Sacrificed To The Beast: The Wolfless Mate

Elara Thorne POV:

I stood in a corner, looking at the grand wedding in front of me, the crowd coming and going. However, instead of feeling festive, my heart was full of unwillingness and grievance.

Today was my father's second wedding, and the Silver Ridge Pack was holding a grand wedding ceremony for him since he was the Alpha.

Although this wasn't his first marriage, my father still attached great importance to it. He made sure that the wedding venue was decorated lavishly, and I overheard some people saying that it was even more beautiful than that of his wedding with my mother. My father had also invited many Alphas here, which showed how much he loved and respected his new bride.

But what he failed to realize was that today was also the death anniversary of my mother.

The wedding progressed smoothly, and everyone looked so happy. My mother's grave, on the other hand, was desolate and lonesome, without anyone there to visit her.

I didn't want to be at this stupid wedding. I just wanted to accompany my mother now.

"Debra, where are you going?"

A sharp female voice sounded from not far away, interrupting my conversation with Vicky Todd, my maid.

I turned to look in the direction of the voice and saw my stepmother, Marley Clarkson, and her servant walking to us.

Marley was much younger than my father. In fact, she was only four years older than me. She was the daughter of the Alpha of the Frosty River Pack and exceedingly beautiful. Marley's white wedding dress billowed in the breeze. Her wavy blonde hair framed her face perfectly. She looked as pretty as a porcelain doll.

Not wanting to talk to her, I turned my head away.

"Are you planning to miss an occasion as important as this and embarrass your father's Luna?" Marley demanded.

"Of course not!" Vicky hurriedly stepped in to mediate. "Debra's tired and wants to have a rest, that's all."

"Is that so?" Marley narrowed her eyes at me and suddenly cracked a smile. "Good. I want to talk to you about something."

"Why?" I asked, staring at her vigilantly.

I never got along with Marley, but for the sake of my father's happiness, I tried to stay out of her way as much as possible. And Marley never came to me on her own accord.

Now, she wanted to speak with me. My intuition told me that something bad was about to happen.

"Relax." Marley's grin widened. "I just want to borrow the necklace you're wearing. It'll go perfectly with my wedding dress."

"Sorry, but no." I refused without hesitation. "This was my mother's."

The necklace I was wearing was the only thing my mother had left me, and I treasured it dearly. It was my only connection to my mother. Whenever I was wearing it, I felt that my mother was close and had never left me.

Of course, I would never lend it to anyone, let alone my stepmother.

Marley seemed to read my mind. She softened her tone and said gently, "Why are you so cold to me? It's our first day together as a family."

If Marley treated me as a family like she claimed, she wouldn't have tried to take away my mother's last belonging.

"Sorry, but I can't lend it to you." I narrowed my eyes at her coldly.

"Then don't blame me. I need that necklace." Marley's gentle smile was instantly replaced by a sneer. She then signaled to her servants.

The two servants immediately sprang into action. One grabbed my left arm, while the other grabbed my right. They forced me to kneel, my knees hitting the ground hard.

Wincing in pain, I raised my head and saw Marley standing before me.

Her beautiful face was tainted with mockery. She stretched out her slender hand and yanked the necklace off my neck.

The next second, the clasp came undone and the necklace was taken away from me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I never thought this woman would be so shameless. "Marley, give me back my necklace!"

Even Vicky was aghast. "You can't do this! That necklace was given to Debra by her mother!"

As she spoke, Vicky hurried forward to block Marley from leaving.

One of the servants who were holding me kicked her away.

Vicky stumbled and fell, her forehead slamming into the stone pillar. Blood trickled down from the wound, staining her pale face.

Vicky was my mother's best friend. After my mother passed away, she stayed in the pack for my sake and remained single all her life. She practically raised me.

How dare Marley hurt her like this!

My wolf, Ivy, became restless. I, too, was driven mad with anger.

Ivy growled in my mind, "Rip them to shreds, Debra!"

