Chapter 001

EVELYN'S POV

Declaring my fate, my father stepped on the elevated platform and had his voice blasting throughout the packed assembly. I gasped hard, waiting for the words I already knew to arrive.

My daughter Isla Bennett will rightfully occupy Alpha of the Crimson Moon Clan starting today! He paraded Isla in front of our people; his hand shot up, and he grabbed her wrist.

The hall went deafeningly in cheers. Every eye shimmered with respect for her—the ideal heir, the strong one, the deserving one.

Wearing shadows, I sat in the farthest corner. Number. Not remembered. Unseen.

However, today was anything but an ordinary day. It is my nineteenth birthday today. It's not as if anyone took the occasion seriously. My father never remembered. Nobody had ever had. From the moment I was old enough to understand words, I learnt that the weak received little care.

Small and weak, I had been born; my mother was dying as she delivered me into this life. A curse, they murmured. a call to memory of her demise. When I was fourteen, my wolf had roused, but she never responded to my calls or spoke. I felt hollow. Broken.

Isla had changed at twelve, a stunning white wolf exuding power and dignity. That was the moment my father stopped looking at me entirely.

Someone nearby said, "Isla is gorgeous tonight."

She will make a fantastic Alpha. This sets her apart from her sibling, as someone else pointed out. Evelyn's only burden is this one. Can you believe she is nineteen and still hasn't changed?

Their comments cut, sharp as knives, but I’d learnt to withstand. Stepping back, I pushed myself into the black, trying to vanish totally. Bathed in golden light, Isla stood in the middle and wore a crystal crown sparkling on her skull. She was every inch the ideal daughter should have.

I turned away and grabbed a glass of wine. My stepmother, Clara Matthews, grinned at me from across the room. Her smile was deliberate and sadistic, driven by her knowledge.

Her mouth formed the silent word, Loser.

Let her dream what she wished. There is nothing left for her to grab. No. That's untrue.

I had him still.

My gaze strayed towards Edward Grant, seated at the hall's edge. Even among jubilation, his presence was dominant. He was the most powerful Guardian in our clan's history. He is the man I hold in the highest regard. He was the man I held dear.

He fixed me, his face softening and warmth flaring in his eyes. My heartbeat got faster. I could stand anything as long as he was at my side.

A stinging pain of hunger turned over my stomach, reminding me of how little I had eaten. Perhaps I could take a moment to eat something and celebrate by myself. Perhaps I could enjoy a piece of cake here.

As I scanned the dinner tables, my heart soared to see a rare blackberry tart. Isla hated the taste; hence, nobody would fight for it. But a strong elbow was shoved against my wrist as I reached for it.

Acute agony tore across my arm. My bandaged cut came free. Warm blood came through the cloth.

"Pathetic," the girl snorted, flinging her green hair over her shoulder. "That wasn't even tough," she added with a smirk.

She grabbed the tart and turned to go without another look.

I gasped suddenly and held a quivering hand to my wrist. Black, bless the gods; my blood spilt into my clothing. Nobody would be able to see. Not everyone knew.

I survived only because of that blood.

Isla had undergone years of personal blood banking. Her weak heart might be healed with my blood, which was special. My special blood was the only thing they appreciated about me.

Driven to save this occasion, I swallowed my wrath and reached for another dessert. But before I could bite, a powerful cry broke the silence.

"Imp Possible!" Isla's voice cut sharply and high through the hall. "How can my mate be... a rogue?"

Gasps swept through the crowd. I turned, my eyes widening to see the man facing her.

Known him.

Topaz has eyes. A face sculpted from icy, merciless stone. Even in stillness, the presence of this face drew attention.

He was the rebel I had saved two months before.

My breath stopped when his eye turned to me. His eyes glowed with recognition. My pulse flickered.

Isla's look turned from one of contempt. “I refuse to accept this!”

The rogue said nothing. He simply gazed, his enigmatic eyes lingering on me before going back to Isla.

The party ended in a tangle of whispers and anxious murmurs. Knowing exactly what would happen next, I slipped away and went back to the apartment. Isla never managed disappointment very effectively.

Edward would visit? Would he keep in mind my birthday? Through everything, hope fluttered in my chest.

Then a keen knock broke through my ideas.

Heart thumping, I leapt. I hurried to the door, only to find him absent.

The maid cast a blank stare at me. "The Alpha has requested your assistance with his research." Today.

My gut turned. I gulped hard and nodded, hurriedly changing before making my way down.

My father sat behind his desk in the research, Isla and Clara lying smugly on the couches. Isla grinned the instant I walked in.

I felt dread twisted in my stomach.

"Did you have anything in mind?" Though my fists tightened at my sides, my voice was firm.

Father radiated the same overwhelming force he always possessed. He slicked back his silver hair, his sharp eyes assessing me as if I were just another tool.

"I am here to assign you a duty.

My heartbeat got faster. "What work?"

He stayed still. Your fragrances are almost exactly the same since you have given your sister years of blood transfusions. Isla is our next Alpha, as you are aware. Her mate cannot be a renegade.

I became stiff.

His message hit me, and my stomach turned over.

"Exchange sits with Isla."

My heart knocked against my ribs. The room's air became unbearably stifling.

He was unable to be sincere.

My father's focus was relentless. Isla’s sneer grew. Folding her arms, Clara waited for me to follow her as usual.

I said, my voice just audible, "Edward is my mate."

The look of my father stayed the same. "Not anymore."

Every bit inside of me broke.

"Do you get it?" His voice was firm. Eventually.

I opened my mouth, a million protests wriggling to be released.

Still, the words would not flow.

I already knew the answer.

I had no decision.