Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

# Chapter 1: The Wolf-less Girl --- The mud was cold against my knees. I didn't bother getting up. Not right away. The boys who'd knocked me down were already laughing their way across the training yard, and complaining wouldn't do me any good. It never did. "Watch where you're going, Wolf-less!" I watched mud seep through the fabric of my dress, dark and wet and permanent. Stains I'd spend the evening scrubbing out, if the water pump was working. If I had enough soap. If— I pressed my palms into the dirt and pushed myself up. The training yard was mostly empty now. Morning drills had ended, and the warriors had dispersed to their posts, their homes, their warm meals. I could still smell them in the air—sweat and leather and the sharp tang of wolf. Real wolves. The kind that lived inside them, waiting to break free under the next full moon. I'd never felt mine. Not once in eighteen years. I wiped my hands on my dress and started walking. Through the mud. Past the training posts. Past the stares. Someone snickered. "Look at her. Can't even shift and she walks around like she belongs here." I kept my eyes forward. The truth was, I didn't belong here. I'd been told that every single day for as long as I could remember. Blood Moon Pack was one of the strongest territories in the seven kingdoms, and its members reflected that strength. Tall warriors. Fast runners. Sharp eyes. And then there was me. Raven Blackwood. Five-foot-four. No wolf. No family. No future. My parents had died when I was too young to remember them, leaving me with nothing but a name and a debt to the pack that had taken me in out of obligation. I'd spent eighteen years trying to repay that debt by keeping my head down, doing the work no one else wanted, and never—ever—complaining. It hadn't made them like me. It had barely made them tolerate me. I rounded the corner past the pack house and headed toward the kitchens. That's where I worked. Where I always worked. Scrubbing pots, hauling water, chopping vegetables. The kind of jobs that required no wolf, no strength, nothing but time and endurance. Two things I had in abundance. "Raven." I stopped. Mira, the head cook, stood in the doorway with her arms crossed. She was the closest thing I had to someone who didn't hate me, which meant she mostly just tolerated me with a sort of weary resignation. "Come inside. You're shivering." I hadn't noticed. But now that she mentioned it, my hands were shaking. The autumn air had teeth this year, and my dress was thin. It was always thin. "Yes, ma'am." The kitchen was warm, at least. The hearth crackled with a fire that Mira kept burning through all hours of the day and night. I moved toward it instinctively, letting the heat soak into my fingers. "You're thinking about tonight." It wasn't a question. I didn't answer. Tonight. The Mate Ceremony. Every werewolf in Blood Moon Territory had been talking about it for weeks. Alpha Marcus had reached the age where tradition demanded he choose his Luna, and the entire pack was buzzing with speculation. Who would he pick? Which noble family would get the honor? Which lucky she-wolf would stand beside him as the future of their territory? I'd told myself not to hope. I'd told myself a hundred times. A thousand times. *Don't hope, Raven. Hope is dangerous. Hope is how they break you.* But I couldn't help it. Because Marcus was my fated mate. I knew it the way every wolf knew their mate bond—a pull deep in my chest that had been there since the day I turned sixteen. I'd never told anyone. What was the point? A wolf-less girl claiming to be the Alpha's fated mate? They'd have laughed me out of the territory. But the bond was real. I'd felt it every time Marcus walked past me. A warmth that spread through my ribs, a magnetic pull that made me want to follow him, to be near him, to— *Stop.* I squeezed my eyes shut. *Don't hope.* "Raven." Mira's voice was gentler now. "Sit down. Eat something." I opened my eyes. "I'm not hungry." "You're always not hungry. Sit anyway." I sat. She placed a bowl of stew in front of me, and I stared at it without seeing it. The steam curled upward, carrying the smell of meat and herbs, and my stomach turned. *Tonight.* Marcus would choose tonight. If he chose me—if he honored the bond—everything would change. I'd be Luna. I'd have a place in this pack. I'd have a family. I'd never have to scrub another pot or sleep in the cold servant's quarters or flinch when someone called me Wolf-less. And maybe—*maybe*—the bond would finally unlock whatever was sleeping inside me. Maybe Marcus's acceptance would be the key that awakened my wolf. Or maybe. Maybe he wouldn't choose me. I pushed the stew away. "Raven—" "Thank you for the food, Mira. I need to get ready." She didn't stop me as I stood. Didn't call after me as I walked out the back door into the grey afternoon light. She knew. Everyone knew. The whole pack had watched me grow up as the unwanted orphan, and they were watching tonight to see what would happen. I walked to the edge of the territory, past the last houses, past the watchtowers, to the small hill where I'd always gone when I needed to think. The grass was dead here, brown and brittle under my feet. Winter was coming. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked out at the Blood Moon lands stretching below me. *Please.* I didn't know who I was begging. The Moon Goddess. Fate. The universe. *Please let him choose me.* The wind picked up, cold and sharp against my cheeks. And then—the bell. Deep. Loud. Resonant. One ring. Two. Three. The ceremony bell. My blood turned to ice. It was time. --- **End of Chapter 1**