In the vision the Moon Goddess showed me, I was a creature of absolute submission, an Omega servant living only to serve the Blackwood Pack.

When Alpha Kael's wolf core was shattered by silver weapons while fighting dangerous Rogues for his favored girl, they demanded a miracle.

I let them bind me to a cold silver table and carve into my chest, extracting my rare White Wolf blood and half my core just to save him.

I gave him my life and my future.

But the moment he recovered, he cast me aside like garbage.

While he paraded around healthy and strong with his future Luna, I was left to rot in a damp basement room.

I suffered from agonizing chronic pain, lost my ability to shift, and ultimately died a slow, lonely death.

He didn't even look at me once.

Until my dying breath, I couldn't understand.

I had sacrificed everything for him. I was the only reason he was still breathing.

Why did my absolute devotion only earn me coldness, neglect, and an early grave?

I woke from the dream still nineteen, standing right where the nightmare began.

The Moon Goddess had shown me my fate—so I could refuse it.

This time, when the Luna demanded my blood to save her precious dying son, I looked her dead in the eye.

"Kael can wait. I will not consent to a core extraction."

In this life, I am choosing myself.

Chapter 1

Elara POV:

Blackwood Manor's stone steps leeched a deep chill through my thin cotton skirt. The crunch of a red apple was a sharp report in the quiet of the afternoon. Within this nineteen-year-old frame, a phantom ache still echoed—the ghost of air whistling through a punctured lung. The sweet juice that filled my mouth was a stark contrast to the bitter taste of death I had tasted in the vision.

I was still nineteen.

Three nights ago, the Moon Goddess had sent me a dream so vivid it left my sheets soaked in cold sweat—a vision of my own slow, lonely death. It was not merely a nightmare; it was a warning, a prophecy that tasted more real than the apple on my tongue.

In that vision, I was a creature of submission.

In this manor, an Alpha's boot heel was made for an Omega's spine, a truth I once accepted as the only law of breathing. The only exception was the Royal Academy of Runes, a neutral ground protected by the Crown, where talent trumped bloodline—and I knew my unique affinity for ancient symbols was my only ticket out.

In that vision, I believed that if I sacrificed everything for Alpha Kael, he might bestow upon me a sliver of kindness.

I had let them bind me to a silver table.

I had let them carve into my flesh to extract my rare White Wolf blood and half of my wolf core to save his life.

The White Wolf is a legend, a rare bloodline gifted by the Moon Goddess herself, capable of mending any wound.

I had seen myself give him my life; in return, he gave me coldness, neglect, and a lonely death.

A guttural roar tore me from my reverie.

I looked up. Across the courtyard, Alpha Kael stood, his muscles writhing under his skin. The sickening crack of bone splitting air announced the Change. Dark fur erupted from his flesh, and in seconds, a massive black wolf stood in his place. He let out a furious howl and charged toward the iron gates, disappearing into the gloaming of the forest.

He was off to fight a pack of dangerous Rogues for Selene, the girl he favored.

In my dream, this was the exact moment he had sprinted toward his ruin—toward claws dripping with a toxin no healer could cure.

I took another bite of my apple.

I chewed with deliberate slowness, my eyes deadened things watching his retreating form.

The heavy oak doors behind me groaned open.

The current Luna, Kael's mother, swept out onto the porch, the rustle of her expensive silks a frantic sound against the stone.

"Elara!" she shrieked, her voice thin with panic. "Why did you not stop him? Selene's family is out there, and those Rogues have venom in their claws that no wolf can survive!"

Venom that could shatter a wolf's core beyond any ordinary repair.

I swallowed the pulp in my mouth and looked up at her.

"I did not stop him because I could not," I said simply.

"You knew he was walking into a deathtrap!" she cried, her scent souring with fear.

"I am but an Omega, Luna," I replied, the words forming without tremor. "A servant's daughter. I possess neither the right nor the power to defy an Alpha's will."

The Luna stared at me as if I had sprouted a second head. She was accustomed to my begging, my crying, my willingness to throw myself before Kael as a shield.

