Rain
If there's a special corner in hell for people who enjoy public celebrations, then reserve me a seat. Front row. I hate this day.
Moon Goddess Day—an annual excuse to celebrate… something. Love? Unity? Drunk howling? To me, it's just sweaty bodies dancing under lanterns, greasy meat, and the pack howling louder than the bass-thumping war chant remixes.
And at the center of this circus?
Alpha Batista.
There he was—prancing onto the podium. His hair (too perfect), his grin (too wide), and his ego (too damn inflated). The crowd lost their collective minds the second he raised his hands.
"Alright, alright, LISTEN UP!" he shouted, "Tonight is not for brooding, or worrying about tomorrow. Nah—tonight, we party!"
Cue screaming. Howling. A woman fainted. I kid you not.
He winked, swaggered, and I swear he even did a spin. "Eat, drink, go feral—I don't care! Everything's on me!"
Then he paused dramatically. I held my breath—purely to avoid the smell of roasted meat and spiced ale.
"And ladies," he purred, wiggling his eyebrows like some cartoon villain, "don't forget to SHAKE what your momma gave you!"
Then. The horror. The absolute catastrophe.
He turned around—and shook his own alpha ass.
The courtyard exploded. Wolves howled. Cups flew. Someone screamed, "I LOVE YOU, BATI!" and I briefly considered stabbing myself with a meat skewer just to get out of this nightmare.
Everyone was thrilled.
Except me.
I stood in the shadows, arms crossed, jaw clenched so tight I could chew diamonds. They saw a fun, golden-hearted leader. A lovable goofball who made them laugh and gave them beer.
I saw the truth.
He was a fraud.
Once, a long time ago, I loved him. Before I learned what kind of man hides behind that pretty-boy smile.
Dan showed me. He opened my eyes.
"Why are you lurking in the shadows like a thief?"
I flinched, spun around, and there she was. Matilda. Head servant. Forever irritated.
"Trying to avoid work, are we?" she added, raising a brow.
I gave her my most innocent look. "Of course not, ma'am. I was just… observing the descent of civilization."
She squinted at me. "The kitchen is in chaos. Pots flying. Flour on the ceiling. Someone's on fire—I don't even know how. Go."
I sighed. "Yes, ma'am."
And with one last glance at the podium—where Batista was now being carried around like a damn war hero by drunk uncles—I turned on my heel and marched into the madness of the kitchen.
I'd spent my entire life in that suffocating kitchen—the same cramped space my mother had been chained to before me. The kitchen wasn't just a room—it was my prison, my inheritance, my curse.
Born an omega from a nameless bloodline, I had nothing. No future worth dreaming about. In this world, power meant survival, and I was invisible.
My dad? He died when I was five. Sometimes I still try to piece his face together in my mind, but it's like trying to hold smoke. All I remember is that life was softer when he was around. We weren't rich, but we had warmth, laughter… hope.
Then he was gone.
After his death, the rumors spread—she poisoned him, slipped something into his tea to be free of him. The whispers clung to my mother's name, but I knew better. She was stubborn, loud, impossible to please—but never a murderer.
People loved to talk. Especially when you were too low on the totem pole to fight back.
But one day, they'd all see.
Even an omega can rise.
The second I pushed through the swinging doors, someone grabbed my wrist and yanked me into the dark hallway. I gasped, but before I could scream, lips crashed onto mine.
Warm. Hungry. Familiar.
Dan.
My heart kicked like a drum in my chest.
"God, I missed you," he whispered against my lips, before kissing me again like he was starving. His fingers tangled in my hair, and I forgot where I was.
The noise from the courtyard faded.
I clung to his shirt. "I missed you too," I whispered when we finally broke apart.
"You look exhausted."
I tried to smile. "You try surviving Moon Goddess Day with flour in your ears."
He laughed softly, brushing hair out of my face. "Don't worry. Everything ends today. I'll make sure of it."
I froze.
"Tonight," he said, eyes burning, "I'll tell everyone. You're my mate."
My breath hitched.He said it like a promise, like a vow—but did he mean it?
"You won't have to work here again. No more scrubbing. No more hiding in the shadows. I swear, Rain—I'll make you a queen."
A queen.
I wanted to cry. Or scream. Or laugh. Maybe all three.
It sounded too good. But I wanted to believe it. Desperately.
"Do you trust me?" he asked, pulling me closer.
I swallowed hard. My voice was barely a whisper. "Yes."
His smile melted me.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out something shiny. A silver necklace, with a little moon pendant that shimmered in the torchlight.
"This is for you," he said, moving behind me to clasp it around my neck. His fingers brushed the mark he left on me last night—the claiming mark.
The skin burned a little. I didn't care.
I remembered everything—his hands, his breath, the way he said my name like a prayer. My cheeks flushed just thinking about it.
He tilted my chin up. "Wear this always. And think of me."
My fingers touched the cool pendant. "It's beautiful," I whispered. "I'll never take it off."
He kissed me once more—soft and slow—and then he was gone, slipping into the crowd like he'd never been there.
I stood alone in the hallway, my heart racing, my lips still tingling.