But before I could do anything reckless, Vicky struggled to stand on her feet. Leaning on the stone pillar for support, she managed to cry out, "Debra, don't do anything rash!"

I knew she was right. Because Marley was now married to my father, she was officially the Luna of our pack. If I laid a finger on her, my father and all the members of our pack would sense it immediately.

As Vicky spoke, the blood trickled down from her eyebrow to her chin.

Seeing her like this made my heart ache so much. I rushed over to help her.

"Eww, this necklace is so cheap." A playful smile appeared on Marley's face as she took a closer look at my mother's necklace. "How could your mother leave you such a cheap thing? Pathetic!"

As she spoke, she fiddled with my necklace casually.

"Don't worry. I'll give it back to you. It's just a necklace. I'll have countless better necklaces now that I'm the Luna."

Click!

Marley threw my necklace to the ground as hard as she could. The chain instantly broke, and the gems clattered to the ground one by one.

The only thing my mother had left to me was ruined.

For a split second, I felt as though my heart was being squeezed by an invisible, oppressive force.

Ears buzzing, I knelt down to pick up the stray gems in a daze.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up from the back of my hand.

Marley had stepped on my hand.

She dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand deeply.

"You are the daughter of a noble Alpha. How dare you touch dirty trash? Let go, my dear stepdaughter."

I slowly raised my head to look up at her, my eyes filled with hatred and anger.

"Fuck this bitch!" Ivy was so angry that she wanted to rip Marley to shreds. "Bitch, move your stinky foot away!"

Of course, Marley didn't budge. She had nothing to fear after all.

She smiled at me scornfully and warned, "Debra, you'd better learn how to respect your new Luna."

Just then, the wedding music started to play. Marley slowly removed her foot, straightened her dress, and walked away haughtily, followed by her servants.

Ignoring the pain in my hand, I continued to pick up the stray gems on the ground.

Now I understood why Marley wanted the necklace in the first place. It turned out she just wanted to send a message to me-loud and clear.

Up until this point, Marley had only avoided me because she hadn't married my father yet and wasn't officially the Luna. Today was her wedding. Now that she had the power, she wanted to teach her rebellious stepdaughter a lesson. She wanted to show me who the pack's real matriarch was.

"Oh, you poor thing..." Vicky sighed and helped me up. "Don't worry. I'll fix the necklace. I promise it'll look exactly like it used to."

"Thanks, Vicky." I forced a smile at her, trying my best to swallow my sadness.

The wedding of my father and Marley officially began.

Under the dazzling lights, my father and Marley celebrated their love, whereas the werewolves celebrated and welcomed their new Luna. No one noticed me, the pitiful, disheveled she-wolf in the corner, and no one remembered my dead mother.

Depressed and angry, I grabbed a whole bottle of wine and downed its contents in an effort to numb the pain.

I wasn't good at holding my alcohol. It didn't take long before my vision started to blur and my mind began to whirl.

But no matter how much I drank, I couldn't forget that fucking smile on Marley's face, which made me want to puke.

I couldn't stand it. I needed to get out of here.

Just as I turned around to leave, I inadvertently ran into the person standing behind me.

Elara Thorne POV:

The collision sent me stumbling back a step. A strong hand shot out, gripping my arm to steady me. The touch was firm, impersonal, but it was enough to stop my drunken sway.

I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my vision. A man stood before me, tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in the formal attire of a visiting Alpha. His hair was the color of dark honey, and his eyes, a startling amber, were narrowed in annoyance. He looked vaguely familiar, probably one of the many pack leaders my father had invited.

"Watch where you're going," he grunted, his voice a low rumble. He released my arm as if he'd touched something distasteful.

"Sorry," I mumbled, the single word thick on my tongue. The alcohol was making my head spin, and the man's powerful presence was dizzying. He smelled of pine and winter frost, a clean, sharp scent that cut through the cloying sweetness of the wedding flowers.

