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Chapter 4

Author: Timi Rachael
last update publish date: 2026-05-07 04:43:57

Elsie’s POV 

I froze in my tracks. 

I had always been daring, stubborn, reckless even—but this? This was beyond rebellion. If I was caught, the shame would destroy my father. But if I stayed, the mating would destroy me. 

Nearby, an older woman pounded grain into a mortar with exhausted arms. A crying baby was strapped to her back while two toddlers clung to her skirts. 

She looked hollow. Drained. Trapped. 

That would be me in ten years. 

No. 

The thought followed me all the way back home. 

Inside my room, I grabbed a scrap of parchment and scribbled a checklist with trembling hands. 

Chest binds. 

Hair cut. 

Scent concealer. 

Supplies. 

Twin-fang blades. 

Anesthetic leaves. 

The last item was for the warrior whose place I intended to steal. The numbers had to match. If someone simply vanished, they’d search immediately. But if a warrior overslept before departure? That was believable. 

I spent the rest of the day preparing while the village buzzed with excitement for tomorrow’s mating ceremony. By coincidence—or perhaps mercy from the Moon Goddess—the ceremony would happen almost at the same time the warriors departed for Iron Hold. 

Perfect distraction. 

The next morning, I forced myself to act normal during breakfast while Father proudly discussed the warriors chosen to serve the Lycan King. 

Even I was curious about him. No one in the Sunset Pack had ever truly seen the Lycan King. He was more legend than man, ruling from a distant mountain fortress. 

By afternoon, it was time to choose my target. 

Dalton. 

Father would never send both his sons away, meaning Theo would stay while Dalton marched. 

And Dalton had one predictable habit.

Every afternoon, he drank herbal tea before heading to the clearing.

When Mother disappeared into the larder, I slipped into the kitchen and crushed the anesthetic leaves into his cup.

My pulse nearly killed me.

Every second felt like I would be caught.

But I wasn’t.

I watched from the hallway as Dalton drank the tea.

Ten minutes later, he rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Think I’ll rest for a bit before departure.”

Relief hit so hard my knees weakened.

Stage one was complete.

Later, I stood before my mirror.

The girl staring back at me was supposed to become a bride tonight.

Instead, she was about to disappear.

Beside me, the green silk mating dress shimmered softly in candlelight.

In one hour, the warriors would leave.

Soon after, Mother would come help me prepare for a ceremony that would never happen.

My fingers tightened around the shears.

“It has to go.”

My long brown hair had always been Mother’s pride. She used to brush it every night, telling me it made me beautiful. Desirable. Luna material.

I hated it for exactly that reason.

The first cut hurt the most.

A thick lock slid silently to the floor.

Then another.

And another.

Soon, hair surrounded my feet like pieces of the life I was abandoning.

My throat burned, but I kept cutting until uneven strands barely brushed my jaw.

Freedom mattered more.

Breathing shakily, I wrapped linen tightly around my chest until it hurt to inhale.

Thankfully, my figure wasn’t overly curvy. After pulling on loose clothes, my shape flattened enough to pass.

Enough if nobody looked too closely.

Enough if nobody touched me.

I shoved stolen scent-concealing pouches into my bag, covered my head with a scarf, and slipped out of the house.

The village glowed with celebration.Women carried flowers. Children laughed. Music echoed through the streets.

None of it belonged to me anymore.

Near the training grounds, I ducked behind a storage shed and changed into scavenged warrior gear. The leather vest hung loose on my smaller frame, so I smeared dirt across my face to make myself appear rougher.

My only real problem was my size.

At five-foot-six, I was average for a woman.

For a male wolf warrior? Barely more than a pup.

I’d just have to pretend I was younger.

By the time I reached the clearing, warriors already stood in organized rows while the commander barked orders.

My pulse thundered.

If Father saw me, everything would end instantly.

But he wasn’t there.

Relief nearly buckled my knees.

He was probably at the Alpha estate preparing for the mating ceremony.

The ceremony that would never happen.