Not today. Not after the Moon Goddess had shown me exactly where that path led.

"If your concern is so great, Luna," I said, rising and brushing the dust from my simple cotton skirt, "I suggest you ring the Pack Bell. Summon the Warriors."

The muscles in my thighs tensed with a conditioned urge to kneel, a relic of a lifetime of submission. I bit the inside of my cheek until a coppery tang filled my mouth, forcing the stiff column of my neck to turn. The hem of my skirt brushed against the rough-hewn stone as I left her shrill cry to dissipate in the air behind me.

I walked straight to the hallway and stopped before a large, antique brass mirror.

I lifted the edge of my shirt and looked at my waist.

The skin was flawless.

There was no ugly, jagged scar from the sacrificial ritual.

My wolf core was whole, and my hidden White Wolf blood was safe in my veins.

I made a vow to the girl in the mirror.

No one will ever carve into my chest again. Not for love. Not for duty. Not for an Alpha who will not even look at my corpse.

I descended the narrow, dark stairs to the basement kitchen.

The warm air was thick with the scent of roasted meat and heavy spice.

My mother, Martha, was stirring a large iron pot over the fire. She was an Omega servant, having toiled in this manor for fifteen years.

"Elara," my mother said, wiping her brow with a cloth. "I heard shouting. Is the young Alpha alright?"

"He has gone to the forest," I said, taking a wooden spoon from the counter.

I moved to the chopping board and began slicing carrots for the venison stew.

"Do not trouble yourself over him, Mother. Let us finish the dinner."

My mother looked at me, her eyes clouded with worry, but she nodded and returned to her pot.

We worked in silence.

Through the small, grimy basement window, I heard the deep, resonant toll of the Pack Bell. It was followed by the aggressive howls of the Pack Warriors gathering for the hunt.

My pulse did not quicken. My hands did not tremble.

I sat with my mother at the small wooden table in the corner of the kitchen.

We ate our simple bowls of stew in peace.

That night, I climbed to my small attic room.

I wrapped myself in my thin blanket and closed my eyes.

Around midnight, a great commotion roused the entire manor.

I heard the heavy tread of the Healers' boots rushing down the halls. I smelled the sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood, mingled with the foul, acrid scent of venom burning through flesh.

Alpha Kael had been brought back.

His wolf core had been fractured by a venom no ordinary means could heal.

I turned over in my bed, pulled the blanket to my chin, and sank into the most profound sleep I had ever known.

The Moon Goddess had shown me the price of sacrifice. In three days, they would ask me to pay it. This time, my answer was already waiting.

Elara POV:

Three days passed.

The Blackwood Pack was a hive of frantic, directionless energy. Kael lay in a deep coma in the Healers' ward.

I walked down the long, stone corridor of the ward, carrying a wooden tray. The air was heavy with the smell of bitter herbs and the sour scent of anxious wolves.

I saw Selene standing outside Kael's heavy oak door. She was wearing a pure white dress, posturing as a fragile flower. Selene claimed to be a gentle Beta, but I could always smell the stale, grimy scent of a Rogue hidden beneath her cheap rose perfume. She needed me laid out on that cold table, my chest carved open once more, not just to save Kael, but to keep his attention from her own family's treacherous dealings.

When she saw me, her eyes welled with practiced tears.

"Elara," she whispered, stepping into my path. She reached for my sleeve, but I took a half-step back, letting her fingers grasp at empty air.

"He is dying, Elara," Selene said, her voice trembling. "The Healers say only a miracle can save him now. They've tested dozens of wolves, but no one's blood is compatible enough to neutralize the venom."

She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. She was guiding me, prompting me to volunteer my rare White Wolf blood, just as she had in my dream. She wanted me to be the hero who sacrificed everything, so she could reap the rewards of a healthy Alpha.

"And then what?" I asked, my throat producing no echo of feeling. The words left my mouth like chips of dry ice, devoid of all warmth.

Selene blinked, confused by my response.

"What do you mean? You would save him! You love him, do you not?" she pressed.