He gave me one last dismissive glance, his eyes sweeping over my plain dress and disheveled state before he turned away, clearly eager to rejoin the celebration. I didn't care. All I wanted was to escape.

I pushed my way through the laughing, dancing crowd, ignoring the curious looks sent my way. The fresh night air was a relief against my flushed skin as I finally burst out onto a deserted stone terrace. I leaned against the cold balustrade, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

The music and laughter from inside felt like a world away. Here, under the cold light of the moon, the grief I'd been drowning in wine came rushing back, sharp and suffocating. My mother was dead. My father was celebrating. And that woman, Marley, was now Luna, wearing a smile that promised a future of misery for me.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I gripped the stone, my knuckles white, as my stomach churned. The wine wasn't numbing the pain; it was just making it harder to control.

"There you are."

The voice was not Marley's. It was my mother's sister, my Aunt Clara, her face etched with a familiar mixture of pity and disapproval. She was a stout woman, her Luna days long behind her, but she still carried herself with an air of authority.

"You shouldn't be out here sulking, Elara," she said, her tone clipped. "You're making a scene."

"I'm not making a scene," I retorted, my voice raw. "I'm just... getting some air."

She sighed, a long, weary sound. "Your father is happy. Can't you just be happy for him?"

The question was so absurd, so utterly tone-deaf, that a bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Happy? He's marrying that woman on the anniversary of Mom's death. How can I be happy about that?"

Clara's lips thinned into a tight line. "Your mother is gone, Elara. Life moves on. Alaric is the Alpha; he needs a Luna by his side. Marley is young, beautiful, and comes from a strong pack. It's a good match."

"It's a betrayal," I whispered, the words tasting like ash.

"It's politics," she corrected sharply. "Something you wouldn't understand. Now, come back inside. People are starting to talk." She grabbed my arm, her grip surprisingly strong.

I yanked my arm away. "No. I'm not going back in there to watch them dance on my mother's grave."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "Don't be so dramatic. You're embarrassing the family. You're embarrassing me."

"The family?" I scoffed, the alcohol making me bold. "What family? The one that forgot its first Luna the moment she was in the ground?"

"That's enough!" The sharp crack of her voice echoed on the terrace. "Your father has been patient with your moods for too long. You are the daughter of an Alpha. Start acting like it."

Her words were meant to sting, to remind me of my duty, my place. But all they did was fuel the fire of my resentment.

"I don't want to be the daughter of an Alpha," I snarled, my voice trembling with a rage that had been simmering for years. "Not his daughter. Not anymore."

A gasp escaped her lips. Her face, which had been tight with anger, was now pale with shock. "How dare you speak of your father, your Alpha, like that?"

Before I could say anything else, a shadow fell over us. I looked up to see my father, Alaric Thorne, standing in the doorway to the terrace. His face was a thunderous mask, his gray eyes like chips of ice. Marley was at his side, her expression a perfect picture of concerned innocence.

"What is going on out here?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous. It was the voice he used on the training grounds, the voice that made grown warriors flinch.

Aunt Clara immediately straightened up, her demeanor shifting from scolding to subservient. "Alaric. Elara was just feeling a bit overwhelmed. I was bringing her back inside."

My father's cold gaze swept past his sister and landed on me. He took in my tear-streaked face, my defiant posture. "Overwhelmed? Or drunk and disrespectful?"

Marley laid a delicate hand on his arm. "Darling, don't be harsh. She's just upset. It's a difficult day for her, I'm sure." Her voice was syrupy sweet, but her eyes, when they met mine over his shoulder, were glinting with triumph.

That look, that fake sympathy, was what broke me.

"Don't you talk about her!" I screamed, pointing a shaking finger at Marley. "Don't you dare pretend you care!"

"Elara!" my father roared, taking a step forward. The sheer force of his Alpha presence washed over me, a physical pressure that made it hard to breathe.

But I was too far gone to care. "You let her ruin Mom's necklace! You let her destroy the only thing I had left of her!"

