SOMA

I'm starving.

My vision sways as I begin the long trek to the palace, and my stomach tightens from the pangs of hunger. I returned home late yesterday, which meant no food for me. And now, I'm headed to the palace to assist the maids with the decorations for tomorrow's ceremony.

Sheila promised Princess Sienna that I would be there. She didn't even ask me before making that decision. Not like I could have refused, but it would have been nice to have a day to myself. I know Sheila is doing this to curry favor with Sienna. Sienna is the Alpha Princess, and my cousins are among the fortunate few who run in her circle.

As I draw nearer to the palace, I notice a stream of girls my age and even younger moving in the same direction. Their laughter trails behind them as they chatter excitedly.

They must be going to the Luna selection rehearsals. Sheila and Maeve were glowing with anticipation when they left earlier. No one wants to miss the chance of being chosen as our next Luna.

My legs ache with each step. I slow down and lower my gaze, suddenly conscious of how I look beside the other girls. The wind tugs at my curls, whipping them into my eyes, and I gather them into a messy bun with trembling fingers.

A sharp grumble comes from my stomach again. For my sake, I hope the maids will be fed after working. I turn the corner leading to the palace gates, but someone darts across my path without looking, their elbow jamming into my side.

The impact throws me off balance. I stumble backward, feet slipping on the wet stone. A gasp shoots out of my throat, and my eyes squeeze shut as I brace for the fall. But a strong pair of arms curls around my waist, pulling me against something solid before I can hit the ground.

"Whoa," a familiar voice says. "Easy there, Pup-pup."

My gaze snaps up, and I'm staring into the blue eyes of my best friend.

"Mason," I breathe, my cheeks growing warm at the sight of him. His brows draw together as he takes in my shivering frame, and I jerk out of his embrace. "Thanks."

He winks. "You're welcome."

Mason is the only werewolf in Shadowspire who doesn't dismiss me. We've been friends since we were kids. For as long as I can remember, he's always been in my corner. The person I can count on. While I've remained scrawny, petite, and awkward, he has grown taller and sexier with thick, well-defined muscles that many girls drool over.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "Where's your machine?"

Laughter spills from my lips, and I roll my eyes. Only Mason calls that old bicycle a machine. It gave up on me yesterday, which is why I ended up going back home late.

"It's on a break," I whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Rather than answer, he cups my cheek. I hold back a whimper when his finger brushes the bruise inflicted by Sheila's nail polish.

His eyes narrow. "Who did this to you?"

"Oh, that?" I try to play it cool with a casual shrug, but he tenses. "It's nothing serious. Burned myself while making lunch. Held the pot too close to my face."

"Burn? Soma, this looks like someone forgot their hand on your face twice, and that's a nice way to put it," he counters. My cheeks flush, but he watches me with a seriousness that makes it impossible to look away. "Seriously, did those silly cousins of yours hit you again? Or was it your aunt this time? Which of them hurt you?"

"It's nothing," I insist.

"Who hurt you, Soma?" he growls.

A few people glance at us, but others continue forward without a second glance because we are inconsequential nobodies. Inching back, I rub my hands over my cheeks, and his eyes darken. He looks like he's two seconds away from marching over to Aunt Helen's house. But what can he do? He might have a wolf, but it's not strong.

"Drop it," I say. His mouth opens, but I cut him off. "No good will come out of talking about this. I'll focus on keeping my head down. It's the only thing I can do now."

"Soma-"

"Soon, the Luna selection will be over," I continue as if he didn't interrupt. My hand slides into the crook of his elbow, and I tug him toward the palace. "Maeve or Sheila will be mated to the crown prince and will move into the palace. I'll be free. Until then, this is really nothing."

Mason sighs. "Even if they leave, you'll be stuck with your aunt. That's hardly better." While his worries are valid, there's nothing we can do about it. "I hate this."

So do I, but in a pack where power matters, being an orphaned omega is the worst thing that can happen to anyone. Mason passes me a bar of chocolate, and I almost sob with gratitude. I chew it slowly, savoring each bite.

"Thanks," I tell him.

He squeezes my hand. "You're welcome. I wish-"

Already knowing where he's going with this, I interrupt him. "How about we meet up later? Saturday morning?"