At the last possible second, I slipped quietly into the final empty position in line.

Dalton’s place.

Guilt twisted painfully inside me.

Please let us leave before they notice.

As if the Moon Goddess answered, the commander suddenly shouted—

“Move!”

The line surged forward.

And just like that, I crossed beyond the Sunset Pack borders for the first time in my life.

Freedom tasted terrifying.

The warrior beside me snorted quietly. “Didn’t know they started recruiting runts.”

Another laughed. “Probably volunteered himself to death.”

I lowered my head quickly.

But despite the fear clawing through me…

He.

Not she.

Relief washed through my chest.

By now, Mother would be finding my ruined room. They’d discover Dalton unconscious. They’d know exactly what I’d done.

My family might hate me forever.

Still, as the forest swallowed the Sunset Pack behind us, only one thought mattered.

I was free.

************

By the fourth day of marching, I thought my legs would fall off.

Training had not prepared me for this.

Dust coated my skin. Sweat soaked my bindings. Every muscle screamed each night when we stopped to camp.

Worse, the farther we traveled, the weaker the mindlink with my family became until eventually—

Nothing.

The silence hurt more than expected.

No Mother.

No Father.

No familiar pack presence brushing against my mind.

For the first time in my life, I felt completely alone.

When Iron Hold finally appeared on the horizon, my breath caught.

Massive black stone walls towered like the spine of some ancient beast.

Thousands of tents spread across the surrounding fields while warriors moved everywhere looking huge, scarred and deadly.

The entire place radiated power.

And suddenly, I felt very small.

We were herded toward a registration table near the gates.

Panic slammed into me.

I didn’t even have a male name prepared.

Think, Elsie.

“Elias,” I whispered.

Close enough to answer naturally.

When my turn came, the exhausted man behind the table barely glanced up.

“Name and pack?”

“Elias. Sunset Pack.”

I roughened my voice.

His eyes narrowed slightly at the cloth covering my face. “What’s with the mask?”

My stomach dropped.

“Medical issue,” I croaked. “Scarring from a rogue attack. Cold air irritates it.”

One long second passed.

Then he shrugged.

“Fine. Tent 42.”

Relief nearly made me dizzy.

I grabbed the bundle shoved into my arms and hurried deeper into camp. 

How many men would I be sharing a tent with? 

Ten? Twenty? 

How was I supposed to survive this? 

Suddenly, screaming erupted behind me. 

“Move!” 

“Get out of the way!” 

I swiveled around to see a massive, agitated warhorse. It had broken loose from its handler and was charging wildly through the crowded space. Most people scrambled out of the way, but one young recruit—a guy who looked about twenty and was paralyzed with fear—was standing right in its path. 

The horse’s hooves were seconds away from crushing him. 

I reacted before thinking. 

I sprinted forward, grabbed him by the back of his tunic and threw both of us sideways just as the horse thundered past. We hit the ground hard. I rolled instinctively, absorbing the impact before landing in a crouch. 

The horse was quickly restrained by handlers nearby. 

Silence followed. 

Dozens of warriors stared at me. 

Wonderful. 

A heavily armored commander barked sharply, “Stop gawking and get back to work!” 

The spell broke instantly. 

Perfect. 

I straightened quickly, eager to disappear before anyone started asking questions. 

Then something made me stop. 

A strange chill slid down my spine. 

Slowly, I looked up. 

Far above the camp, on a towering black stone platform overlooking everything, stood a man. 

Calling him a man felt… wrong. 

Even from this distance, he looked more like a god. I couldn't see his face clearly because of how large the camp was, but I could see the flash of his white hair moving wildly in the wind. He was tall, with a physique that radiated pure power even from hundreds of yards away. 

He stood there perfectly still, looking regal and dangerous. 

It had to be him. 

The Lycan King. 

Every instinct inside me went still because I could swear, even across that great distance, that he was looking right at me.

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Comments (1)
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Patricia Cooper
Glad she escaped you shouldn't be forced to be with someone you don't want to be with
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