Chapter 1: The Abomination’s Fate
The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the dense forest.
A chilling wind blew through the trees, whispering secrets Celia was never meant to hear.
She pressed her back against the wooden walls of the Alpha's war chamber, her breath shallow as she listened.
"Tomorrow at dawn," Alpha Edgar's voice was firm, laced with finality.
"We hand her over to Blackwood."
Celia's heart pounded in her chest.
Hand her over? To Damon Blackwood? The name alone sent ice through her veins.
He was a legend of nightmares—the beast of the Northern Territory, the Alpha King known for his ruthlessness.
But why did they want her?
"She's an abomination," Luna Marianne spat, her voice dripping with disgust.
"She was never supposed to exist. We should have killed her at birth."
Celia's fingers clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms.
Every fiber of her being screamed to run, but her feet were frozen in place.
"She's lived long enough," Edgar continued.
"The Blackwood Pack demands blood for the treaty to stand. If we give her up, the war ends before it begins."
Celia felt like the ground beneath her had crumbled.
A sacrifice.
A pawn to be exchanged for peace.
Marianne scoffed.
"She doesn't even have a wolf. Do you know how much disgrace she's brought upon our pack? If she had shifted, we could have used her for something, but now… she's nothing."
Celia flinched as if she had been struck.
She had waited for years for her first shift, but it had never come.
No glowing eyes.
No howling at the moon.
Just emptiness.
Silence stretched in the room before the Alpha's voice turned cold.
"Take her now. Bind her in silver. Make sure she doesn't try anything foolish."
Celia staggered back, her breath catching in her throat.
She needed to run.
To hide.
But before she could move, heavy footsteps approached.
The door swung open.
Beta Marcus's eyes landed on her immediately.
"She heard everything."
Celia ran away.
She darted down the hallway, her heartbeat a deafening roar in her ears.
She ignored the startled gasps of pack members as she ran past, her mind screaming at her to escape.
But the warriors were faster.
Rough hands grabbed her, yanking her back.
"Let me go!" she screamed , kicking and twisting.
A sharp slap landed across her cheek, making her head snap to the side.
"You're lucky the Alpha wants you alive," Marcus sneered before nodding to the guards.
"Chain her."
Cold metal clamped around her wrists, burning her skin like fire.
Silver.
She gritted her teeth against the pain as they dragged her through the packhouse.
People whispered.
Some watched with pity.
Others looked relieved.
As if she were truly a burden finally being cast away.
The warriors shoved her into a steel cage in the back of a wagon.
The bars reeked of wolfsbane, ensuring she had no chance of escape.
Terror clawed at her insides.
What would Damon Blackwood do to her?
Would he kill her the moment he saw her?
She curled into herself as the wagon lurched forward, the forest swallowing them in darkness.
************************************************
Hours passed.
The scent of damp earth filled her nostrils, mingling with the sickly sweet stench of wolfsbane.
Celia's wrists throbbed from the silver, and exhaustion tugged at her, but fear kept her alert.
The wagon jolted to a stop.
A howl echoed through the trees.
Deep, guttural, filled with raw power.
They had arrived.
The warriors yanked her cage door open.
"Get up."
Celia hesitated, and a boot struck her ribs.
She bit back a cry as they dragged her out onto the hard ground.
A group of men stood before them, their presence suffocating.
They weren't just wolves—they were Blackwood warriors, the most feared fighters in the territories.
And at the center of them stood him.
Damon Blackwood.
His towering figure was framed by the moonlight, his presence like a storm contained within a man.
Midnight-black hair, sharp jawline, and golden eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.
The Alpha King.
Celia had heard the stories—how he ripped out throats with his bare hands, how entire packs surrendered at the mere sound of his name.
And now, he was here.
For her.
Alpha Edgar stepped forward, clearing his throat.
"As promised, we bring the offering. She is yours now."
Damon didn't reply.
His piercing gaze was locked onto Celia.
He took a slow, measured step forward.
Something flickered in his eyes.
Recognition.
Celia shivered under his stare.
The warriors forced her onto her knees before him.
His lips parted.
"Celia."
Shock shot through her like lightning.
How did he know her name?
Before she could speak, Damon turned to Edgar, his voice a low growl.
"What have you done?"
Silence stretched between them.
Damon's gaze darkened as he stepped closer.
The air around him seemed to vibrate with power.
"Explain."
His voice was quiet, deadly.
Edgar shifted uncomfortably.
"She… she is a bastard child. A mistake. We only kept her alive out of mercy."
A muscle ticked in Damon's jaw.
His golden eyes flicked back to Celia, scanning her face as if searching for something.
Then, to everyone's shock—he dropped to one knee.
The powerful Alpha King knelt before her.
His fingers reached out, brushing a strand of her tangled hair away.
His touch sent a strange heat coursing through her veins.
"I never thought I'd find you," he murmured.
Celia's breath hitched.
"Find me?"
Damon's jaw clenched as his eyes burned into hers.
"You're my mate."
A stunned silence fell over the gathering.
Celia's heart slammed against her ribs.
No.
That wasn't possible.
He was wrong.
He had to be.
But the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world that mattered—made her doubt everything she thought she knew.
The warriors stirred, sensing the shift in power.
Before Celia could react, Damon's grip tightened.
His next words sent a chill through her soul.
"No one touches what's mine."