elara? She had no magic, no wolf powers, no strength. She became a mere shadow of her mother's legacy, a ghost drifting through life. "Elara." The voice sliced through her thoughts, icy and piercing. She froze, not wanting to turn around. But slowly, she did, and there they were: four men standing behind her. One stepped forward. It was Beta Rusan. He was tall and muscular, his dark hair giving him an air of authority that felt suffocating. His eyes, expressionless and cold, bore into her. "We need to talk," he said without preamble. Elara nodded, though uncertainty knotted in her stomach. "Okay..." But talking wasn't on the agenda. Before she could say more, they grabbed her arms, dragging her away from the little safety she felt in the forest. She stumbled along with them, her feet barely keeping up as they moved deeper into the woods, where the trees stood taller, and the air felt chilling and harsh. She didn't resist; she just didn't have it in her. Fear coiled tight in her chest, an awful feeling telling her that something was seriously wrong. "Where are we going?" she managed to ask quietly as if speaking too loudly might summon something worse. No one replied. When they finally reached the edge of a steep cliff, reality crashed down on her like a tidal wave. The cliff loomed above her, jagged and formidable, shrouded in mist and shadow. The wind yowled beneath her, carrying the scent of pine and something else far away... water, maybe. Elara's heart raced as she peered over the edge. It felt like the ground vanished right beneath her feet, sending a jolt of panic through her. Turning back, she faced Rusan. "Why are we here?" He advanced towards her, his gaze hard. "You should've died at birth," he spat. Her breath caught in her throat; she opened her mouth, but no words came out. "You bring nothing but weakness to our village," he continued, his voice steady and cruel. "Your mother never failed the royals, however, you've failed this pack. You don't belong here." "I... I haven't done anything wrong," she stammered, her voice shaking and small. "And that's the problem," one of the men behind him said, sneering. Tears pricked her eyes, but she held them back. Not now. Rusan stepped closer, his breath hot and foul. "The moon goddess doesn't make mistakes, but you? You're a leftover, a reminder of shame." She wasn't the moon goddess. She's Elara. Yet, they kept comparing her with the goddess and her mother. She could feel her knees trembling beneath her, the fear flooding her system. "Please... don't do this..." With a lean closer than she wanted, he whispered, "The pack is stronger without you. Don't worry, your mother abandoned you so she'll never look for you," And then, he pushed her. The wind howled as gravity took hold. Elara plummeted through the air, her body twisting and hitting branches and rocks on the way down. The world blurred as she fell, and she barely had time for a scream before a sharp pain shot through her body—then nothing. She hit something hard, and it was like all the lights in her world went out at once. Time seemed to stretch endlessly. She couldn't tell how long it had been since she fell. Every part of her felt heavy, her skin sore and bruised. The cold seeped into her bones like ice. Somewhere nearby, water rushed—maybe a river or a stream. Then... voices echoed around her. "Is she breathing?" "She's alive." "Well, barely." "She looks like a broken thing." There was a pause, and then a voice came through... softer and warmer. "She fell from the sky, so I guess she's ours." A rough hand grazed her cheek, gentle but firm. Where he touched her, Elara felt warmth spreading like fire through her skin. "She's freezing. Let's get her back," one of the men said. "Why? We don't even know who she is," another grunted. "It doesn't matter. She's cute and I'd like to keep her," came the warmer voice again, firm as if anchored by a belief that struck her somehow. She opened her eyes, barely able to see through the haze of pain and fog that clouded her vision. Standing above her were three towering figures... wolves maybe. They looked strong yet gentle, watching her like she was something precious and fragile. One of them crouched down beside her, his eyes filled with sadness. "Hey, we've got you," he whispered softly. Then, just like that, everything faded to black once more.