1 Her Ball

Chapter One: Her Ball

"Laurel, it is time." A deep masculine voice spoke from the door. It was her father, King Titus of the Green Valleys Kingdom, the man who'd be selling her today.

"I don't want to get auctioned out, Father," she dared to say. The worst he'd do was kill her, and then she'd never have to be sold anyway.

Laurel slowly turned to face her father in fright, regretting the words that left her lips. Her hairs stood as her eyes met her father's blue ones, chillingly cold even in the dark. He had a calculating look in his eyes, one that sent shivers down Laurel's spine.

"I mean, yes, Father, I'll leave this instant—"

The remaining words were stuck in her throat when her father took a step forward. Laurel instinctively stepped back, but she was soon met with a wall.

"I'm sor—"

But she didn't have a chance to complete her sentence. His raised hand landed on her face, striking her again and again before he grabbed a fistful of her hair and hurled her toward the mannequin that held her dress for tonight.

Laurel collapsed in a heap but her father paid no mind. He simply adjusted his tunic and straightened the sword hanging on his hip.

"Five minutes," he said, before walking out.

Laurel bit her lips, hurriedly putting herself in her dress, holding her cheeks with one hand. She couldn't cry; she was so used to it that she didn't have to react to the pain. She still had to wear a smile for her auction.

To think that she was wearing her dream dress, yet she felt none of the joy she had imagined for herself. All the laces and ribbons could not hide the fact that she was packaged goods, ready to be auctioned off to some old Alpha tonight on her eighteenth birthday.

She once thought that she could find her mate tonight and live happily ever after. But it wasn't to be so.

Laurel fell ill as a baby, making her mother travel far and wide to search for a remedy. She never returned and was reported dead.

Two years later, when her father couldn't contain the frustration of losing his mate, he took it out on his daughter, claiming she killed her mother.

How the hell would a three-year-old kill her own mother? All the people of Green Valleys believed it and hated her for killing their Luna. They termed her a curse, and she was thus treated like one.

A groan escaped Laurel's lips as the dress brushed against a wound she got yesterday. She bit through the pain and rushed her feet into her shoes before heading out, her back straight.

Her father was outside, looking like he didn't just assault her. Laurel didn't look it either. He stretched his arm to her, and she wrapped hers around his elbow as they matched into the ballroom.

She didn't feel excitement for the decorations and the designs at the ball; they weren't for her, no matter how grand and opulent they were.

But her eyes lit up when she noticed the huge chandelier above her, shimmering in gold and glassy stones. She had to force herself to look away.

The royal guests were dressed in their finest gowns and suits, and the room was filled with lively laughter.

But there was no streak of joy in Laurel. Her father soon left her to welcome his guests.

"The Alpha of the Silent River Pack. Very handsome."

Laurel turned and found Lena, her maid, behind her. "What are you doing at the ball? Do you want my father to kill you?"

"He said I could accompany you for the last time," the teenage girl replied cheekily. "You look like a fairy, Princess."

"For the old men to gawk at." Laurel rolled her eyes.

Lena shrugged, keeping the pillow on the bed. "It's not half bad. The older, the better, they say. And he'd be an Alpha, so plenty of money and power."

Laurel couldn't believe how naïve the girl could be. "You'd better not let my father see you," she said. Who knew if he would change his mind about Lena's permissions?

"I'll go get a drink then, Princess."

"And stop with the 'princess'!" But it was too late. Lena was already gone.

Unfortunately, she had also caught someone else's attention. Her frown deepened when she noticed the Alpha of the Silent River Pack coming her way.

"Great," she groaned under her breath.

The Alpha was one man who had a history of being abusive and had even hit her when she was younger for spilling a drink on him.

But as she got older, he was one of the men rushing for her hand in marriage. It was irritating and annoying, but such was her life.

'Run before he gets to you,' Elma, her wolf, harshly said. 'There's somewhere else we have to be.'

She seemed distracted, and Laurel quickly scanned the crowd in search of what it was that had caught Elma's attention. Her eyes landed on an attractive young man who was pacing around behind her father. As soon as she caught sight of him, Laurel felt her breath clog in her throat.

Even from a distance, she could smell the tantalizing scent of strawberry and apple. It hit her like a blast and her heart started to race. Her wolf was also getting impatient.

'Our mate, Laurel,' Elma pestered. 'I feel he's our mate. That strange man.'

When Lena came back holding two glasses, Laurel hadn't even spared her a glance. She snatched the glasses and rushed to the young man. The closer she got, the stronger the scent became. Laurel was starting to grow weak in the knees, her heart thumping wildly against her ribcage. By the time she stopped in front of him, she felt faint.

"Mate…" The word slipped from his lips and Laurel knew for certain she had found her fated love, and he recognized her too.

When he turned to face her, Laurel was finally able to examine his features up close. He wore a red and gold suit, was tall and handsome, and had alluring blue eyes that held the ocean in his irises. A unique sword hung at his side, one she hadn't seen around before. Wasn't he from a neighboring pack?

"Hello, Sir," she greeted, a little breathless and unsure of what to say. "Will you do me the honor of sharing your name?"

She gave a glass of wine to him, which he took, staring into her green eyes. It made her stomach do somersaults.

"Stefan," he replied, a small smile dancing across his lips. "And you?"

"Laurel—"

"Princess Laurel!"

Her head snapped to Lena, who was walking hurriedly toward her. The maid paused when she saw the handsome man Laurel was speaking to.

"Oh!" She tugged at her hair. "I'm sorry for disturbing, Princess, but your father wants to speak with you."

Laurel rolled her eyes. She had told Lena not to call her that one too many times.

When she turned back to face Stefan, however, she took a step back in shock. Her mate's gaze was dark, glaring at her venomously. The glass slipped from her hands and fell to the ground.

"You… You're the princess?" he asked. "Titus's daughter?" Both anger and pain were in Stefan's voice.

Laurel could sense something heavily wrong. He had addressed her father with his name; he was surely not fond of her father. "I am. Why?"

"It's sad, Laurel. I am not very fond of your father." Stefan's breathing slowed down until it became oddly calm. "And I have a fiancée. The moon goddess is tricky, isn't she?"