"If he requires a miracle, go and pray," I said. My gaze traveled from the hem of her dress to her carefully arranged hair with undisguised disdain. "You are his future mate, are you not? Your prayers should carry more weight than an Omega's."

Selene's face went slack. She opened her mouth to speak, but I gave her no opportunity.

I walked past her, leaving her a solitary white figure in the cold hallway.

In my dream, her tears had worked. I had felt noble when I volunteered. Noble, and utterly doomed.

Before my hand could touch the door to the ward, Kael's father, the current Alpha, emerged into the corridor, his large frame blocking my path. He looked exhausted, his broad shoulders slumped.

I placed the tray of hot herb soup on a small nearby table.

"Alpha," I said, inclining my head in a traditional greeting.

He turned to look at me. His eyes were dark and desperate.

"Elara," he said, his voice heavy. "The Healers have tested everyone in the Pack. No one's blood can counter the venom destroying his core."

He took a step toward me. The air in the chamber grew dense, a palpable weight that pressed upon my lungs as if a great stone were laid upon my breast.

This was the Alpha's Command, a power that forces lesser wolves to submit.

"You grew up with him," the Alpha continued, his voice resonating with that compelling power. "I need you to allow the Healers to test you. I need you to give him your blood."

In my dream, this pressure had buckled my knees. I had wept and consented, and they had taken far more than blood.

But now, the dormant White Wolf blood inside me stirred. A warm current spread through my veins, pushing back against the Alpha's heavy aura. I also knew my rights.

I stood straight, my eyes fixed on the crest embroidered on his chest, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I apologize, Alpha," I said clearly. "But the mid-term examinations for the Royal Academy of Runes are next week."

I kept my voice perfectly polite, yet firm. "As a registered student under the Crown's treaty, I am exempt from forced Pack medical procedures. I will not consent to any core extraction."

The Alpha stared at me, utterly stunned by my refusal.

Before the shock could recede from his features, before he could muster another command, I pivoted on my heel. My worn leather shoes made no sound on the polished stone as I retreated down the corridor, leaving his stunned silence to be swallowed by the ward's sterile quiet.

I hurried back to the basement kitchen.

My mother was waiting for me. She looked at my face and knew.

"Did they ask you?" she whispered, her hands trembling as she wrung a dishcloth.

I walked to her and crouched by her chair.

I took her rough, warm hands in mine.

"Mother," I said, looking deeply into her eyes. "I will never give them my blood. I will never let them break my core."

Martha gasped, tears filling her eyes. She was an Omega. Fear of the Alpha class was carved into her very bones.

But as she looked at me, a fierce, protective light ignited in her eyes. A mother's love was stronger than Pack law.

"Good," she whispered fiercely, squeezing my hands. "You protect yourself, Elara. Do you hear me?"

"I will," I promised. "Our service contract ends at the Winter Festival. We are going to leave this manor."

I stood and kissed her forehead.

I went up to my attic room and sat at my small wooden desk. I opened an old, heavy book filled with ancient magical runes. The strange symbols seemed to glow faintly in the candlelight.

I picked up my quill.

I was going to earn a perfect score.

I was going to write my own fate.

And no Alpha, no Luna, no weeping girl in white would take that from me.

Elara POV:

A week passed in a blur of ink and parchment. Alpha Kael remained in his coma.

I, on the other hand, had accomplished three things.

First, I completed my mid-term examinations at the academy, ranking third in my entire class.

Second, I accepted a well-paid commission to translate a set of ancient Elven scrolls.

Third, I found a small, red-brick house for rent in the town near the academy.

I was sitting in the academy's grand library, surrounded by towering shelves. I was carefully transcribing the translation of a complex rune when a sharp pain lanced through my temples.

Elara! Where are you? Return to the manor immediately!

It was the Luna's voice, echoing inside my head. This was the Mind-Link, the telepathic network of the Pack. Normally, an Omega cannot block a Luna's connection.

But my mind was no longer a weak and pliant thing.

I drew my consciousness downward, imagining the severing of countless muddied synapses until all that remained in my mind was the dry rustle of parchment.

