Ariana's eyes fluttered open, the rough, damp earth beneath her body a cruel reminder that she wasn't in the safety of her bed. The forest surrounded her, cold and unyielding. She winced as pain coursed through her body, a dull ache from lying on the unforgiving ground all night. As the soft morning light filtered through the leaves, the events of last night crashed over her like a relentless storm.
Her mate cold rejection, Elara's triumphant sneer, and the humiliation in front of the pack played in her mind on an endless loop. She hugged herself tightly, shivering from more than just the chill in the air. The bitter sting of rejection still echoed through her, each passing second a reminder of her place in the pack—no longer worthy.
"Why am I not enough?" she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her despair. Her breath caught in her throat, the question she had been asking herself for days now lingering in the silence of the forest. Tears threatened to spill, but she fought them back, refusing to show any weakness, even in solitude. Slowly, she forced herself to her feet despite the protest of her bruised body. She brushed dirt from her dress, though its tattered state reflected her shattered spirit.
Her steps were slow and deliberate as she made her way back to the palace, avoiding the gaze of anyone who might see her. Each step felt heavier than the last, her shame dragging her down like a lead weight. The pack members she passed seemed to avoid eye contact, some even quickening their pace when they saw her coming. Ariana could feel the weight of their judgment, the whispers she couldn't hear but knew were there. She was nothing now. A discarded piece of the puzzle that no longer fit.
The palace loomed ahead, bathed in the warm hues of the rising sun. Ariana slipped through a side entrance, her heart pounding with the hope of making it to her room unnoticed. Her hand trembled on the doorknob as she stepped inside, but her relief was short-lived.
"Get yourself together, girl."
The sharp voice froze her in her tracks. Turning, she saw Marta, the head cook, eyeing her disheveled state with a critical gaze. Her sharp eyes narrowed, taking in the dirt smeared across Ariana's face, the ragged edges of her dress, and the vacant look in her eyes.
"The Alpha King returns tonight, and you'll be serving him directly."
Ariana blinked, her mind sluggish. "Me? Why?"
"Because he requested someone new, and you're one of the few left who hasn't served him," Marta said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Consider it a compliment. Just don't mess it up."
Marta turned away, leaving Ariana standing there, her heart sinking. A compliment? It felt like anything but. Her stomach churned at the thought of serving the Alpha King—she had heard whispers of his temper, his coldness, and his unpredictability. She had no idea how she could face him, let alone keep herself composed.
With a deep breath, she dragged herself to her small room to prepare, each step feeling more like a burden than the last. Her room, though modest, offered her a small respite from the chaos outside. She sank onto the edge of the bed, running a trembling hand through her hair. It was then that she noticed the dullness of her reflection in the small, cracked mirror across the room. Her skin was pale, her eyes hollow, as if she had aged years in a single night.
After what seemed like hours she stood in front of her mirror, simply dressed in black and white, the uniform for servers. The mirror reflected the pale, hollow-eyed girl who had once been hopeful, once been filled with a fire that now seemed extinguished. She straightened her posture, brushing the dirt from her hair and smoothing her uniform. Her hands trembled as the voices of two maids filtered through the thin walls.
"Did you hear? Alpha King Kieran couldn't find his mate in the neighboring pack. He's furious about it."
"Imagine the poor girl who has to serve him tonight. He's not exactly known for patience."
Ariana's heart raced. Alpha King Kieran. The name carried a weight that made her chest tighten. His reputation as a powerful, fearsome ruler was known far and wide. Why now, when her world was already falling apart, did fate decide to throw this at her?
She couldn't help but feel a wave of dread wash over her. The Alpha King was not someone she ever imagined having any direct dealings with. The rumors that circled him were enough to send shivers down anyone's spine. His authority was absolute, and his wrath, legendary. The idea of standing before him made her stomach twist in knots, but she had no choice. She had to do this.
---
The kitchen buzzed with activity as the evening approached, tension thick in the air. Ariana focused on her task, her hands steadying as she arranged the trays of food. She tried to ignore the whispers that followed her, the pitying glances that brushed her like unwanted touches. She knew they saw her, knew they judged her, but she couldn't focus on them. She had to survive the night.
"She'll crack," someone muttered. "Poor thing looks like she's about to faint."
Ariana straightened her back, ignoring the voices. She couldn't afford to falter now. This was her chance to show that she could still do something right, that she still had worth—even if the pack, even if Rowan, couldn't see it.
As the evening wore on, the buzz of activity in the kitchen grew louder. The servants moved with practiced precision, preparing for the Alpha King's arrival. Ariana's hands shook as she arranged the final platter, her thoughts distant, unfocused. She barely noticed when the time came to carry the trays to the grand dining hall.
The weight of the tray in her hands felt insignificant compared to the crushing pressure in her chest. Her heart hammered in her ears as she entered the hall. The grand dining room stretched out before her, its gilded chandeliers casting golden light across the room. The table was filled with high-ranking pack members dressed in their finest attire. Among them, Rowan and Elara sat side by side.
Ariana clenched her jaw, willing herself to stay composed. She wouldn't let them see her crumble. She couldn't afford to. But as she stepped closer, the air shifted. A faint but irresistible pull tugged at her senses, and then it hit her—a scent so intoxicating it made her knees weaken. Fresh pine and rain, sharp and electric. Her steps faltered.
Her eyes darted to Rowan, searching for a flicker of recognition, but he didn't even glance her way. He was too engrossed in Elara, his laughter ringing hollow in her ears. Confusion twisted her thoughts. The mate bond was gone, she had felt its severance—but why did her heart race so violently?
Almost against her will, her gaze shifted to the head of the table.
There he was. Alpha King Kieran.
He sat like a king among mortals, his presence commanding the room without effort. His dark hair framed a face that was both striking and terrifying, his sharp jawline and piercing eyes cutting through the air with quiet authority. His aura was a presence unto itself, both intimidating and magnetic. Ariana felt the weight of it press against her, suffocating her in its intensity.
He paused mid-conversation, his nostrils flaring as his gaze locked onto her. The intensity in his eyes made her breath hitch, her heart pounding in her chest like a drum.
Kieran stood, the scrape of his chair against the floor deafening in the sudden silence. His gaze never wavered from hers, his expression unreadable.
"Mate," he said, his voice low and resonant, the single word reverberating through the hall like a thunderclap.
The room froze. All eyes turned to Ariana, the air thick with shock and tension.
She stared back at him, her heart caught between fear and something she couldn't name. The world around her seemed to blur, leaving only the Alpha King and the claim that had just shattered her reality.