5

I follow Fenrir’s footsteps, my eyes drawn to the light ahead. The moment we step out of the ancient stone cave, a chill runs down my spine. Before me lies an ocean of wolves, their eyes trained on me.

The moment I step out into the clearing, the whispers start. The pack is alive with murmurs, all of them focused on the mark at my neck. It’s small, but the scent of Alpha Fenrir’s bite is unmistakable. They can smell it. They can feel it. The acceptance of the ancestors, the bond between me and their Alpha, all of it is in that bite.

And as realization spreads through the crowd, the wolves begin to cheer. But even as their howls of approval fill the air, I know their respect isn’t truly for me. I’ve heard Nora’s words all too clearly—respect in this pack is earned, not given. The pack’s faith in me isn’t mine to claim. It’s a formality, a duty, not affection.

I follow Fenrir, my feet dragging beneath me as I walk through the woods, a lost stray, cast out from everything I once knew. Each step feels heavier than the last, and I feel more like an outsider than ever before. We arrive at a large clearing, and I see the wolves busy with final touches to a seating area raised above the ground. I don’t have to ask to know what it is.

This is the ‘spot.’

This is where Fenrir and I will complete the ritual. The mating.

I know the day is far from over. I’m supposed to eat, drink, and somehow try to bond with the pack before the night falls. But none of it matters. None of it changes anything. The pack’s opinion of me is irrelevant.

I know I’m not likable. I’ve never been lovable. Even my parents hated me. I was always the odd one, the special one—special in the worst way possible, the one that no one ever truly cared about.

"Sit."

Fenrir gestures toward a small stage. He sits, and I follow him, joining him at his side. Facing the pack, I feel my heart race. The wolves before me, watching with intent, are powerful. Every single one of them could tear me apart if given the chance. They are loyal to their Alpha, and I am nothing but a foreign presence in their world.

As I sit next to Fenrir, a strange warmth surges through my chest, an uneasy feeling building as I realize the sheer size of the pack. The wolves watching me, waiting for me to prove my worth. I wish I could run, escape this suffocating reality, but I know it’s futile.

Before I can gather my thoughts, the crowd suddenly stirs.

“Hi! I’m Liza. Can I say how gorgeous you are?” A middle-aged woman blurts out, her tone bubbly and cheerful. She has a sheepish smile, her cheeks a soft pink, and there’s a distinct scent of freshly baked cakes clinging to her.

I blink, surprised by the sudden attention. It feels strange, as if I’m being examined under a microscope.

"Thank you," I reply softly, a polite smile tugging at my lips. "I like your hair, too."

My words are kind, but they are as empty as I feel. My smile is as practiced as any I’ve ever given. I’m good at smiling, pretending, but inside, I want to curl into myself and disappear.

Facades aren’t new to me. Growing up, I was forced to smile through the pain, through the confusion, through the fear. Even when all I wanted to do was cry, I had to push those tears down and hide behind a mask. Now, nothing’s changed. Not really.

Fenrir’s gaze softens for a brief moment as I meet his eyes, but the weight of his presence doesn’t ease. His lips curl into something that almost looks like approval, but there’s no time to dwell on it. His fingers gently brush over my skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, as if his touch can unravel every thread of uncertainty that’s held me together until now.

The evening air, once cool and comforting, now feels like it’s thick with anticipation. Every heartbeat echoes in my chest, every breath feels too loud, too sharp. The mark he gave me pulses, a constant reminder of the irreversible choice I’ve made. But I still stand tall, despite the overwhelming emotions swarming within me.

"Are you sure?" Fenrir’s voice is quieter now, more tender, as if waiting for me to question myself. But I don’t. Not this time.

I nod, the words rising in my chest like a flame that refuses to be extinguished. "Yes. Mark me, Alpha Fenrir."

His gaze sharpens at my words, the quiet intensity in his eyes flickering like the last light of the setting sun. He steps closer, and his fingers trail over the bite mark on my neck, sending shivers through me. There’s a rawness to his touch now, a possessiveness that neither of us can deny.

Without another word, Fenrir leans in, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck. The heat intensifies, the pressure of his body a constant presence, his breath shallow against my ear. The world around us fades as he pulls me into the moment, the last traces of daylight sinking behind the horizon.

And then, as the final moments of the sun slip away, the mark he left upon me burns with a fierce intensity. His bite—gentle, but commanding—finds its place once again. This time, there’s no hesitation. No pain. Just a strange, overwhelming connection, deep and primal, binding us together.

My body trembles, not from fear, but from something else. Something I’m not sure I fully understand yet. But it’s there, and it’s real.

"You are mine now, Katerina." Fenrir’s voice is low and possessive, a whisper against my skin as his mark deepens.

The world around us is silent now, the sounds of the forest and river fading into the background. It’s just the two of us, standing at the edge of everything I once knew. The boundaries have shifted, and I’m no longer the same person I was when I walked into this place. I may not fully understand the gravity of it yet, but I know this is the beginning of something that cannot be undone.

And for the first time, I don’t feel quite as lost.