The Pack's Daughters
Chapter 1:
Aysel's POV
The Moonlight Hall shimmered.
Wolves from every bloodline bowed in reverence, their breaths trembling as the drums of the Luna Ceremony thundered through the night.
And I stood at the center of it all-barefoot, veiled in white moon-silk, the sacred mark glowing faintly on my wrist.
In a few more breaths, I would speak the words that would bind my soul to Alpha Damon, heir of the Blackwood Pack-the strongest Alpha the eastern realm had seen in a century.
My voice would seal our bond.
My vow would crown me Luna.
And the entire pack would kneel to me.
But fate-no, my adopted sister Celestine Ward-always found a way to make me bleed.
"Aysel Vale," the High Priest intoned, his voice echoing through the marble arches. "Step forward, and swear before the Moon Goddess your vow to the Alpha."I did.
The silk of my gown whispered against the floor as I faced Damon. His silver eyes caught mine, softer than I remembered, yet distant-as if I was something he'd already owned and forgotten.
"I, Aysel Vale-"
Bang!
The heavy oak doors of the Moonlight Hall burst open.
Knox Draven, heir of the Ironhowl Pack, stumbled in, breathless. "Celestine is hurt!" he shouted.
The words struck the room like lightning.
The chanting stopped.
The moonfire dimmed.
Even the goddess herself seemed to hold her breath.
At the altar's center, Damon froze. The ceremonial crown in his hands clattered to the floor, rolling to my feet.
"What did you say?" His voice was hoarse."Lady Vale just called," Knox gasped. "Celestine's been attacked by rogues. She's in the healers' ward. It's bad."
The hall erupted into gasps and whispers. The elders rose, the warriors stirred-but all I saw was Damon, already stepping down from the altar, already forgetting that his Luna stood before him.
Because Celestine Ward-the darling of my pack, the fragile, flawless adopted daughter-was hurt.
"Damon," I said softly, the single word catching in my throat.
He didn't even look at me.
I reached for him, fingers trembling beneath the veil. "You don't want to finish the ritual?"
He turned slightly, his eyes filled with something I used to mistake for tenderness. "Aysel... Celestine needs me. I'll be right back."
Right back.
Like all the other nights he said that and never came.
I smiled faintly. "And what if I don't let you go? You know I despise her."His gaze hardened. "Aysel, this isn't the time for jealousy."
Jealousy.
That was always the word he used to silence me.
When Celestine fainted in his arms and I waited alone in our quarters.
When she cried about her dreams and he held her until dawn.
When he said, "You're my future, Aysel," even as his eyes followed her across the hall.
Now he stood before the entire pack and said the same thing-again.
"My vow," I whispered, my voice shaking, "only comes once."
Damon's expression flickered with guilt-but not enough to stop him. "Don't be dramatic," he said softly, almost like a scolding. "You've waited twenty years for this Luna mark. You can wait another night."
The murmurs started immediately:
"She's not even Luna yet, and he already runs to another she-wolf.""Perhaps the Moon Goddess changed her mind."
"How pitiful-to be abandoned mid-ceremony."
The sound of them carved into me deeper than any blade.
Skylar stepped forward, fury blazing in her eyes. "Damon, are you her healer or her mate? Every time Celestine faints, it's you she calls for! You think she times her ‘attacks' for nothing?"
Gasps filled the hall.
Damon's eyes darkened. "Skylar, enough. Mind your tongue."
"No," she snapped. "You mind yours, Alpha. Look at your Luna-she's breaking, and all you see is Celestine."
He turned to me, jaw tight. "Aysel, control your friend. Don't make this worse."
Control.
Another word he loved to use-control your anger, control your tone, control your jealousy.
All while he lost control every time Celestine so much as whispered his name.The High Priest's trembling voice broke through the silence. "Alpha, if the moon sets before her vow, the bond cannot-"
"I don't care!" Damon roared. "I won't let Celestine die!"
