Chapter 2 Moonlight offering

The door to Fidira's attic sanctuary crashed open, the ancient hinges groaning in protest. Melissa stood framed in the doorway, her thin lips pressed into a tight line of determination. In her arms, she clutched a bundle of white fabric that seemed to glow faintly in the blue moonlight streaming through the window.

"Get ready," Melissa sneered, her voice carrying an unmistakable note of triumph as she thrust the white dress at Fidira. "Your father has made his decision."

Fidira caught the garment reflexively, feeling the unexpected softness of the material beneath her fingertips. It was finer than anything she'd ever been allowed to wear-pure white linen embroidered with silver thread along the hem and neckline. A sacrifice dress, meant to make her look appealing to the werewolves who would soon claim her.

"How long have you been planning this?" Fidira asked, her mismatched eyes meeting her stepmother's. There was no tremor in her voice, no fear-only a hollow resignation that seemed to unsettle Melissa.

"Don't flatter yourself," Melissa spat, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. "This was simply... convenient. Maxwell was chosen in the initial lottery, but your father petitioned for a substitution. The town elders agreed-they've never trusted your strangeness anyway."

Fidira nodded slowly, running her fingers over the silver embroidery. Little moons, she realized, stitched with painstaking care. "And if I refuse?"

Melissa's laugh was brittle, like breaking glass. "Then we drag you to the square in whatever rags you're wearing. The werewolves won't care they only want warm flesh. But the town has traditions and appearances to maintain." Her expression hardened. "Don't make this difficult, girl. For once in your life, be useful to this family."

Without waiting for a response, Melissa turned and stalked toward the door, pausing only briefly at the threshold. "You have one hour. Make yourself presentable." A cruel smile flickered across her face. "Who knows? Maybe the beasts will find those freakish eyes of yours appealing."

The door slammed shut, and Fidira heard the key turn in the lock not that escape had ever crossed her mind. Where would she go? The town was surrounded by wilderness, and beyond that, werewolf territory stretched for miles.

She held the dress up to the moonlight, watching as the silver threads caught and reflected the blue glow. For seventeen years, she had been an unwanted burden, a reminder of her mother's death, a stain on her father's new family. Tonight, that would end, one way or another.

With steady hands, Fidira began to undress, surrendering herself to whatever fate awaited beyond the town's borders