Raven
Five winters had passed since the Mistvalley pack became vassals of the Moonburn pack. Vassals was the word the elders used, but servants would have been a more honest description. More than half of everything we produced—grain from the narrow fields, smoked meat from the hunts, woven cloth, and even stacks of chopped firewood—was loaded onto wagons and sent directly to them.
The last time our offerings had fallen short, my brother Brandon had lost a finger.
Where there had once been relief that the slaughter of the war had ended, something else had taken its place—anger, frustration, and a deep tiredness that settled into the bones of the village like a long winter that refused to end.
Some of the women in the village had fought back when the Moonburn warriors took them, but of course it had been useless. Strength decided everything among our kind.
Lilian had been more proactive.
She had found herself one of the warriors and willingly slept with him, becoming his mistress. The man was older and already mated, but she didn't care in the slightest.
For the first few years I had been surprised to be left alone, secretly hoping it would continue that way.
Then Father called me to him and informed me that I was to be married. Someone had asked for my hand. The sinking feeling in my stomach had deepened when I learned the name.
Yemac.
The warrior who oversaw our pack on behalf of the Moonburns. One of the sons of the Moonburn Alpha—though I later learned that meant very little considering how many mistresses the Alpha was rumored to have kept.
Still, his status mattered less than the fact that he had decided he wanted me. I was told he would be visiting the village to see me before the marriage was finalized.
Clothes were given to me for the occasion—a long gown dyed a pale shade of purple and simple pieces of silver jewelry. They were far finer than anything I normally wore, yet I felt no excitement as the maid dressed me.
Lilian's gaze burned into the side of my face while I sat before the small polished mirror in our home.
The maid stood behind me carefully braiding my dark hair, weaving the strands into delicate shapes that resembled flowers. Such styles had once been common during festivals before the war.
Lilian said nothing at first.
She simply stood behind me, arms folded, her eyes fixed on my reflection.
Eventually whatever had been building inside her broke free.
"Yemac is a strong warrior of the Moonburn pack," she said sharply. "You're a weakling. You do not deserve him."
I was tempted to roll my eyes.
My sister had tried to seduce him several times before and had failed every time.
"You can have him if you want," I muttered under my breath.
Yemac disgusted me. He already had several mistresses scattered across the surrounding villages. I was convinced the only reason he wanted to marry me was that I had refused to sleep with him.
Marriage was simply the only way he could finally scratch the itch in his crotch.
"I don't want him," I continued, meaning every word.
I turned to face Lilian, my vision slightly blurred as I looked at her.
She seemed genuinely confused, as though she couldn't understand why anyone would refuse such a "grand" warrior.
"He cut Brandon's finger," I reminded her.
My brother could be insufferable, but he hadn't deserved that.
Lilian's brown eyes remained completely unmoved.
"…It's the way of the world," she said with a small shrug. "The strong conquer. The rest of us follow."
She stepped closer, stopping beside me where I sat before the mirror.
"…The best thing you can do is get pregnant quickly and give birth to a few cubs," she added.
Her words were crude, yet there was a strange softness in her gaze as she said them.
She began turning toward the door.
But I couldn't let her leave so easily.
"…Are we really going to continue like this—"
She cut me off immediately, her voice dropping into a quiet warning.
"Their warriors are as big as Father—bigger in some cases," she said. "If we fight, we die. If we submit, we live."
She shrugged again.
"The choice is obvious."
I realized then that it was the longest conversation we had ever had. I said nothing else after that. Lilian saw no reason to remain and soon left the room.
By the time I stood outside the Alpha's house, the sun was already sinking low in the sky, staining the horizon with deep orange light.
The air carried the smells of woodsmoke and damp earth. I waited silently until the door opened.
Yemac stepped out.
He was tall like most warriors, his body lean but strong from years of battle and patrols. His black hair hung messily around his face, and his brown eyes—common among werewolves—held a cruel glint that made my stomach tighten.
He smiled when he saw me.
I looked away and instead glanced toward Father, hoping—perhaps foolishly—that he might say something. He didn't even look at me.
"Raven," Yemac said as he approached. "You look ravishing."
I lowered my head in a small bow, careful not to meet his eyes.
I had already realized that he preferred complete submission.
"Warrior Yemac," I greeted quietly.
I turned slightly, intending to greet Father as well.
But Yemac suddenly grabbed my hands and yanked me toward the forest path that led away from the village.
My eyes darted to Father, silently begging him to intervene.
He simply looked away and walked back into his home.
"We will be married before winter ends," Yemac said as he dragged me deeper into the trees.
The forest was dim and cool beneath the tall pines, the sound of the nearby river growing louder as we approached it.
He stopped suddenly and turned toward me.
His expression was fervent.
"I have been patient, haven't I?" he said, stepping closer.
"For the daughter of a mistress, I've been very accommodating."
His hands suddenly grabbed my chest through the fabric of my dress.
Satisfaction gleamed in his eyes as his fingers squeezed.
I scrambled backward, but he didn't allow me to escape.
My lips trembled as he leaned close, his breath foul against my face as he tried to press his mouth against mine.
I jerked away.
"…I refuse," I said.
The words left my mouth shakily, but they were the one protection women still had. Until marriage or mating, we had the right to refuse.
Yemac snarled.
His gaze slid slowly down my body.
I stepped backward again and lost my footing, falling onto the ground.
He loomed over me.
"I have been more than accommodating," he growled.
He crouched down and ripped my purple dress apart with a brutal pull, the fabric tearing easily in his hands.
He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back as I screamed.
My chest was suddenly exposed to the cold air.
He bent down and latched onto one of my nipples like a man dying of thirst.
"I… I refuse," I gasped.
Terror flooded through me, yet something else stirred as well—a strange heat pooling low in my belly as his tongue moved against my skin.
I tried to shove his head away, but he refused to stop.
After a moment he finally pulled back, a wide grin spreading across his face.
He inhaled deeply through his nose.
"You are an omega," he said with satisfaction. "A half one, at least."
"Your nature is to bring pleasure to Alphas. I am not one… but it will do."
Tears filled my eyes as I clutched the torn remains of my dress, trying desperately to cover myself.
He only laughed.
"I don't know which man your father's mistress slept with to give you those bright blue eyes," he said cruelly. "But I will enjoy watching you cry when I bury myself deep inside you."
He spat onto the ground and turned away, heading back toward the village where his horse waited.
I remained there in the dirt.
My body trembled as I looked down at my chest and saw the dark bruise already forming where his mouth had been.
More tears gathered in my eyes as the reality of my future settled over me.
But before the first tear could fall, I heard footsteps behind me. Clothes suddenly landed in my lap. I looked up. Lilian stood there with her usual blank expression.
"You're fine," she said calmly. "I expected it to be much worse." Then she turned and walked away.
My hands clutched the clothes tightly as they trembled. I collapsed fully onto the ground. Like every day before, I tried to summon my wolf.
I closed my eyes and sank my consciousness inward, searching for that familiar presence every werewolf carried within them.
There was nothing there.
Only silence.
Whoever my father's mistress had slept with to create me had given me nothing.
She had been pretty and weak. Too weak to even survive childbirth.
And nothing more.