THE BROKEN LUNA: MATED TO THE CRIPPLED ALPHA

"You are cursed."

Those words had been whispered to Aria from the moment she was born, and tonight, they echoed louder than ever.

The music and the celebration thundered through the hall, all of it was for her – the broken wolf, the stillblood, the unwanted bride.

Aria stood beside the feast table, her legs cramped as she tightly clenched her fingers. This was her celebration, but she was forbidden to even sit.

She was wearing a long crimson dress that hung tightly to her scars, her shoulders throbbed where the long diagonal marks hid beneath the fabric.

No chains bound her wrist tonight, yet she felt more trapped than ever. Her eyes were down, she dared not look up – lest she provoke another beating.

"Dance, Aria, Dance." from across the hall, someone jeered.

"You're the guest of honour aren't you?" another sneered, "You should dance for us."

Ronan, her drunken half brother and the heir to the pack, lifted his goblet of wine in mock salute. Lyra, his twin, purred loudly as the entire hall erupted into more laughter.

"You'll make such a perfect bride, dear sister." her words were smooth, but they had a hidden bite that only Aria could perceive.

Her chest tightened as she took a step backwards. This wasn't a celebration. This was a funeral – hers.

She kept on moving backwards, slow as a shadow. The attention of the party wolves drifted elsewhere, and when she was sure that she was unseen. She slipped towards the servant's door.

The moment the doors shut behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. Her heart pounded as she tightened her resolve and whispered.

Run. Now.

The servant's passageway was a massive labyrinth that she knew by heart. Twice, she was forced to duck past busy staff. She moved like a shadow, hugging the cold, narrow lined walls decorated with the images of her ancestors.

She spat at their painted faces.

Cursed! Stillblood! A disgrace!

They had all made her life a living hell.

As she reached the rear door, her fingers quickly ruffled through her cloak pockets until they clamped around hard, cold steel.

The longest key slid into the lock and she turned.

CLICK!

The door groaned open and the mountains of her clawhold breathed icy air into her lungs.

She took a step forward and her foot landed in the snow. She took another step, savoring the feeling of the wind on her face, before she broke into a grin and ran.

Thorns pierced through her soles, their sharp bristles tearing through her naked feet, large thick branches clawed at her arms, all trying to stop her, to hinder her in her quest for freedom.

Her muscles screamed, and her heart pounded within her chest.

Aria ignored them, she was not going to let a little pain stop her from getting what she had always wanted. Freedom.

She ran faster.

She was almost free.

She could almost taste it.

The moment she passed through the treeline that separated her Clawhold from the wilderness. She burst into laughter.

Then –

"Leaving so soon, Big Sis?"

Aria skidded to a stop, her breath stopped beating within her chest.

Her eyes narrowed and, with trembling hands, she turned around to face the tree lines.

From behind the trees, Lyra stepped out. The sharp soft rays of the moonlight showcased her beautiful angles. She was beautiful, deadly and full of venom. She had a sinister gleam in her eyes.

Aria took a step back.

Lyra smiled, her eyes taking in the fear in her half-sister's face.

"Oh my God. You almost made it." She chuckled, "You know we had a bet on if you were going to try to escape, right? And guess what? I won."

She laughed harder, her words cutting through Aria's confidence.

"I can't believe you actually thought we'd let you leave. Or did you?"

"No... no.. I wasn't." Aria lied, her words coming out in a stutter,

"I know you want freedom Aria," Lyra said, smirking. At an unnatural speed, she rushed forward.

She reached Aria and grabbed her by her hand. "But you don't deserve freedom, Aria. You don't deserve anything other than what we give you. You are cursed, Aria. Always remember that."

Aria shook her head, "Please, just let me-"

SMACK!

Aria did not see when her sister lifted her hand nor when she slapped her. One moment, she was standing in front of her sister, the next, she was flying through the air.

Her weak body smashed through trees as her sister backhanded her back through the treeline.