The selection will happen at midnight, which means most people will be asleep during the day. Mason's steps falter, and I pick up speed when the palace gates appear.

"At our usual spot. The Luna selection ceremony should be over by then," I add. "Maeve and Sheila will probably still be in the palace, and Aunt Helen will be too tired to stay awake. I can make it. What do you say?"

A grin breaks out on his lips, and something warm fills my chest, easing the ache of my harsh reality.

"My Saturday morning alone with you? In the woods?" He makes it sound naughtier than it actually is. We haven't even kissed yet. "It's a date, Somadina Bello."

Heat creeps up my neck. I click my tongue, but his smile expands.

"You're yet to tell me why you're headed to the palace."

"About that, I landed this big gig with the decorators for the ceremony," he explains. "Some guy came to the store and was talking about it. Didn't think I'd get a spot."

Just like me, Mason is an orphan. He was brought up by Old Man Jimmy, a grump who runs the local liquor store.

Jimmy is more of a grumpy boss to him than a father. They argue at least twice a week, which always results in Mason spending the night out in the woods. On days I know about it, I sneak him into my room. Most of the time, Jimmy makes me appreciate Aunt Helen. As horrible as she is, she's never kicked me out of the house.

"Nice," I mutter.

"The pay is great, too. A week's wage in one day." He pulls his hand from mine and throws his arm around my shoulders. "When this is all over, I owe you a treat."

"Careful," I tease. "I have a large appetite."

Mason's laughter tickles my ears as we brush past the palace guards at the entrance. They watch everyone who enters with unreadable faces while clutching guns that are no doubt filled with wolfsbane or silver bullets.

The palace looms ahead of us like something out of a dream. Elegant yet imposing, ancient yet modern, with a perfect blend of glass, steel, and polished stone. Wide floor-to-ceiling windows reflect the surrounding hills, and sleek balconies shoot out with sharp precision.

Everything about it screams power and wealth. From the perfectly trimmed hedges lining the walkway to the towering banners fluttering in the late afternoon breeze, and the wide parking space for visitors' and royal cars. My gaze snags on a familiar black car, and my steps slow.

It's the car from yesterday.

Someone is inside. My feet forget to function as the person in the vehicle shifts. The tinted window rolls down halfway, and for the briefest second, sharp gray eyes lock onto mine.

My breath catches, and Mason tightens his grip on me.

"What's wrong?" he asks, searching my face.

"Nothing," I say quickly, forcing a smile. "Just got dizzy for a second."

The weight of the stranger's gaze digs into my back. But I don't turn. If that's a royal, I don't want to mess with them.

"My cousins signed me up for some chores," I murmur.

His brows rise. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," I say, already taking a step back. "I'll come find you once I'm done."

He nods, leaning in to brush his lips against my cheeks. "See you later, Pup-pup."

He's been calling me Pup-pup since I turned ten. Now I'm nineteen, and he still does. I have stopped trying to get him to stop. If anything, I find it endearing now. It's nice to have someone care about you for who you are.

I watch Mason walk off to join his crew. Heart still thudding from that stare, I glance back toward the car.

But it's empty.

SOMA

I spend the entire afternoon hanging decorations. It's more fun than I imagined, and that's solely because of Mason. He keeps wrapping the lights around his neck and pretending to choke.

Edna, the head decorator, has sent us a warning look twice. But whatever agreement she has with my best friend stops her from kicking us out of her sight.

"Stop it." I wheeze, trying to catch my breath as another bout of laughter takes over me. "You're going to get us in trouble if you keep making me laugh this hard."

Mason wiggles his brows. "But I love it when you laugh." His lips pull into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes grow soft. I try not to blush. "You're way prettier when you laugh. Way prettier than those nasty cousins of yours."

My eyes dart around the clustered backyard, and I slap a hand over his mouth. "Mason," I say, letting out a nervous laugh. "You can't say that."

"That's it," Edna declares, finally losing it with us. "I'm separating the two of you for the rest of the day."

She storms toward us, and I tense. Others mind their business, hanging balloons and setting up the stage. The decoration isn't fully finished, but I can easily see it being transformed into something of a fairytale.

