FATED BEYOND THE PACK (rejection and redemption)

The silver glow of the moon filtered through the large, arched windows of the castle's guest room, casting bright shadows on the smooth stone walls. A soft breeze carried the scent of pine and damp earth through the open balcony, reminding me that that I wasn't just in any place now, I was at the most brooding, handsome and powerful Lycan King's domain.

I am too far from home...

I sighed at the thought.

I sat in one of the railings of the balcony, my fingers tracing the patterns of the concrete as my mind replayed the moment I had been cast aside. My mate, the one fated to stand by my side, had rejected me without hesitation.

I would like to believe that Alaric had only rejected me because I haven't shifted, but I would only be lying to myselft it I did.

I clenched my jaw as the sting of that memory burned anew.

Even before I decided to leave Shadow Walker Pacy, I knew how everyone whispered behind my back, speculating on whether I was truly wolf-born at all.

I had felt the pull of my wolf spirit since childhood, but no shift had ever come. And now, Alaric, the one who should have cherished me, accepted me chose another.

I knew I never wanted to be bound with him, but the pain had become unbearable.

I managed to give the beautiful moonlight a last glance as I stood up, I paced back in forth in the gigantic room, being here almost felt so magical.

I sighed feeling tired from pacing, I threw myself on the massive bed, letting myself bask in the warmth of the thick blankets. It had been a long day, which I only used wandering around the Kingdom, meeting new faces and a little arguments with the guards, mostly about explaining who I was.

Though exhaustion clung to my limbs, a strange sense of anticipation and anxiousness kept me alert.

It might be true that I was no ordinary wolf, my blood carried a lineage long whispered about in the shadows of our kind, thanks to my father.

But then for me, my father's blood that runs in my veins was a heavy and painful reminder that no matter how powerful my father was then, I am still my father's weak little girl who still clings on the belief that one day, I will still shift.

Though it was already clear that it's already impossible.

I toss and turn in the massive bed before settling my eyes on the beautiful cieling, but then I absentmindedly closed my eyes shut when suddenly, Alaric's painful words the night he rejected me rang in my ear, tearing me over again.

But then my eyes fluttered open when few moments later, the door burst open, without warning. Three women and one man dressed in modern robes rushed inside, their faces set in expressions of urgency.

By the way they dressed I could already tell who they are, the Marcus's servants.

The tallest woman, clad in a deep maroon robe stepped forward.

"My Lady, forgive our intrusion."

She said, bowing her head respectfully.

"The King has summoned you to the dining hall."

I sat up abruptly, my sharp eyes narrowing.

"Summoned?"

The woman nodded.

"He wishes to dine with you."

I studied them for a moment. There was no hesitation in their stance, no indication that this was anything less than an order that could not be refused.

Another servant, a young girl with auburn curls, held out a set of folded clothes.

"His Majesty requests that you wear these."

She said stepping foreward before handing me the dress that she was carrying.

My brow arched. I glanced at my current attire, a loose t-shirt and leggings, comfortable but far from regal.

"Is my attire not acceptable?"

I asked coolly, I didn't notice keeping my arched brows.

The man among them, his head shaved except for a strip of dark hair down the middle, spoke in a measured tone.

"The King desires his guests to be properly presented at court functions, My Lady. The dinner with the court was prepared specifically for you."

Prepared specifically for me?

I whispered to myself as I let confusion flood my head.

I exhaled sharply but still took the garments.

I shook them out to reveal a flowing gown of midnight blue, with intricate silver embroidery in the shape of wolves running along the hem.

I gasped, letting my eyes admire the gown.

It was beautiful, far more elegant than anything I had ever worn.

The gown as if sending me a silent message that was sewn into every thread, I was not just a visitor, I was meant to be noticed.

I wonder if the King himself chose this.

I flinched at the thought, a little to late for day dreaming now Foxy...

I reminded myself before turning my gaze back to the servants.

"You may leave. I will dress."

The older woman nodded.

"We will wait outside to escort you to the dining hall."