She lay there on the icy forest floor, too stunned and broken to move.

With slow steps, Lyra walked over to her half-sister. She bent down and smirked at her. "You are not a wolf," she spat, "You are a thing. Cursed, Useless. Broken. You are a charity case. Know your place and maybe you can live."

After saying that, she spat at her broken sister and walked away, her footsteps fading in the background as she left.

Aria didn't cry.

She couldn't.

Because deep within, some hidden part of her agreed with her half-sister.

She was nothing more than a girl with a dead mother and a cursed bloodline. A girl who could never shift, never fight, never live.

She was broken and she knew it.

She lay there on the snow, her eyes open and lifeless as she accepted her fate.

She was going to get sold off, whether she liked it or not.

The snow fell on her.

And it was cold, heavy and merciless.

Just like the world that caged her.

The world was quiet, too quiet.

Aria's eyes fluttered slightly. She had fallen unconscious after Lyra had left her there on the snowy plains. With a grunt, she opened her eyes and winced in pain.

She tried to sit up, but she fell, her eyes widened as she realized the reason why she could hardly feel any pain in her body. It had become numb.

She grunted and, with more force, pushed herself up, teeth chattering. Her body shivered as she allowed herself a reprieve to look around the forest.

Her mating ceremony was supposed to happen today. She knew that there was no excuse she could give that would stop her stepmother from killing her if she ended up being late to her own ceremony.

With a grunt, she took a deep breath and tried to stand up. A flash of pain passed through her body and she quickly fell down.

"No Aria." She muttered under her breath, "You need to get up, you need to – "

A large hand seized her shoulders and yanked her up, "Get up Stillblood." Ronan hissed, his icy tone cutting straight through Aria's heart, "Running away from the only duty you have ever been given is pathetic."

Aria scrunched her nose as she was dragged close to her brother. He smelled of sweat, smoke and alcohol.

Aria chose to keep silent. She knew how this would go if she refused to.

Ronan sneered at her, still grabbing her by her hair, he dragged her through the snow and back towards the servant's entrance. Back towards her nightmare.

"This is where you belong." He cursed as he opened the servant's door and tossed Aria in. "Make yourself presentable. We have breakfast in thirty minutes."

Thirty minutes later, still bruised and scarred. Aria dragged herself towards the dining hall. With her head down, she walked straight to her stepmother, Lilith, and knelt down.

"Well, well, well." Lilith chuckled, "Look who decides to grace us with her presence." She stretched out her hand and raised Aria's chin up, "Every single time, Ari, you prove that you are a disgrace to the family." She hissed.

Aria coughed, blood sputtering out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and forced herself not to cry. She had cried enough for a lifetime. She had decided that she was cursed, and she was going to take whatever punishment was given to her.

Lilith stood up and walked around Aria, checking out her bruised body. She nodded when she saw that Aria was not injured in any place that would be visible when she wore a dress.

"You should be glad that your little stunt did not ruin the arrangement."

"Arrangement?" Aria blinked,

"Your mating dear," Lilith answered with a smirk, "Or did you think we were going to stop the ceremony just because you went and injured yourself?"

The words hit Aria like a blow to the chest. "Please, No... please." She pleaded.

"Shut up," Lilith roared, "Do you think you matter? You are a Stillblood. You do not matter. The only reason you are still alive is because you have value in being a broodmare."

She stopped circling her stepdaughter and smiled down at her, "Your womb is the only reason you are alive."

"Who?" Aria replied with a sigh. She had accepted defeat. "Who is my mate?"

Even though Aria knew she was going to get sent off, her stepmother had always refused to tell her who she was going to get mated to.

A cruel smile curled across the lips of her stepmother, "The Crippled Vine himself. Lucien."

Aria blanched, the name cracking through her. "What?" She stuttered out, unable to stop her outburst.

Of course, she had heard of the Crippled Vine – everyone had.