"You," she starts, pointing a finger at me. "Go there."

Mason wraps a protective arm around my shoulders. "It's my fault."

"I don't care. If she doesn't move, you lose your pay."

Mason's mouth opens, but I'm already racing to the other end of the backyard before he can protest. In case he has forgotten, he's getting a week's pay in one day.

We will survive a few hours apart.

The backyard is wide and open, bordered by a low stone fence and rows of trimmed shrubs. Beyond that, the land slopes gently down into a stretch of woods that surrounds the back of the palace. I busy myself in the corner lacking decorations, throwing Mason a smile.

Annoyance flickers across his face, but he returns to work. After our separation, the place goes quiet, and the late afternoon sun casts long shadows over the grass. I'm on my knees, stringing fairy lights through the bushes, when something crashes through the trees.

A wolf.

A big black wolf. Streaks of deep orange blaze through its fur, like embers woven into darkness. It bolts out of the woods without warning, moving with an intensity that reminds me of fire. Its molten eyes glow, shifting between copper, gold, and ember-red.

In my haste to scurry out of its way, I lose my balance and fall onto the damp grass. Before I can scramble back up, two more wolves burst out, faster than the first. They barrel through the yard, knocking over tables and tangling the strings of lights we've spent hours setting up.

It's chaos-a complete mess. The thought of starting over makes my head ache. Still sitting on the grass, I twist around to glare at the wolf that sent me flying. But instead of wolves, I'm horrified to see they've all shifted to their human forms. Which means...

They are naked. All three of them.

Cheeks flushing with embarrassment, I avert my gaze. Something unexpectedly warm courses through my veins, and my heart pounds. I wait long enough to ensure they're all decent before I chance another look.

Thankfully, they're better dressed now in jeans that hang too low below their waists. Even with their backs turned to me, I can tell they are bulkier and taller than Mason, with hair varying from auburn to black to red.

Their laughter and voices fill the air as they grab shirts from maids who must have appeared when I glanced away. Everyone else is in a trance, with their heads bowed and their necks tilted to the side to show submission.

No one reprimands the trio for the mess they made. Even Edna is unusually quiet. I can't look away from the one in the middle, the one with the broadest shoulders and wavy auburn hair that falls to his nape.

When he turns, I know he's the one who caused my fall. There's a hint of that ember-red in his eyes before they switch to smoky grey that pierce right through me. He's the same guy from the car, probably the person who splashed water on me yesterday.

Instead of remorse, disapproval flickers in his gaze as he takes a step forward. The sun catches the silver stud in his ear and the second piercing in his left brow.

He sweeps his hair into a small bun, and his muscles ripple, making him alluring yet dangerous. I should stop gawking at him, but there's a sharpness about his beauty that makes it impossible to do otherwise.

Something about him feels familiar. I've seen him elsewhere. But it's when his accomplices turn I realize where I saw them. In the pictures plastered all over Sheila and Maeve's walls.

These are the... Alpha princes.

My head dips in a bow. I hold my breath, worried I'll be punished for staring into the face of Brynne Rybak, Crown Prince of Shadowspire. Do I apologize?

Mason steps in front of me before I can decide and helps me to my feet.

"Are you alright?" he asks, eyeing the mess of grass and dirt clinging to my dress.

"Yes," I say quickly, forcing a smile. "I'm fine."

His jaw tightens, and his lips press into a grim line. He doesn't believe me.

"Excuse me," Mason murmurs, turning to address the brothers. I reach for his hand, but my fingertips graze his skin as he moves away from me. "You hurt-"

"Pass me that towel," one prince cuts in.

He has a head full of startling red hair, with dark brown eyes and the cheekiest grin I've ever seen. If I have to guess, he's the troublemaker of the group, the one who's always up to no good. He must be Kade Rybak.

Kade is the youngest of the brothers, which leaves the middle prince to be Tristan Rybak. He's the brooding one, with an air of mystery. I know this because Sheila has a preference for him. She's always talking about wanting to know what lies underneath all that mysteriousness.

"Hello?" Kade snaps his fingers. "The towel."

Mason ignores the order without a glance at the towel Kade points at. His eyes remain trained on Brynne.

