Xira POV
"Father, please," I begged.
I could hear the crack in my voice and I dropped to my knees before him. The chill of the stone floor penetrated my skin, but I barely felt it. My hands trembled as I clasped them together, my bottom lip quivering despite my effort to hold myself together. "I don't want to go through with the ceremony."
I lifted my face and searched the eyes of the man standing before me.
"I saw them," I continued hurriedly, desperation spilling over. "I caught them together. Axel and May. They laughed at me, Father. They said they are mates and I'm the intruder."
For a long, suffocating moment, he said nothing.
The chamber was silent except for my uneven breathing and the slow, steady crackle of the hearth. My father stood before me like a rock, silent and unmoving, his expression unreadable.
I dared to hope, just for a heartbeat that he might soften. That he might choose to free me.
At last, he moved.
He reached down and pulled me to my feet with a firm grip, his touch neither gentle nor cruel, just forceful.
"Axel is a man," Father said calmly, his tone patient, almost indulgent. "He is only doing what men do and you can't blame him, you are taking away his fated mate after all."
I stared at him, disbelief washing over me.
"All men have needs and want a little extra on the side," he continued, as though explaining something simple to a child. "That is the way of things. What you should concern your pretty little head with is giving Stormfang an heir. Have a baby as soon as you can. That is your duty."
I wrenched myself out of his grasp, my chest heaving. My tears dried instantly, replaced by a burning, furious resolve. I glared at him, my eyes fixed right on his so that he could see my anger. I watched his jaw tighten.
"I refuse," I said, my voice shaking but loud. "I will not allow myself to be humiliated like this. You are my father. You should want the best for me, and this is outra..."
For a fraction of a second, something flickered across his face.
Then it hardened.
Before I even realized what was going on, I felt a brutal force slam into my abdomen. Pain exploded through my body, stealing the air from my lungs. I crumpled to the floor with a thud, curling inward as agony tore through me.
My father loomed over me as I writhed painfully on the cold ground.
"It seems," he said softly, almost regretfully, "that I have spoiled you."
My vision blurred, my entire body vibrated from the pain. What was almost more painful was the shock of being hit by the person I had thought would support me.
His voice rose, louder, devastating. "It seems you have forgotten what you are."
He crouched down until his face was level with mine.
I froze at the disgust in his eyes.
Fear flooded me, raw and unfamiliar. I had never been struck before. Not by a servant, not by a warrior, not even in discipline. Least of all by him.
"You see," he said quietly, his voice low and venomously controlled, "you are a burden to me."
My breath hitched.
"At least, a son would have been better," he went on. "But your whore of a mother could only give me a cursed daughter, a scentless abomination."
I flinched, the words cut deeper than the blow.
"So you will do the only useful thing you are capable of," he finished coldly. "You will mate with Axel. You will bear pups. You have the tools for that at least."
He rose smoothly to his feet and turned away, leaving me curled on the floor, my body limp like it was exhausted.
I was exhausted, all the fight had gone out of me.
When he opened the chamber doors, the healers standing outside immediately straightened, their faces carefully blank.
"Get her dressed and ready within the hour," He ordered without looking back.
He took a step away, then paused mid-stride.
"And double her medicine," he added. "I do not want any embarrassments today."
With that, he walked away.
Behind him, I lay in silence.
***
The entirety of the time the maids spent preparing me for my mating ceremony was a blur.
The only thing in my head were my father's words.
"A scentless abomination."
How is it my fault that I had been born without a scent?
In the werewolf world, scent is not just instinct; it is identity.
It is how a wolf announces their presence before their appearance, how they mark their territory, recognize people, and sense danger in the wind. Scent is memory and family, a living thread that binds werewolf to pack and mate to mate. Most importantly, scent is how fated werewolf mates find each other.
The fact that my father who had chosen to save me despite werewolf law which stated that such children born without a scent were cursed and to be discarded at birth, was now the same one pressing his disgust against my chest like a brand.
But what did I expect from a man I barely ever even saw.
I had seen my father exactly seven times in all my eighteen years of life.
I was a girl who was banished to a long line of governesses and finishing schools. I had assumed he kept me at arms length because I reminded him too much of my mother. But now I am sure it's because I embarrass him.
As I walked down the aisle and looked around, my eyes landed on glaring eyes.
May's.
Taunting, laughing at me, that despite the fact that she had flung her affair in my face, I was still forced to marry Axel.
I was indeed the intruder in their love.
Up ahead standing by the priest was the imposing figure of Axel, my mate to be.
The future Alpha of the Stormfang Pack.
He stared straight ahead, his eyes over my head.
he looked like a structure carved from shadow and stone. His presence alone seemed to suck the light from the room, casting the entire clearing into a deeper gloom. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that looked like it had been carved by angels, all hard planes with a soft rosebud lips and eyelashes, so heavy that gave his eyes a slanted look.
He was also one of the best young warriors in the pack, It's no wonder my father chose him as his heir.
As I drew closer, his nose flared for a second then he lowered his eyes to me and I saw mockery flash in his eyes.
No doubt having the same thoughts as his lover.
When my father placed my hand in his, a jolt, not of electricity but of pure, unadulterated anger, shot up my arm. His grip was firm, almost crushing, a silent reminder of the power he now held over me. I could feel the rough calluses on his palm, a stark contrast to the delicateness of my soft skin.
The priest then took a step forward, his loud voice resonating through the hall. "We gather in this ritual of union between Axel Xavier, and Xira Valeen…"
CRASH!!!!
The heavy doors of the hall were flung open and the next thing I knew, a dishevelled and bloody warrior ran in panting heavily.
"Alpha!" He gasped, "The Pack barrier has been breached and the guards have all been killed."