“I don’t care what history says, Mama. I plan on reclaiming what was snatched from our family, but I’m doing it my way. I do not need a mate. I’ve made it this far on my own.”
“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Dominic,” my mother says wistfully. “This pack is very strict when it comes to these things. You might be seen as unfit to be alpha, even if you win the trials.”
“I’ve prepared my whole life for this, Mama. Nothing can stand in the way of me becoming alpha.”
Not even Cecelia Morales,the tiny voice in my head whispers, causing a frown to furrow my brows as I pause on my mouthful of steak. Was that my inner wolf reminding me that the omega with a tainted family history shouldn’t be a distraction?
Or was my inner wolf trying to taunt me?
Either way, I know that I can’t leave this business with Cecelia unfinished if I plan on making it through the trials victorious. I’ve worked too hard to get to this point, and I won’t let an omega stand in my way.
Chapter 3 - Cecelia
I rub my sweaty palms on my apron, trying desperately to stop my fingers from trembling. The few hours between lunch and dinner did nothing to calm my nerves, and instead, my trepidation has grown until it threatens to swallow me whole.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Agatha’s stern voice snaps me into composure, my spine cracking ramrod straight as if she’d slapped me across the face.
Her disgruntled sneer when I look up is as good as if she did.
“I-I—” My quivering lips are my undoing, and Agatha rolls out a string of curses as she marches toward me, her eyes like dark pits of hellish fire. I flinch and close my eyes, as if bracing myself for physical torture, and it comes in the form of her shoving a hot pot of soup in my face. I take the handles carefully, not wanting to defy the manager of the pack center in any way.
“Go do your job,mutt!” she rumbles, specks of her saliva stinging my face. “There are werewolves waiting to eat. You’re wasting time.”
I nod tentatively, her coldness seeping through my spine like a cold shiver as I carry the steaming pot of soup through the doorway leading to the open dining area. An echo of laughter from years ago enters my eardrums, as if reminding me that I shouldn’t be fazed by Agatha’s abuse.
It’s the reason I became numb in the first place—because the one man who I thought could defend me remained silent and stood by while I was being abused.
I shouldn’t have had faith in him, anyway. What was I thinking when he rejected me that same morning?
Because dinner is meant to be a buffet, I stick to the wall to take the pot toward the buffet table, my ears focused on the chatter that spreads through the hall.
The Lunaris Pack is abuzz with excitement about the upcoming alpha trials, as they have been for a few weeks since Alpha Sirius announced that he’ll be retiring once a new leader emerges victorious. Many have high hopes for Alpha Sirius’s son, Simon, while others whisper that the only Lunaris wolf who’d volunteered to join the black ops squad has a good chance of becoming the alpha if he wins.
They’re talking about Dominic, and it’s impossible not to hear his name being whispered. As I tentatively steal toward the buffet table, it becomes progressively difficult to ignore the name I’ve been hell-bent on burying ever since that fateful night.
Three Years Ago
“I can’t believe you dragged me into this,” I whisper in Donna’s ear, clinging to her arm like a lifeline as she orders another round of drinks.
“I told you, it’ll be fun,” Donna chirps as she throws a wink at the bartender.
“Fun?” I wince as I scan the local bar littered with the Lunaris Pack wolves who frequent this place when they need to let loose. It’s a place I avoided for most of my adult life, but Donna insisted that we had to celebrate my birthday.
As if there’s any reason to celebrate this night, I think glumly. Since my father died three years ago and left meorphaned, I’d been avoiding this day so I wouldn’t be reminded of my dismal status in the pack. But Donna had other plans.
“Is this your idea of fun, Dons?” I ask, turning back to her while she extracts a little brown bag from her purse.
“Thisis my idea of fun.” She winks at me this time, gesturing to the bag before pulling on the strings to open it. I catch the potent, bitter smell of wolfsbane, and I gasp.
“You’re not serious,” I mutter in disbelief as Donna proceeds to sprinkle some of the crushed herbs on the surface of our drinks. It’s the only herb lethal to a werewolf, but in the correct dose, it amplifies the effects of alcohol and allows the liquor to have a longer-lasting effect against the fast metabolism of a werewolf that usually burns it out before one becomes drunk.
“You think anyone here isn’t high on wolfsbane?” Donna sneers as she passes me a drink. “This is how we let loose around here, and that’s exactly what you’re doing tonight.”
My eyes flit from Donna to the glass in my hand—some pungent amber liquid I don’t have a name for because I’ve never had a drink before. I give it a circumspect sniff, my nose scrunching offensively.
“I—I don’t know, Donna…” I begin reluctantly, but before I can let my wariness take over, Donna grabs my wrist and pushes the glass toward my face.
Not wanting to disappoint my best friend since she went out of her way to turn an ordinary day into a special one, I chug down the drink in one gulp, keeping my eyes pinned on her until the burn of the liquor flowing down my throat is too ghastly to bear. I flinch and squeal as it slips down, pressing my eyelids shut as Donna chuckles bemusedly. I notice that she casually sips her drink as she watches my reaction, and somehow, I’mspurred into ordering a refill, riding on this sudden bout of bravery that throws my caution to the wind.
