Rejected at the Mating Rite, Claimed by the Alpha Heir

I went back to Garrick Thornridge's homeland for our Mating Ceremony.

The rite hadn't even begun when his so-called girl buddy Vesper Briar came sauntering over with a plate of ceremonial cake, grinning from ear to ear, and smashed it straight into my face.

A goblet of bloodberry wine followed, poured over the top of my head. My ceremonial gown turned slick and cold and disgusting against my skin.

I shoved her off me, barely keeping my voice under control. "There's a time and a place for jokes!"

Vesper staggered back with exaggerated flair, landing on the ground in a heap.

"Lyra Nightfang, the dominance trials are tradition here! I was just wishing you a spirited mating. Why'd you shove me so hard?"

Garrick's face went dark on the spot.

He rushed over to help Vesper up, then shot a look at his boys.

Three or four of them closed in on me immediately, grabbing at the hem of my gown and ripping downward. A whole piece of the lining tore away. The scent of wet pine and old iron rolled off them, thick with pack aggression.

All around me: cheering, laughter, crystal screens lifted to record.

I clutched what was left of my skirt and screamed at him. "Garrick, if you don't make them stop, this mating is off!"

"Off?"

He let out a cold laugh. "You're from outside the Hollow. You don't even have a way out. This is my territory. Where exactly do you think you're going?"

I didn't say another word. I reached into my clutch and pulled out my communicator.

"Uncle Merek Stonehand, file a flight path. One hour, tops. I want my pack jet on that clearing."

——

Garrick froze for two seconds, then burst out laughing.

"How much did you pay some rogue to pick up that call?"

He looked at me sideways. "Gonna be back in your little den eating scraps by next moon, huh?"

His crew laughed even harder, doubled over, faces red.

Vesper draped herself against Garrick's shoulder and tilted her head at me. Her scent drifted with it, jasmine and copper layered over something stale.

"See, this is what I always say. I just get along better with guys. Girls like Lyra here, they overthink everything. Making up lies like that just to save face."

Garrick patted the back of her hand and jutted his chin at me. "Hear that? That's what a real packmate sounds like. Vesper would never pull this kind of stunt on me. Some people just can't stop faking it."

"Vesper put a lot of work into today's ceremony. Whatever she wants to do next, we follow her lead."

"Keep the trials going!"

Before I could steady myself, a full plate of jam was upended onto my hair. Thick red paste oozed down my neck.

Two she-wolves pinned my arms from either side while someone else scrawled across my face with a marker.

Someone flipped up my skirt, baring my safety shorts. The crowd roared.

I tried to wrench free, but Garrick grabbed the back of my neck, leaned in close, and hissed through clenched teeth:

"Every wolf in my pack is watching. You embarrass me today, I will never live it down in this Hollow. And you won't have it easy either."

His grip on my neck pressed down like a command to submit. Something inside me, deep and low, bristled against it. My wolf stirred for the first time all day, not with fear but with a slow, dangerous clarity.

I was shaking all over. Not from fear. From the cold realization of what he was.

Vesper waved a hand from the side, voice carrying. "Aw, come on, Garrick, don't be so hard on Lyra. She's probably just not great at fitting in. I'm sure she didn't mean to cause a scene."

"Us wolves should be big about it, you know? Cut the girl some slack."

The guests started whispering to each other.

"Moon Goddess, the intended mate is so dramatic. Can't even handle a little ceremonial fun."

"Right? Acting all high and mighty."

"Did you see when they ripped her dress? She's actually got a body on her."

"Tsk tsk. That temper. Who'd put up with that?"

Garrick heard all of it, and the corner of his mouth actually curled up, like he was basking in it.

I looked at that expression on his face and felt like I was staring at a stranger.

Five years ago, I started courting Garrick.

He was a broke wolf from the mountain hollows who had to save up for half a moon cycle just to take me out for a decent meal.

To keep the pressure off him, I hid the fact that I was the Nightfang heiress. Rented a tiny den, walked everywhere, sat with him at street-vendor stalls. Kept my true scent dampened so low no wolf would ever guess what bloodline ran through me.