And just like that, he left.
He left me standing in the ruins of my own coronation, surrounded by whispers and broken vows.
One by one, they all followed him-priests, elders, even the wolves who had sworn loyalty to me. The moonfire dimmed, the sacred music died, and the scent of crushed petals turned sour in the air.
Skylar's fists trembled at her sides. "Say the word, Aysel. I'll make him regret this."
But I couldn't speak. I couldn't move.
Because for years, I'd watched him walk away.
Every time she cried, he went to her. Every time I bled, he told me to endure.
And every time, I forgave him.
But not this time.This time, I watched him go-and something inside me broke clean in half.
The altar's communication stone flickered. A message shimmered across its surface, carved in mocking silver light:
"You lost."
Celestine Ward.
I wiped my tears and looked up at the Moon Altar-the place where I was meant to be crowned, now littered with broken petals and his discarded vows.
Maybe I lost my Luna crown tonight.
But the game isn't over yet.
Chapter 2:
Aysel's POV
Three nights ago, Celestine came to find me.
"You know Damon's planning your Luna Coronation, right?" she said sweetly, though venom laced every syllable.
Her eyes-those wide, shimmering amber eyes everyone called gentle-hid something darker that only I ever saw: envy, sharp and starving.
"I heard the Elders wanted to skip the ceremony entirely and announce the bond straightaway," she continued, brushing an invisible speck from her silk sleeve. "But Damon insisted on doing it properly-he wanted to hear your ‘yes' himself. Isn't that romantic?"
I looked up from the documents on my desk, keeping my tone even. "So?"
Her lips curved, too slow, too deliberate. "So, Aysel, you-of all wolves-don't deserve happiness."
She tilted her head, the candlelight glinting off her pale hair. "Let's make a bet, cousin. Three nights from now, your pretty coronation won't happen at all."
And in that moment, I understood. She'd already set something in motion.
Celestine Ward, my aunt's daughter-taken in by my parents after her mother's death-my cousin by blood and foster sister by name, the Moonvale darling, my rival by fate, was never content unless she was standing on the ruins of my joy.
The Luna coronation ended in chaos.
One cry, one name-Celestine-and Damon had run.
As if the moon itself had called him.
The guests scattered. The chants died. The pack banners hung heavy, dripping with wax and silence.
Skylar tried to insist on driving me home-she'd seen my face, pale as bone-but a message came from the Frostfang elders. Something urgent. She had to go.
So I told her to leave. I lied and smiled like always, because that's what I'd been trained to do.
The hall emptied. I stayed behind, staring at the crushed moon-roses littering the marble floor. For a long while, I said nothing. Then, quietly, I laughed.
Because it was almost funny, wasn't it?The ceremony, the vows, the illusion of choice.
I left the Moonvale Hall past midnight, walking along the river under the faint scent of blooming nightshade. The moonlight on the water looked like a wound trying to heal.
I didn't want to go home. Not yet. The house would smell like disappointment and old grief.
That's when I noticed them-footsteps behind me. Too close. Too steady.
Rogues, or drunk wolves from another pack.
Didn't matter.
I lifted my phone, pretending to take a selfie, and caught their reflections in the screen-three of them, closing in.
My pulse slowed instead of quickening. Funny. Fear had long ago stopped visiting me.
I pressed the emergency rune on my phone. Damon's name flashed across the screen-he'd insisted on setting it up last year after a fight broke out during a council banquet.
"If you're ever in danger," he'd said, holding my wrist to program the mark. "Call me. Don't be reckless again. Promise me."I had promised.
And tonight, for the first time, I actually kept it.
The call connected.
"Aysel?" Damon's voice was low, tired-familiar enough to ache.
He sounded distracted. I could hear soft beeping in the background. A healer's ward.
"Someone's following me," I said.
There was a pause. Too long. Then:
"Aysel, I really can't do this tonight. Please, don't make a scene."