Busy.

I sent back the single word, then violently severed the connection. The silence in my head was a beautiful thing.

She would be furious. Let her be. In my dream, I had answered every summons like a trained dog, and it had earned me nothing but an early grave.

That evening, I returned to Blackwood Manor.

The moment I stepped into the grand hall, I knew it was a trap. The long oak dining table was lit by dozens of silver candelabras. The Luna sat at the head of the table, her face a mask of cold fury.

"Sit down, Elara," she commanded, pointing to a chair opposite her.

I did not move. I stood near the door, maintaining my distance.

"I prefer to stand, Luna. What is it you require?" I asked.

Luna's eyes narrowed. "The Healers have confirmed that your blood type is a rare match," she said, dispensing with all pleasantries. "We need half of your wolf core to neutralize the venom destroying Kael's."

"I am unwilling," I said. The words left my mouth before she had even finished her sentence. They were sharp, swift, and absolute.

Luna slammed her hands on the table, making the silver cutlery jump.

"How dare you!" she screamed. "Do you know what will happen to him if he does not receive a core?"

"I know precisely what becomes of an Omega who surrenders half her core," I replied, my voice as unadorned as the stone walls around us. "Chronic pain. The loss of the shift. A life cut short. The Moon Goddess showed me exactly what you are asking me to accept. You ask that I die a slow death so your son may live in comfort."

I looked at her without a flicker of pity.

"Kael can wait. When a Pack Warrior dies honorably in battle, their core can be transplanted to sustain him."

It would not restore him fully—only White Wolf blood could truly cleanse the venom and make him whole—but it would keep him alive. Let him settle for survival, just as he would have settled me with a lifetime of pain.

"You ungrateful creature!" Luna shrieked, her face purpling. "This manor has fed you! We have given you and your mother shelter for fifteen years! This is how you repay our grace?"

I let out a short, dry laugh.

"Grace?" I repeated, the word tasting like dirt. "My mother works sixteen hours a day, scrubbing your stone floors until her knees bleed." I pointed a finger at the gleaming floor beneath my feet. "She cooks your meals and washes your clothes for a few copper coins and a damp room in the basement."

I looked directly into the Luna's furious eyes.

"You purchased cheap labor, Luna. You did not purchase my life. And under the Academy's charter, you cannot touch me without the Crown's approval. There is no grace here."

I turned and walked up the stairs, ignoring the stream of vitriol she hurled at my back.

The Luna's shouts faded behind me. She did not know it yet, but she had already lost. The dream had freed me from the chains she still believed were wrapped around my throat.

Late that night, my mother came up to my attic. She looked terrified.

"I have the money from my translations," I told her, showing her a small leather pouch heavy with gold coins. "We are moving out. Soon."

Martha looked at the gold, then at me, and finally nodded, her expression firm and brave.

The next morning, I walked out of the heavy iron gates of the manor to head to the academy. Selene was waiting for me by the stone pillars. The morning wind was freezing, whipping her thin cloak about her.

"You are a monster, Elara," Selene spat, her eyes full of venom. "You are watching him die and doing nothing."

I stopped and looked at her. Several Pack members were walking by, heading to the morning market.

I made certain my voice was loud enough to carry on the wind.

"I did not tell him to run into the forest," I said clearly. "You knew your brother owed money to Rogues. You knew those Rogues carried venom no healer could cure."

Selene's eyes widened in panic as the passing wolves slowed their steps to listen.

"You wept to Kael and manipulated his Alpha pride," I continued, my voice cutting through the cold air like a shard of glass. "You sent him to his death because you wanted a free bodyguard to clean up your family's squalid affairs."

"Be silent!" Selene hissed, looking around nervously.

"You caused his broken core, Selene. Not I," I said. I pulled my warm wool cloak tighter around my shoulders.

I left her standing in the freezing wind, enveloped by the suspicious whispers of the Pack.

Let them whisper. Let them wonder. The truth was a weapon I had never wielded in my dream, and now it cut deeper than any claw.