"Are you at least going to apologize?" he demands of Brynne. My eyes widen in shock, and gasps travel through the backyard. "You made my friend fall."

"Mason." This is a fight we can't win. I yank on the hem of his sleeve, whispering, "What are you doing?"

"He owes you an apology," he hisses out without so much as a glance at me. His whole body tightens with fury, and my hand falls to my side. "I won't let these guys walk around like they did nothing."

"Are you talking about me and my brothers?" Kade asks.

Kade moves so fast my head spins. When he stops in front of us, I expect Mason to flinch, but he stands straighter. Even then, Kade towers over him by a few inches.

"Yes, I was," Mason answers. For once, I don't appreciate his confidence, and I consider leaving him to face this on his own. "You ruined my friend's dress. All three of you. The least you can do is apologize."

Brynne stops beside Kade to ask, "What's going on here?"

"He wants us to apologize to his little girlfriend here," Kade supplies. Tristan flanks Kade on the other side, quiet. "To fix her dress like it wasn't already horrible."

He snickers, like it's funny, and of course, Mason falls for it.

"No need to sound so condescending about it," Mason mutters. "Horrible or not, you owe her an apology."

"Is that so?" Kade's gaze drifts to me, and I let mine drop. Whatever he sees makes him laugh. "What other demands do you have of your princes?"

Mason slows. The moment he catches on to their real identity, he stiffens, and his hands clench at his sides.

"Princes?" he whisp

SOMA

Tension thickens the air. But Mason's shock only lasts a few seconds before he speaks again.

"I mean no disrespect, Your Highness," Mason mutters. "But surely the Alpha princes of Shadowspire are not above being apologetic when they wrong their subjects... unless there's a separate set of laws, which the elites live by."

"You're quite cheeky for a servant," Kade murmurs.

His eyes shine brightly with mischief as he smacks Mason's cheeks twice. He's baiting him, and it works.

"I'm not a servant," Mason growls.

There is another collective gasp. I react faster this time. "Mason," I say in a weak voice, trying to drag him away before this escalates. "Please. Let's go. They-"

A scream cuts me off. I stagger as Mason doubles over in pain, both hands clutching his stomach. Brynne towers over him, his fist ready for another punch.

How are they so fast?

As he aims for Mason's stomach, I blurt, "Wait. He didn't mean it."

His attention doesn't waver from Mason. "What was that?" he asks in a voice cold enough to cut glass. With one sweep of his leg, he knocks Mason off his feet and straddles him before he can recover or fight back. The first punch has blood flying out of Mason's lips. "Say that again. I dare you."

"No. Please, stop." I rush toward him, but strong pairs of arms grab me, forcing me to stay down against my will. "He didn't mean any of it. He's sorry."

"Hush, girl. He can speak for himself," Kade says as Brynne continues to pummel Mason. "Can't he, Tris?"

Tristan grunts, but their hold on my arm doesn't slacken.

"Let me go," I beg. I thrash against their grip, voice breaking. My stomach twists as blood spills from Mason's lips and nose. "Please. He's going to kill him."

"If he doesn't know his place, then he's better off dead."

I don't know which of the brothers said that, but Brynne's fists continue to fly, fury radiating off him. It's clear he wants Mason dead.

Mason groans beneath him. His hands rise and fall back before he can summon the strength to fight back.

"Please," I choke out, tears blurring my vision. "Please. I'll do anything. Just stop, please. Please don't kill him."

Brynne finally looks up, and a cruel, satisfied smirk stretches across his face. "Anything?"

"Anything."

"Well, well, well," Brynne says, rising to his feet with eerie calm. He gives Mason's limp body one last kick and turns to me. "At least one of you knows when to beg."

The weight of his stare travels down my body, and I struggle not to shiver. He sends his brothers a look. They let go of me, and I fall on my ass. The moment I attempt to move, he cuts me a look that freezes me in place. I remain on the grass, forcing myself to stay still.

"Anything," Brynne murmurs, as if testing the word. But I know better. He doesn't have good plans for me. Mason disobeyed him in public, and he'll make him pay at all costs, even if it means ending my life. "Take off your dress."

"What?" I breathe.

