Elena's POV
The maids moved around me like silent ghosts, their hands efficient, their eyes carefully lowered. No one spoke unless spoken to.
No one dared meet my reflection in the mirror.
The wedding gown lay across my bed like a surrender flag.
White silk. Silver embroidery. Moon-thread woven into the bodice to shimmer beneath nightfall. It was beautiful — painfully so.
A gown fit for a Luna. A gown fit for a lie.
I stood in the center of the room in nothing but a thin shift, my arms wrapped around myself as if I could still hold something together inside me.
"You should look happier," my stepmother's voice cut through the quiet.
Selene stood near the balcony doors, bathed in sunlight, gold jewelry glinting against her dark gown. She looked pleased. Triumphant.
My stepsister Sarah lounged across a velvet chair, watching me the way one watches an unfolding play.
"Oh, Mother," Sarah sighed dramatically, "she's nervous. It must be terrifying to marry such a powerful Alpha… especially when you can't even shift."
A soft laugh slipped from her lips.
The maids stiffened. I said nothing. They had been circling me like vultures since dawn.
How lucky you are. What an honor. Such sacrifice for the pack.
Sacrifice.
That word tasted bitter.
One of the maids approached with trembling hands and began brushing out my hair.
Long. Dark. Falling past my waist like a sheet of midnight silk.
It contrasted sharply against my skin — pale enough to seem almost porcelain in certain light, with a faint blush warming my cheeks despite everything. My lashes were long, framing eyes too blue for comfort — the kind of blue people said you could drown in.
I had heard it whispered before.
Too beautiful. As if beauty were a crime. As if it required punishment.
Sarah rose and walked behind me, studying my reflection in the mirror.
I hated how fragile I looked.
Slim shoulders. Small frame. A body more suited to dancing in gardens than standing beside a war-hardened Alpha. I had been told I was built like a goddess carved from marble — delicate, precise, untouchable.
Untouchable.
The irony almost made me laugh.
Sarah reached forward and lifted a strand of my hair.
"It's tragic, really," she murmured sweetly. "You look every bit a Luna."
Her smile sharpened in the mirror.
"Except you're not enough." Selene stepped closer. "Ironfang deserves strength. Control. Not… uncertainty."
Uncertainty. That was kinder than what they usually called me.
Cursed. Defective. Unchosen. I swallowed the tightness in my throat.
"Enough," I whispered.
Sarah blinked, surprised that I had spoken at all.
The maids began fastening the corset, pulling the laces tighter and tighter until breathing required effort. It felt appropriate.
Each tug sealed something shut inside me. Hope. Resistance. Choice.
I had cried last night.
Alone. Quietly so noone can hear me but there were no tears left now.Only exhaustion. Only inevitability. I stared at my reflection as they slipped the gown over my shoulders.
It fit as if it had been made for me alone. The silver thread caught against my dark hair, making my skin seem almost luminous. The bodice hugged my waist, flowing into layers of silk that pooled around my bare feet.
For a moment — just a moment — I looked like the future Luna of two united packs. Powerful.
Untouchable.
But I knew the truth beneath the silk.
I am a bargaining chip. A treaty wrapped in white. Sarah circled me slowly.
"Do you think he'll be gentle?" she asked lightly. "Alpha Kael doesn't look gentle."
My stomach tightened.
Kael.
Even thinking his name felt like stepping into shadow. He had always watched me as if calculating something.
As if measuring where to grip.
I remembered his hand around my wrist when we were children — firm, possessive. The way other boys avoided standing too close to me when he was near.
The way his eyes darkened when I defied him. Was there ever a world where this did not end with me at his side?
Or beneath him? I forced myself to straighten. This is my fate. The words came slowly, like swallowing glass. I have no wolf. No mate will come for me, noone will safe me.
No miracle will break these doors open. The Moon Goddess has been silent. So I will not beg.
Selene adjusted the delicate silver circlet that would rest against my hairline.
"Stand tall," she said coolly. "If you are to be offered, at least look worthy." Offered. Like livestock. Like tribute. I lifted my chin.
If I must walk into the jaws of Ironfang… I will not tremble.
Inside, my heart felt like it was being lowered into a grave. But something else stirred beneath the devastation.
Not hope. Not yet. Something quieterinl Resolve. If Kael thinks I will break easily… He has forgotten who I am. The doors opened.
"Darkmoon is ready," a guard announced. I took one last look at the girl in the mirror.
Black hair like nightfall. Blue eyes deep as winter oceans. Skin pale against the silver of a ceremonial crown. She looked like a goddess prepared for worship.
Not a sacrifice prepared for binding. I pressed my hands together to stop their trembling and slowly I began to accept the inevitable. Whatever waits for me at that altar…I will endure it.
Even if it destroys me.