Lucien Vine was the once mighty alpha of the Vine Clawhold. He was beaten in an ambush, mutilated, disgraced and crippled. A man so mighty that he had once been the envy of the entire world, was now one that people spat on when he walked past them.

He was more myth now – a crippled wolf with a shattered leg and an arrogant demeanor.

"Isn't it great?" Lilith smiled, her expression growing brighter as she saw the disbelief on Aria's face, "The Crippled and The Broken Wolf. You guys are practically made for each other."

Aria's stomach turned in disbelief.

She was wrong, her family was not marrying her off. They were discarding her. This was not a mating alliance, this was instead just two people regarded as trash by both Clawholds being forced to be together.

"You leave at dusk," Lilith muttered, her tone dangerously low, "And this time, try not to pull any other stunts. Lyra would not be as merciful if you tried that again."

And with that, her step-siblings and her stepmother walked out of the dining hall. Leaving a broken Aria on the ground.

Lyra sneered at her as she walked past, "You can eat the leftovers when you are done crying. We don't want our little bride fainting just because she is hungry now, do we?"

They all laughed at that remark, their eyes shining in mischief as they walked through the open doors.

Aria stayed sprawled on the ground, long after they had all left.

She was being given away by her own blood. She was cattle to them, disposable, useless, broken.

For the first time in her life, Aria did not hold back her tears.

She let them flow.

Because maybe Lyra was right.

Maybe she really was broken.

Lucien sat in silence, his eyes narrowed as he stared into the burning hearth in his room. His crippled and shattered leg throbbed in pain, forcing a silent wince as he shifted his weight.

Even after all these years, his werewolf blood - and all the remnants of his strength as an alpha - still tried to stitch his shattered leg back together.

He waited for the heat from the fire to reach him. To melt away the cold in his heart, but it didn't. It never did. He glanced down at his leg, the twisted vertical scars ran from his thigh to his calf.

His door barged open and Lucien snapped his gaze towards the door.

Anger flashed through his eyes at being interrupted, but he quickly stifled his emotions. He was not the man he once was.

"Why didn't you knock?" Lucien hissed, his sharp icy gaze directed at his once loyal subordinate and junior brother,

"Why would I?" Alder chuckled, smirking, "Get up, Lucien. Your bride has arrived," he ordered,

Lucien blinked, his eyes widening in surprise. He could not respond. He didn't need to. This wasn't his choice. This was a choice forced upon him by his own Clawhold, his brother – the new alpha had made sure of that.

"She's.... smaller than I expected." Alder remarked, "Though she is pretty for a Stillblood, maybe you would actually like her – that is if you like the broken ones."

He chuckled at his words, the clear disdain showing through his eyes as he looked down at his elder brother.

Lucien's jaws clenched, he turned his gaze away from his brother, away from the mocking jeer. "Just get it over with," he murmured.

With those words, he stood up to his full height, and with a throbbing mangled leg, took a step towards Alder.

Alder smiled, his gaze lingering on his brother's shattered leg before snapping back to the pained expression he could see on his brother's face. "Follow me Lucien." he ordered, "Let's get you presentable for your bride."

With a chuckle and a flourish, he turned around and walked out.

The "ceremony" was a complete joke. The Clawhold had been cleared out and the courtyard had been cleaned for the first time in years.

Snow fell down the mountainous ranges in small lazy flakes, painting the entire courtyard white. Which was in sharp contrast to the red roses that were littered around the courtyard.

His soon-to-be bride, Aria, was already standing there.

His eyes lingered across her features. Aria was dainty, she wasn't as small as her brother had said she was. But compared to his almost seven feet, she was small.

She had long wavy silver-blonde hair, eyes that were haunted and scars.

Wait, scars?

Lucien's eyes widened as his gaze lingered around her exposed flesh, her arms and wrists. There was makeup covering them, but he could see the scars, and he was sure every werewolf here could too.

