MOONBOUND Beauty under a curse

--- *CHAPTER ONE: WOLFFESS* The full moon was rising over the Frostwood Pack. I stood at the edge of the border, bare feet in the snow. They called me wolfless. Cursed. The Elder called me a problem that needed to be "dealt with." I was 20 years old and I’d never shifted. The silver scars on my arms burned every full moon. The other girls whispered that I was bad luck. I had no one to defend me. My parents died 8 years ago in a rogue attack. I was 12. After the funeral, the Elder told the pack: "The Moon Goddess took them. She left us the broken one." So when the Shadowlands Alpha demanded a tribute, they all looked at me. "The Shadowlands Alpha requires payment," the Elder announced at the pack meeting. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. "One girl. No wolf. No family to miss her." No family to miss her. That was me. I didn’t beg. Begging never brought my parents back. I just pulled my cloak tighter and walked to the border alone. The ride to the Shadowlands took all night. No guards. No chains. Because where would I go? Every pack knew Anatansia. The orphan. The disgrace. The Shadowlands gates were made of bone and black iron. Wolves lined the walls. Hundreds. And in the center courtyard, he was waiting. Alpha Lucian. He wasn’t on a throne. He was leaning against it, arms crossed. Moonlight hit the silver crown in his dark hair and the scars on his throat. His shirt was half-unbuttoned. He looked bored. And lethal. When he saw me step out of the carriage, his whole body went still. My scars ignited. White hot. From wrist to collarbone. He pushed off the throne. Slow. Each step made the snow crunch. His gold eyes raked over me. My thin cloak. My bare feet. The scars I couldn’t hide. "So," his voice was low, rough. It rolled over me. "The Frostwood sent me their trash." The court murmured. He lifted one hand and the whole place went silent. He stopped right in front of me. Close enough that I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes. Then he grabbed my wrist. Not rough. Possessive. He turned my arm over, exposing the silver scars. His thumb brushed over them. Once. I gasped. The burn went from pain to fire under his touch. His pupils blew wide. "Wrong," he murmured, for me only. His scent hit me — smoke and winter. "You’re not wolfless." His gaze lifted to mine and pinned me. "You’re cursed. And you’re mine." The bond hit like lightning. _Mate._ It crashed into my head and his at the same time. For a second the ruthless alpha looked wrecked. Shock. Hunger. Fury. Then his jaw tightened. "Take her to the east wing," he told his beta, voice cutting through the silence. "Give her a room. Clothes. Food." A pause. His gold eyes burned into me. "And send a message to Frostwood: If they ever throw away one of their own again — especially one with no one left — I will consider it an act of war." He turned and walked into the dark castle. Leaving me standing there. Orphaned. And claimed by a king