My father's eyes flickered to Marley, a question in them. Marley's face crumpled beautifully. "I... I only wanted to borrow it," she whispered, a tear tracing a perfect path down her cheek. "It was an accident. I told her I would have it fixed."

Lies. All of it.

"She's lying!" I cried, my voice cracking. "She did it on purpose! She stepped on my hand, she called Mom pathetic!"

My father's face hardened. He looked from Marley's artful tears to my wild, alcohol-fueled fury. And in that moment, I knew who he would believe. He always chose the prettier picture, the easier truth.

"You are drunk and hysterical," he said, his voice dropping to a deadly calm. "You will not ruin this night for your Luna. You will go to your room. Now."

"No," I said, the word a raw whisper of defiance. "I won't be sent away while you-"

I never finished the sentence.

His hand moved faster than I could track. The sound was a sharp crack that silenced the distant music. A searing, white-hot pain exploded across my cheek, and the force of the blow sent me staggering sideways. I crashed against the stone balustrade, the rough edge scraping my back.

My ears were ringing. My cheek felt like it was on fire, and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

I slowly pushed myself up, my stunned gaze fixed on my father. He stood there, his hand still slightly raised, his face an unreadable mask of fury.

He had never hit me before. Ever.

In all my years of being a disappointment, a quiet, wolfless shadow in the corner of his life, he had never once laid a hand on me.

Until now. For her.

"You will learn to respect your Luna," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "And you will learn to respect your Alpha."

He turned his back on me then, putting a protective arm around Marley's shoulders and guiding her back into the warmth and light of the party. Aunt Clara shot me a look of horrified pity before scurrying after them, leaving me alone in the cold and the dark.

I touched my throbbing cheek, my fingers coming away wet. I didn't feel the pain. I didn't feel the cold stone at my back. I didn't feel anything at all.

It was as if that single, brutal act had cauterized a wound that had been bleeding my entire life. The part of me that had desperately, foolishly, hoped for a shred of his affection had just been struck dead.

I looked at the closed door, at the muffled sounds of celebration within. They had their new family. Their perfect Luna.

And I had nothing.

No, that wasn't true.

I had a new, cold certainty settling in the pit of my stomach. A certainty as hard and unforgiving as the stone beneath my feet.

I would never beg for his love again. I would never cry for my mother in this house again.

And one day, they would all regret this night.

Elara Thorne POV:

The world felt tilted on its axis as I pushed myself off the balustrade. Each step I took toward my room was a conscious effort, a battle against the ringing in my ears and the hollow void that had opened up in my chest. The long, empty hallway of the packhouse, usually a familiar comfort, now felt alien and menacing.

My room was in the oldest wing, far from the main suites. It was small, overlooked, and forgotten. Just like me.

My hand was on the cool brass of the doorknob when a voice, sharp and laced with amusement, cut through the silence.

"Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

I turned slowly. Leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over her chest, was my sister, Seraphina. She was a vision of perfection in a shimmering silver dress that clung to her athletic frame. Her blonde hair was a cascade of intricate braids, and her blue eyes, so like our mother's, were alight with malicious glee.

"I heard shouting," she said, pushing off the wall and sauntering toward me. Her wolf's aura, strong and vibrant, pressed in on me, a constant reminder of everything I wasn't. "I thought, who could possibly be brave enough to challenge Father on his wedding night? Of course, it had to be you."

Her eyes zeroed in on the angry red mark blooming on my cheek. A slow, cruel smile spread across her perfect lips. "Oh, dear. It seems Father finally ran out of patience. Did you get what you deserved, little sister?"

Behind her, our Aunt Clara appeared, looking flustered. "Seraphina, leave her be. She's had enough for one night."

Seraphina waved a dismissive hand at her without even looking. "Nonsense. The entertainment is just getting started." She circled me like a predator, her gaze analytical and cold. "You really are a pathetic sight. Drunk, disheveled, and now, bruised. You bring such shame to this family."

