Everyone in the pack knew that a simple treat could get me, the simple-minded princess, to do anything.

The graceful and refined Lycan Prince Tomas Young once handed me a pastry, and I clung to him for years after. Though he never showed it, in private, he despised me, calling me shameless, accusing me of throwing myself at him. I didn’t understand what shamelessness or throwing oneself at someone meant. All I knew was that Tomas gave me good food, so he was a good person, and I liked him. I wanted to repay his kindness.

Then came the news of the pack’s defeat in the borderlands. My father’s most beloved daughter, my third sister, was to be sent off for a political alliance through a mate bond.

Her mother, the Lycan Queen, came to me personally, bringing a box of pastries, begging me to take my sister’s place.

I wiped the crumbs from my mouth and waved my hand casually. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty. It’s just a mate bond. If my sister doesn’t want to go, I’ll do it for her.”

---

When I was stopped at the entrance of the Lycan King’s chambers, I realized I’d agreed too easily.

My father, the Lycan King, seemed to have completely forgotten he even had a daughter like me. The guards at his chambers naturally refused to let me through.

But the Queen had given me an entire box of pastries! If I couldn’t get this done, wouldn’t that mean I’d eaten her food for nothing?

I scratched my head, then had a sudden idea. I turned and shouted toward the chambers:

“Father! Father! It’s Rosa! Please open the door!”

The guards growled, “How dare you! This is the Lycan King’s chambers! How can a little girl like you be so insolent!”

They raised their claws and came at me.

I bolted, running circles around the chambers, shouting as I went:

“Father! Father! It’s Rosa! Rosa needs to talk to you!”

“Who’s making all this noise!?”

The door to the chambers suddenly swung open, and a group of people stepped out.

The Queen had told me earlier that the Lycan King wore a leather jacket with a silver wolf emblem.

I spotted him immediately, waving and panting:

“Father, please tell them to stop chasing me. Rosa’s going to collapse!”

The Lycan King waved his hand, and the guards backed off. He frowned at me.

“You’re Rosa? Which Rosa?”

I dropped to my knees, bowing my head, and answered brightly:

“Rosa lives in the east wing of the pack house. My mother is Luna Lana.”

“Which Luna Lana?”

An old Beta nearby whispered hurriedly, “She was the maid who served the former Lycan Queen. She displeased you on her first night and was never summoned again. Later, she gave birth to Princess Rosa, but you forgot to name her.”

A low-ranking Omega from the Western Wing of the Moonstone Pack once told me that my mother had been a mere Omega in the Solaris Pack.

The Lycan Queen, my stepmother, had fallen ill, and the Lycan King—my father—had chosen my mother at random to serve him that night. My mother, who had only a year left before she could leave the pack and reunite with her chosen mate, a guard stationed within the pack grounds, was devastated. They had been deeply in love, their hearts intertwined, planning to mark each other as soon as she was free.

She begged the King to spare her, but her pleas only enraged him. He took her by force, then carelessly granted her the title of Luna of the Moonstone Pack—a title that meant little more than banishment to a forgotten corner of the pack territory. Even after she carried me for ten moons and gave birth to me, he never once visited. He didn’t even bother to give me a name.

To this day, I doubt he remembers which Luna I belong to or that I’m his sixteenth daughter. Yet, when I entered his study that day, he greeted me with a warm smile, as though I were his most cherished child.

“Rosa,” he said, his voice light, “what brings you here?”

“I want to mark my mate!” I declared, looking up at him with a matching smile. “I’m old enough now!”

The somber atmosphere of the study erupted into laughter. My father helped me to my feet, ruffling my hair affectionately, as though I were his pride and joy.

“And who does my little Rosa want to mark?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Shall I arrange it for you?”

The Beta, an elderly werewolf with a sharp tongue, chimed in, “I’ve heard that Princess Rosa has been quite close to Beta Tomas Young.”

My father raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Is that so, Rosa? Do you fancy Beta Tomas?”

In the crowd, Tomas Young’s expression darkened. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze burned into me, filled with tension. He was terrified I’d say yes.

I’ve always known Tomas didn’t care for me, not in that way. He was kind, yes, and our paths had crossed because he’d once helped me. One harsh winter, he’d found me on my hands and knees, being forced to crawl like a dog by some cruel Omegas in exchange for a bit of food. He’d chased them off, furious, and left me all the silver he had on him.

I knew who he was—the Beta who taught the Lycan Prince and Princess, often visiting the pack grounds to guide them. I’d heard him speak many times, sneaking through a hidden passage to listen to his lessons near the training grounds. He was brilliant, but I was too dim to understand most of what he said. The only thing I remembered was a line from a poem: “Life is but a fleeting dream, seasons pass in sorrow’s stream.”

Afraid I’d forget it, I wrote it on the inside of my warmest cloak, turning it over often to read it. I’d wanted to ask him what it meant, but soon after, his attitude toward me changed. He stopped bringing me gifts, stopped acknowledging me altogether.

It happened at a pack gathering. Some rogue werewolves had mistaken me for a lowly Omega in the forest. They’d offered me a plate of sweets in exchange for reciting some vulgar verses, and one had even asked if I’d like to be his chosen mate, promising me warmth and food in return.

I didn’t know what being a chosen mate entailed, but warmth and food were all I’d ever dreamed of. My eyes lit up, and I eagerly asked when he’d take me away.

Tomas must have seen it. He dragged me away, his grip so tight it felt like he’d crush my bones. When I struggled, he flung me aside, his voice laced with disgust.

“You’re a Lycan Princess!” he barked. “How can you debase yourself so easily, clinging to any male who offers you a crumb of attention? Have you no pride?”

“A Lycan Princess should look to the Lycan Princess as an example—strong, unyielding, equal to any male!”

I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face, unsure of what I’d done wrong. To me, there was nothing shameful in what I’d done. My mother had survived that way, and after her death, I’d done the same. To me, it was a means of survival.

But Tomas’s outburst made me realize, for the first time, that perhaps it was wrong. I didn’t know how to respond, so I just stood there, wiping my tears. He stared at me, disappointment etched into his features, then turned and walked away without another word.

After that, he never brought me anything again. I returned to my life in the Moonstone Pack, still scraping by, still enduring the taunts and jeers of the Omegas. A scrap of meat from the Omega’s feeding bowl was still enough to make my day.