He throws Mason a sadistic smile, silently hinting at what will happen if I don't act fast. "You heard me. Now."

A lump builds in my throat. But all it takes is one look at Mason's bloody face for my shaky hands to move. I've been humiliated countless times in the past. I'm not new to being forced to feel like worthless scum, but this... this is different. Even my crazy cousins have never stooped this low. They limit it to private spaces.

As I reach for the hem of my dress, a pathetic sound flies out of Mason's lips. Brynne moves, and I shout, "Wait. I'm taking it off." The crown prince pauses, his foot inching dangerously close to Mason's crotch. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes. "I'm on it."

It takes a few deep breaths, but I tug it over my head and hold it to my chest to protect what little is left of my decency. Murmurs sound behind me as my naked, scarred body comes into view. Multiple eyes bore into my back, and I shrink into myself, my head drooping.

The cold air bites against my skin, making me shiver. But it's nothing compared to the cold in my heart.

I hate them.

I hate every single one of them, but what choice do I have?

Kade steps forward and yanks the dress from my grip, tossing it to the grass like it's a piece of rag. My hands immediately go over my breasts, but Brynne snarls.

"Hands down," Brynne commands. "On your knees."

The murmurs grow louder. I want to believe they all disapprove of the prince's method, but I know better. They must be enjoying this. Pushing myself up, I sink to my knees and place my hands on my thighs. Brynne spreads out his arms, circling me like a hunter about to hunt his prey.

"Oh, don't look away. She's giving us a show." His voice hardens, daring anyone else to disobey him. "Tristan, will you be so kind as to help her boyfriend up? There's no way he's missing this view."

Tristan hesitates for a brief second, which makes hope flare dangerously in my chest. In a flash, he crouches behind Mason to force his head upward. I avoid his gaze, shame and disgust curling low in my belly. The most important thing is that my best friend will live. I can't afford to let the only friend I have die over something that's my fault. Hopefully, they'll still pay his wage.

"Can we go now?" I whisper.

"Is that the right way to address your prince?" Kade asks.

"My apologies. Can we go now, Your Highness?"

Brynne stops in front of me, his finger curling under my jaw. Rage bubbles in my chest as Mason's blood coats my skin and his knuckles, but the only thing I can do is seethe silently.

"Not yet," he says.

Our eyes hold briefly, and chills race down my spine. Brynne steps back to flash his bloody hands, clicking his tongue like he didn't bring that upon himself.

"Look how dirty my hands are from touching your filthy boyfriend. They need cleaning," he tells me. "Be a good girlfriend and do what is needed."

Kade mentioned a towel earlier, but standing means more people will see me. I reach for my dress, but as soon as my fingers close around it, Brynne tuts in disapproval.

"No," he tells me. "Use your tongue."

A sob catches in my throat, and my head sags. I'm so tired of pretending to be strong when I'm nothing more than a pathetic omega.

"Please. I beg you." My forehead drops to the grass. I bow once, then again, and again, not minding the sharp pain in my temple. "Show kindness, Your Highness."

"Use. Your. Tongue."

Mason groans in protest, and Tristan responds with a slap to his face. My stomach bottoms out. It's now or never. Pulling myself back up, I shut my eyes, afraid Brynne will make me open them so I can witness my humiliation, but he doesn't.

Mouth open, I push my tongue out, ready to drag the tip over Brynne's bloodied knuckles. But when I angle forward for better reach, there's nothing, only cool air.

My body tips as I'm thrown off balance. I lurch forward, catching myself with both hands before my face hits the grass.

Laughter breaks out around me, and my eyes slowly open. Brynne is no longer at my front. He's on my left now.

"Such a dog," the crown prince spits. The laughter grows louder, and he barks out the word: "Again."

Mason makes a sound, or maybe I imagined it. But I keep my eyes open, determined to end this fast.

"Keep your eyes closed. It's more fun that way," Brynne tells me. I know this is a game to him, but it still hurts to be treated this way. Like less than nothing. My eyes shut, and my insides shrivel when he adds, "These inconsequential vermin need to know what absolute power and domination looks like."

For the second time, I open my mouth, but before I can perform the degrading act, a sultry voice cuts through the backyard.

"What is going on here?"