She didn't look at him. Her gaze was down, as if she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.

Lucien limped forward, his fists clenched beside him as he temporarily suppressed the pain. He leaned heavily on the obsidian cane strapped to his right arm.

Every single step sent spikes of pain traveling through his body, every step a brutal reminder of how far he had fallen.

He held his chin high, his gaze wandering across the courtyard as he saw the members of his Clawhold and hers watching the ceremony with smirks on their faces.

He would not bow down, not to Adler, not to his Clawhold, and certainly not to this broken thing that they sent to contain him. Aria Thorne.

He took a deep breath and inhaled her scent. She did not smell of fear or anticipation, she smelled of resignation.

"Let's make this quick." He growled as he reached his bride and stood beside her.

Aria flinched at his voice, he noticed it. Of course, he did, but he didn't care.

Why would he? She was more broken than he ever was. She was Stillblood.

She did not say a word, only nodded and shuffled on her feet.

The officiant of the ceremony was a half-drunk elder who stumbled as he walked towards them.

Lucien clenched his fists and averted his gaze. This was obviously a farce. Neither the elder nor his Clawhold cared about the wedding. To them, this was just the joining together of two broken things.

"Lucien." The elder coughed, his eyes red as his gaze darted towards Lucien's shattered right leg. "Do you accept this St... sorry." The elder quickly apologized for his drunken slip up, "This 'woman' -" his disdainful gaze darted towards Aria as he said that, "- as your mate?"

"I, Lucien Vine, once alpha of this great Clawhold, take this.... Woman." He started his vow, his pause deliberate as he glanced at Aria, "To be the Luna of my house. I vow no love, no care. Just duty and nothing else."

Aria blinked, her lips parting as she stood shocked by his vow. She gulped and chose to keep silent.

The half-drunk elder turned towards her, his gaze lingering on her body for a moment before snapping towards her face.

"And you, Aria Thorne?" he drawled, his speech coming out slurred, "Do you accept – "

"I do." Aria replied quickly. Too quickly.

Lucien snorted, the disdain in his eyes deepening as he turned around to face her. "Too eager to belong, are you?" He asked, "You'll never belong."

Aria's gaze snapped towards him. A spark flickered across her eyes, but it quickly died down. Her sharp gaze noticing her step-brother already taking a step towards her. She knew that if she did or said anything else, this would probably be her last day alive.

In moments, the rings were exchanged. The vows between the two parties were shared.

And the kiss.... Of course, it didn't happen.

The elder didn't even bring it up.

Who in their right mind would want to kiss a Stillblood.

And just like that, Aria Thorne was now his.

She was property now. Nothing else. Not even cattle or even a lowly human. Just a broodmare.

Once the ceremony was over, Lucien turned around without another word. He limped away, the tip of his obsidian cane striking the courtyard in a sharp audible thud.

Behind him, Aria froze in place. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now.

Should she follow him? Where would she stay? How would she live?

All those questions flashed through her mind as she watched her new 'master' limp away.

"Go on Ari." Lyra's sharp voice echoed from behind her, "Follow your mate, you have to consummate the mating, right? Or are you too broken to do that too?"

At those words, the silent crowd who had been watching the ceremony without a sound erupted into laughter. The disdain in their gaze was so piercing that Aria flinched.

Without a word, she took a deep breath and rushed towards her Lucien.

The laughter increased behind her. Before she even reached Lucien, she could tell that the others had already started partying.

Lucien glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, his brows furrowing as he turned his gaze straight.

Aria frowned as she followed Lucien towards an unknown destination and into a new life that would be no less as hard as her previous life.

Her life was not hers anymore.

She had left one prison only to be locked up in another.

The chains were gone, the collars were invisible. But they were still there, still ever present. Still binding.

And Lucien?

Lucien did not see a mate when he looked at Aria.

He saw a broken burden.

And as far as he was concerned, she was far more crippled than he was.