1 Chapter one

OPHELIA

"A little more blush would be nice." I smiled at my reflection in the mirror. One of the female Omega servants attending to me nodded and ran the brush around my cheeks. It heightened the pink hue, giving me a more elegant glow.

I smiled, batting my lashes to feel more of them. They added a bit of artificial lashes to my eyes, and I must say, it's terrific.

She stepped back and the second servant replaced her, standing by my side. There were three of them.

She chose a set of earrings and necklaces from my massive box of magnificent pieces of jewelry. The finest in the region. "You're the prettiest in the Pack, my lady. That's why you have a lot of rich Alphas begging to marry you. I think you're not just pretty. You're very lucky too."

Lucky. Yeah, right. I scoffed inwardly.

My excitement dwindled and I just remained silent, staring back at my reflection.

She noticed my sudden silence and quickly bowed, trembling nervously. "I'm sorry, My lady. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't offend me. I just –" I sighed, picking up lip gloss and dabbing it on my pouty lips. It gets even poutier, and glistening.

"You just don't like to be called pretty?" She added nervously, stealing a glance at me through her lashes.

"Everybody likes to be called pretty." I chuckled lightly. How do I explain this? "It's just a matter of being called lucky 'cause I'm being hassled by dumb Alphas who think a woman is just for fuck and giving birth to pups. Assholes who think they're doing me a favor by asking to marry me when all they can offer are just dicks. Do you understand?"

She nodded vehemently. But I know she thought I was being weird and too vulgar for an Alpha princess. Everybody thinks that way, mostly Father.

Turning eighteen three months back, I embraced the freedom to say whatever, no matter how unrefined it sounds. But as the future Alpha female, I'm expected to act prim and proper. Steer clear from cuss words and other offensive words. Use words that are simple and emit elegance, whatever that means.

"You'll be the first Alpha female the Pack has ever had in a thousand years. It's a big responsibility and it requires a lot of sacrifices and revamping." Father always reminds me.

I'm more than capable of being the Alpha female of the Pack. It's been my dream and I've trained for it all my life. That's why I am against getting married to any man. I don't need a stranger telling me how to run my Pack. Even though Father thinks I'll be needing the help of a partner when I become Alpha. Eventually, I'll have to pick one of those assholes as my mate.

But having to use plain words will bore me to death. I tried to make him understand that. There's nothing wrong with a little vulgarity. It doesn't make me less of an Alpha Princess, or less of a future Alpha female.

"And…we're done!" The head servant announced and they stepped away from me, with glowing smiles on their faces.

I stared at the mirror, checking out all angles of my dolled-up oval face. I've always been a natural beauty, but I can never underestimate the magic of makeup. It's incredible. I look divine!

"I can't wait to show Father my new look." I giggled, getting up to my feet. I stepped on my long dress and almost hit the ground, but I held onto the vanity, steadying myself.

Fuck dresses! I hate them but I have to wear them. Father burnt all my casual clothes – pants, skimpy skirts, and shorts– the day I turned 18. According to him, it's not appropriate to wear shorts, crop tops, and their likes as a future Alpha female. But these dresses keep making me trip over. When am I ever gonna get comfortable in them?

The ruckus outside got my attention and my head came flipping up.

"What's going on?" I asked no one in particular. The servants exchanged confused looks but they had no answer. I don't expect them to. We're all in here and the ruckus was coming from outside.

"Wait here, I'll go check it out." I head for the door but it bursts open and I quickly step back.

A man stormed in, wearing a hood and dressed in attire that was very foreign to me. The servants cowered in fear, coming to hide behind me.

I, on the other hand, felt more rage than fear. Who the hell was he and how dare he storm into my bedroom like an unruly beast?

"Who the hell are you?!" I asked furiously, clasping a bit of my dress in my fisted hands.

He took off his hood, but his face rang no bell. He's not a part of the Packhouse guards. He's not even a part of our Pack.

"We've been asked to bring you in, Princess." He said in a gruff. He reached for my hand but I evaded his sick touch.

"The nerve of you to come in here and try to touch me." I snorted, growing redder in fury. "Who the fuck are you?"

"You'll find out. So come with me." He aimed for me again, but I slapped his hands off. For the umpteenth time, I cussed at my dress. I wish I was in pants, it would have made kicking his face easier.

"Get out of here right now!" I pointed to the exit. "I don't care who sent you down here. I just need you to get lost!"

"Not without you!" He barked, rushing to get me but I ducked and hit his nape with my hand. He staggered and I kicked his ass which made him fall to the ground, grunting in pain.

"Come on." I gestured at the servants, all three of them. They hurried beside me as we left my room.

I gasped at the unconscious bodies of the Packhouse guards lying in the hallway. Are we being attacked by rogues? Would they dare come in here in broad daylight?

"This way!" I yelled, running to the south wing of the building, to where Father's bedroom was. I needed to speak to him to know what was happening.

"Going somewhere?!" Firm hands grabbed me, pinning me to the wall. I tried to squirm away from the crushing hold but it was too strong. Like ten times a normal werewolf's strength. I couldn't pull away from him. I couldn't see his face either.

Cries of my servants filled the hallways and I turned, seeing them hurled on the shoulders of burly men and being carried away.

"Where are you taking them?!" I yelled, gasping as the side of my face was roughly crushed against the wall.

"Shouldn't you be more concerned about what your fate is gonna be?" The deep, croaky voice rasped in my ear. "Move!" He yelled, yanking me from the wall and forcing me out of the Packhouse.

'Father.' My mind calls out to him. 'Father, where are you?' I repeatedly called out to him as I got dragged out of the building.