He thought I was lying. Again.
A woman's voice drifted faintly through the receiver-my mother...oh now is Celestine's mother, Luna Evelyn.
"Damon, give me that."
Then her voice, sharp and cold: "Aysel Vale! Your sister just barely survived an attack, and you're still out prowling like some wild stray? Stop making excuses for attention! No one's leaving this ward, do you hear me?"Click. Disconnected.
For a heartbeat, I just stood there, listening to the silence.
Once, that would've hurt. But now?
Now it was only... hollow.
The river wind bit at my skin. It was spring, yet the air felt sharp as knives.
The men behind me laughed-low, mocking. One of them whistled.
"Easy prey."
They thought I was prey.
And for once, I didn't need to pretend otherwise.
Inside me, my wolf-Mia-stirred, stretching beneath my ribs.
Finally, she whispered. Let's stop playing human.
A warmth began to bloom in my chest, spreading like wildfire through my veins. My vision sharpened. The world slowed. I could hear their heartbeats, smell the sour tang of fear beneath their arrogance.I turned slowly, letting them see my face. My lips curved in a soft, practiced smile.
"I've been pretending to be good for so long," I said quietly, rolling up my sleeves. "You have no idea how much I've missed this."
Then I let go.
Mia's power flooded through me-silver and violent. The air itself seemed to bow. Alpha dominance cracked like thunder, smashing into them before I even moved. Their knees buckled, eyes wide with instinctive terror.
"W-What are you-" one managed to gasp. "You are not an Omega..."
I was already in front of him. My fist connected with his jaw-bone snapped like dry wood. Another swung a blade; I ducked, twisted, and slammed him into the pavement hard enough to crack it.
Mia laughed inside me, wild and hungry. Yes. That's it. Breathe.
Minutes blurred into motion-grunts, snarls, the metallic tang of blood and fear.
When it ended, they were scattered around me, limbs broken, groaning weakly.I stood over them, breathing hard, the moonlight staining my skin silver. My knuckles dripped red.
For a long while, I said nothing. Then I lay back on the cold ground, staring up at the sky, and pressed my trembling hand to my chest.
"Only yourself," I murmured. "Only ever yourself."
Fifteen minutes later, I called the patrol to collect the rogues, gave my report in a calm voice, and ended the call.
A faint rustle.
One of them, half-conscious, tried to crawl toward me, knife glinting weakly in the dark.
Before I could move, a boot struck the rogue's ribs with bone-cracking force, sending him sprawling into the dirt.
A shadow stepped between us-tall, broad-shouldered, moving with the slow, lethal grace of something that ruled the dark. The air itself seemed to tense around him, as if the night recognized its master.
Moonlight slid across his frame like liquid silver over forged steel. His coat flared with the wind, revealing the carved lines of a body built for dominance, not mercy. The scent that followed was a heady mix of smoke, cold iron, and the faintest trace of blood and pine-danger disguised as allure.
He turned his head slightly, and the world felt smaller. Eyes like stormfire found mine, and my pulse betrayed me-steady one moment, wrecked the next.
This wasn't just a man.
This was a predator who could end me... or ruin me in other ways entirely.
My wolf stirred uneasily. I couldn't sense his rank.
Which meant only two things.
Either he had no wolf.
Or his power was so far above mine that my instincts dared not measure it.
I swallowed hard, gaze lifting to meet his.
Amber eyes met mine-ancient, unreadable, gleaming with something between curiosity and danger.
He tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth curving in a slow, knowing smirk."Interesting," he drawled, his voice low and rough as gravel yet smooth enough to tempt sin. "Didn't expect to find a little wolf this fierce out here."
He took one unhurried step closer, his presence wrapping around me like heat and shadow.
"Tell me, darling," he murmured, his tone a velvet threat. "Who taught you to fight like that?"
Little Ze
The Pack's Daughters – A Dark Werewolf Romance Novel
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