Me. Rain. The orphan with no wolf. The girl everyone forgot.
The mate of the Beta.
They wouldn't believe it. But they would.
I was humming.
Actually humming. I was happy—truly happy. I didn't even know what the tune was, just something fluttering off my lips as I moved around the kitchen, light on my feet, like the ground had forgotten how to hold me down.
I thought I would never fall in love again after Batista, I used to love him. I mean really love him. The kind of love that made everything else disappear. He was the Alpha. My Alpha. My entire sky.
And the worst part? He knew.
He knew what he meant to me. And he used it. He played the role perfectly—soft glances when no one was looking, the sudden appearances when I needed help, the little smirks that made my knees go stupid. I thought it meant something.
But now?
Now I know what it really was.
Guilt.
He killed my mother, and her ghost must've whispered through the halls every time he saw me. He tried to silence it with kindness, with lies disguised as care.
And I ate it up. God, I ate it all.
Dan says he only stayed close to me because she haunted him.
I slammed the knife down a little too hard.
"I hate him," I muttered. The words tasted metallic.
But why was he still in my head?
Well, enough is enough. Dan is my mate, and I trust and love him.
"Can you stop that racket?" Matilda snapped, startling me out of my spiral.
I blinked at her, my heartbeat trying to steady itself. "What?"
"Someone's asking for you outside," she said with a huff, already turning away like she couldn't stand the sight of me.
I didn't answer her. I just wiped my hands, composed myself and walked outside.
And there she was—Victoria.
"Rain!" she said.
I didn't even think. I ran to her, threw my arms around her, and buried my face in her neck.
" I'm so happy for you!" she squealed, pulling back just enough to study my face. "You're glowing, Rain. This is your big day!"
I laughed, softly. "I don't know what I'm doing," I admitted. "Part of me still thinks I'm dreaming."
She squeezed my fingers. "It's real. He loves you. And you deserve every bit of this."
Victoria. Daughter of Elder Zed. Silver spoon in her mouth, pressure around her neck. She was supposed to be Batista's eighth concubine soon.
She never called me wolfless with that smug sneer the others used.
I'd told her everything.
There were no secrets between us.
"I'm nervous," I whispered, burying my face in her shoulder. "Dan's going to announce it… today. In front of the entire pack."
She pulled back just enough to beam at me. "You should be nervous. Half the she-wolves are going to keel over from heartbreak. Dan's too dreamy for his own good."
I laughed, but it came out shaky. "I doubt that."
"No, I mean it. Rain, he's going to call you his mate. His mate. Do you even understand what that means?"
"Of course I do," I said, but my chest felt tight. "It means everything's about to change."
It means I have to let go of Batista.
My heart twisted.
I hated him now. I kept telling myself that. Repeating it like a prayer. Like maybe if I said it enough, I'd believe it.
"Rain," Victoria said softly, as if she could read my mind. "You have to forget him."
I blinked at her.
"I mean it," she said. "Whatever you think you felt for Batista—whatever lies he made you believe—it wasn't real. You hate him now, right? Then keep hating him. Let it burn everything that's left."
"I do hate him," I whispered. "I hate him so much it hurts."
"Good," she said. "Then focus on Dan. He's the future. He's the one who loves you. He's the one who deserves you. Not that monster."
I nodded, trying to force the image of Batista's face out of my mind. "You're right."
"I know I am," she said, then smirked. "Now get going. Batista is throwing one of his royal tantrums. Something about not enough wine and meat on his precious table."
I groaned. "Again? I just served him like ten minutes ago."
"I know," she rolled her eyes. "He's insufferable. But hurry before he blames me for his gluttony."
I hesitated, then looked at her, guilt creeping in. "I'm sorry your father is forcing you to marry such a horrible person."
She smiled. "It's okay. At least I know how to communicate with him now."
My stomach turned.
"I'll be fine," she added quickly. "But you? You have a future. So go get his royal highness his food."
I rushed back to the kitchen, stacked the trays, and turned to leave—only for Victoria to intercept me.
"Wait," she said. "leave the tray with me," already reaching for it. "This food needs salt."
I blinked. "Oh… right. Good idea." I handed it ove, as she cradled the tray like it was delicate glass."You know Batista is obssess with salt."
Without another word, I turned and rushed back inside to grab the shaker. Just a few seconds, that's all I was gone.
When I returned, Victoria was standing exactly where I'd left her, tray in hand, smile calm and unreadable.
"Here," I said, placing the salt shaker on the tray.
"Now go serve it," Victoria said coolly. "And please—don't get distracted. You know how Batista is. If he can't cause a scene in public, he'll make me pay for it in private."
I clenched my jaw. Victoria had told me everything—every bruise, every cruel word, every night she'd hidden her tears. She didn't sugarcoat it. She wanted me to know what he really was.
"Don't worry," I said. "He'll get his food—piping hot and just the way he likes it."
Victoria smiled, but there was something in her eyes—something sharper than fear.
As I walked toward the Alpha's table, I had no idea the plate I carried held more than just food.
I was carrying a death sentence.