"I'm not the one who brings shame," I said, my voice flat and lifeless. The fire from earlier had burned out, leaving nothing but cold ash.

Seraphina's smile faltered, replaced by a flash of annoyance. She hated when I didn't react, when her barbs failed to find their mark. "What did you say?"

"Leave me alone, Seraphina." I turned back to my door.

She moved with lightning speed, her hand shooting out to slam against the door, blocking my way. She leaned in close, her scent of roses and ozone filling my senses, making me feel sick.

"You don't give me orders," she hissed, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "You are nothing. A wolfless runt. The only reason Father has tolerated your existence this long is out of some misplaced pity for our dead mother."

Each word was a carefully aimed blow, designed to shatter what little was left of me. For eighteen years, I had endured this. The whispers, the taunts, the constant, crushing weight of her perfection and my failure.

"Seraphina, that's enough!" Aunt Clara's voice was sharp with alarm.

But it was too late. The final thread of my control snapped.

A laugh bubbled up from my chest, a broken, hollow sound that startled even me. It wasn't a laugh of amusement. It was the sound of something inside me shattering completely.

I looked at her, truly looked at her, and for the first time, I didn't see a sister. I saw a stranger. A beautiful, cruel stranger who had built her throne on my suffering.

"You're right," I said, my voice eerily calm. The ringing in my ears had stopped. Everything was crystal clear. "I am nothing. Nothing to you. Nothing to him."

I pushed her hand off the door. The unexpected force of it made her stumble back a step, her eyes wide with surprise.

I turned to face her fully, my gaze sweeping over her, and then to our aunt standing frozen in the hallway.

"I, Elara Thorne, from this moment on, am no longer your sister," I said, the words falling like stones into the silence.

Seraphina stared at me, her mouth slightly agape. "You're insane."

My gaze shifted to the end of the hall, where my father and his new bride had just appeared, drawn by the commotion. His face was a mask of cold fury. Marley clung to his arm, a flicker of something dark and satisfied in her eyes.

I met my father's icy glare without flinching.

"And I am no longer your daughter," I declared, my voice ringing with a finality that was absolute. I looked at Marley, at the woman who had orchestrated this entire nightmare. "And I am certainly not her stepdaughter."

"You will hold your tongue!" Alaric thundered, his Alpha command washing over me, trying to force me to my knees. But it had no effect. You can't command someone who no longer recognizes your authority.

"I am done," I said, my voice rising, filled with the strength of eighteen years of pain. "I am done being your shame, your disappointment, your sacrifice. You have your perfect daughter, your perfect Luna. You don't need me."

I took a step back, my hand finding the doorknob again.

"So I am releasing you from the burden of my existence," I said, my eyes locking onto my father's. "And I am releasing myself from you."

"This is madness," Aunt Clara whispered, her hand over her mouth.

"She's lost her mind!" Seraphina shrieked, her perfect composure finally cracking.

I ignored them. My world had narrowed to the space between me and the man who called himself my father.

"Enjoy your new life, Alpha Thorne," I said, the title a deliberate insult.

Then, I turned, opened my door, and stepped inside.

"SLAM."

The heavy oak door shuddered in its frame as I threw the bolt. The sound was deafening, a final, irrevocable severing.

On the other side, I could hear Seraphina's enraged screams, my father's furious roars. They could shout all they wanted. They were outside. And I was in.

I leaned my back against the cold, solid wood, the barrier I had just erected between my past and my future. The strength that had carried me through the last ten minutes drained away in a sudden, dizzying rush.

My legs gave out.

I slid down the length of the door until I was huddled in a heap on the floor.

A single, hot tear escaped my eye, then another. They weren't the tears of a heartbroken daughter. They were the tears of a prisoner who had just been handed the key to her own cage, even if that cage was the only home she had ever known.

I didn't make a sound. I cried in the silent, suffocating way I had learned as a child, my shoulders shaking in the darkness.

This was the end of Elara Thorne.

And the beginning of something else entirely.