The door closed behind them, leaving me alone with the heavy weight of expectation.

I let out a breath, shaking off the nerves threatening to creep up my spine.

"Too pretty for someone who is wolfless..."

I muttered as I stepped out of my old clothes and into the gown.

A quiet sigh escaped my throath, I couldn't help but smile as the fabric slid over my skin like liquid moonlight, its weight both foreign and comforting.

When I stepped out of the room, the servants bowed again before leading me down the grand hall. The air smelled of roasted meats, spiced wine, and something else, something that again sent a shiver down my spine.

Power.

My heart thudded painfully against my chest the moment we reached the dining hall, I was greeted by a huge table decorated with all types of foods.

It was a feast...

But the foods wasn't the reason why I only wanted to do was go back in the guest room and choose not to see another living soul. It was because of the number of powerful wolves who greeted me with a knowing gaze.

"Are you sure that the King himself summoned me in here?"

I whispered to the male servant before biting me lips hard, hoping that it was enough to keep me calm.

"Yes."

I sighed in dissappointment as he answered.

But what could the king possibly want with a weakling like me?

"It must be a mistake."

I mumbled as I nervously pulled on my gown.

The servant shook his head.

"Mistakes are not made in the court of Lycans. You are summoned. You will go."

My legs felt like stone as I made my way closer to the dining hall.

My eyes automatically searched for King Marcus and found him at the head of the table, in an intricately carved chair of blackwood, sat the Lycan King himself.

King Marcus.

His presence was suffocating, his sheer aura of dominance pressing against my senses like a physical force.

But I immediately looked away when his golden eyes met mine.

"Brielle Fox of Shadow Walker Pack?"

One of them asked.

I swallowed hard and nodded.

"Come."

The grand dining hall was ablaze with firelight and a massive grand chandelier in the middle, its long wooden table stretching nearly the length of the room.

My breath hitched as my gaze once again darted around.

I knew some of these faces, I've met them earlier this morning during my tour in kingdom grounds.

They were the Alphas and Elders of the kingdom under King Marcus, they are the highest ranking wolves, warriors, strategists, the king's most trusted advisors.

"Your the young wolf from Shadow Walker Pack?"

Another one asked.

I forced myself to bow deeply.

"I- I am no wolf..."

A chuckle rumbled from the left side of the table.

"So this is the little one who has yet to shift."

Said a woman with braided silver hair, her voice smooth as silk yet laced with amusement.

I clenched my fists.

I had heard those whispers before... About being wolfless. Weak. Late-bloomer. Unworthy.

"Leave her be, Ayane."

A deep voice muttered from across the table.

"She is here for a reason."

I dared to lift my head. The weight of their gazes bore into mine.

King Marcus leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table.

"Take your seat. You can enjoy the feast with us."

He ordered, his expression unreadable.

And before I could move, he spoke again.

"Do you know why you have been called here?"

I swallowed.

"No, Your M-Majesty."

King Marcus studied me for a moment before exchanging a glance with the Elder at his right.

"Because you have yet to shift."

He said.

I flinched.

Shame curled in my stomach like a snake.

Another voice, softer but firm, spoke up.

"You are the last in your generation, Brielle Fox of Shadow Walker Pack. The only one who has yet to find her wolf."

The room was silent. Then the King stood.

"And yet, we believe there is a reason for it."

Marcus said, I swallowed the lump in my throat when he pulled an empty chair next to him.

I could no longer say a word when one servant pushed me lightly and helped me settle down.

"A- A reason?"

I asked confused.

A knowing smile tugged at the corner of King Marcus's lips

"You may be more than you think, Foxy. More than a simple wolf."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Tomorrow, you will begin training with the court."

King Marcus declared.

"We will find out exactly what you are."

My heart pounded so loudly I barely heard the murmurs of the others.

I had come expecting humiliation. Like the same I received from my own people. From my own pack.

Instead, I had been given a challenge.

A chance...

And I would not run from it.

At least not yet...