Snow crunches under my feet as I walk along the mountain path. The hoot of an owl mixes with the faint voices of people partying in the valley below. I envy them. They get to celebrate the exact thing that's caused me three mental breakdowns and a stomach twisted with dread.

I sigh, slowing my pace. I can't stop it at this point. But I'll sure as hell stall for as long as I can.

Maybe the alternative isn't so bad. Being invisible and ignored might be better than being tied to a narcissistic asshole.I come to a high point in the trail and step off of it. A moth flutters up from a patch of tall, dead grass. It dances around in front of my face for a second before disappearing up into the black, starry sky until it's too small to see anymore. Likely off to hide somewhere else. I'm jealous of its freedom. It can hide from its problems. I can't.

Through a gap in the trees I look down to where the pack members are preparing in the clearing. Their bonfire is burning bright and tall, disrupting the otherwise black shadows and creating a spot of warmth among the cold landscape. Even with the distance, I can see the snow sparkling in the firelight.

A beautiful winter night has never looked so ugly.

• • •

4 Days Earlier...

"This one or this one?"

I wonder if squirrels live in neighborhoods. If a squirrel lives a couple trees away from another, does that make them neighbors? Or what if a squirrel builds a nest in a tree that already has one? Do they fight or do they coexist?

"Adrienne? Opinion?"

They probably get along. They probably go over to each other's nests and ask to borrow sugar. No, not sugar. Acorn dust... like squirrel cocaine.

A hard smack to my leg makes me jump.

"OW! What the hell?!" I rub my burning thigh and give Aimee a death glare. What did I do to displease Her Highness now?

"You aren't even paying attention! You're laying there staring at the ceiling like a washed up cucumber," she accuses. So maybe I'm not giving her my undivided attention. She has a fair argument there. But in my defense she can usually carry on a conversation just fine with herself as long as I give the occasional nod and grunt of acknowledgement.

I realize she's standing in front of me, holding a silver and black dress in each hand. After a quick game of eeny, meeny, miny, moe I point to the black one in order to avoid further abuse.

That simple action is all it takes to perk her back up.

"Great. I thought so, too," she says. She hauls the dresses back across the room, hanging the silver one in the closet and draping the black one across the back of an armchair.

"You know I really wish you would go to this party with me. Make some friends. It would do you good to talk to someone else besides me for once," she lectures as she plops down at her vanity. She opens a small glass bottle and starts smearing skin-colored paint on her face. It matches her cocoa tone perfectly.

"I'm starting to regret doing that much," I grumble in return. Aimee is the only person I truly consider a friend. I've known her for about as long as I can remember, though it wasn't until about a year and a half ago that we became close.

"Oh please. Your bitch ass loves me and you know it. And since you love me so much, you should come with me." Her words are mumbled as she puckers her lips to slather her dark purple lipstick on.

I don't waste time in shooting her down. "Not a chance."

"Oh, come on! It'll be fun. I hear Oarcan boys are a sight to see. Tall and sleek. With water dripping from their silky hair, down their chiseled abs and right to their-"

I gag. I actually gag. When that's not enough to stop her, I throw myself into an exaggerated coughing fit to get the point across. The last thing I need to hear about are Aimee's fantasies. Her many, many fantasies. And believe me when I say they're sickening. Her ones for the males of the Oarca pack-- another tribal pack, whose members have a special affiliation with water-- are exceptionally disturbing.

"You can act grossed out all you want now. One day is coming when the high and mighty Adrienne Gage is going to find someone attractive. And when you do I'll be there to rub it in your face." She pauses from meticulously tracing over her eyebrow with a pen. An ornery smile is stuck on her face as she looks in the mirror to see my reaction.

I roll my eyes. I'm skeptical. Extremely skeptical. Aimee embraces her sexuality fully, while I on the other hand, am not interested in the subject. Yet somehow we still get along, despite being the equivalent of polar opposites.

"Yeah, whatever." I stand up from her bed, grabbing my black jacket. "I'll see you later."

She looks up at me with one eyebrow matching her chocolate colored hair and the other barely visible under all the other products that are professionally caked on.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to help clean up for the party. Another celebration for that mightier-than-thou asshole I'm assuming. Who knows what for now," I say bitterly. My blood nearly boils with irritation just by thinking of that spoiled brat. In addition to that, I can feel my hair already falling out with the thought of putting up with Anthony the rest of the day.

Aimee laughs. She's always found my hatred for that asswipe to be entertaining. Needless to say, I don't find it so amusing. Just looking at him makes me homicidal.

"You can always come with me," she chimes with a cheery voice, wiggling her one visible eyebrow.

I snort and turn to leave. "Okay, laugh it up. You're next on the list."

• • •

The sun is warm against my back, making it seem more like mild fall than early winter.

"You missed a spot," Anthony nags for the millionth time from down below.

I can feel my patience deteriorating.

"Does it look like I'm done?" I glare down with the hatred of a thousand suns where he's busy steadying the ladder and critiquing my every movement. Even the top of his head- covered by moderately long, brown hair- annoys me.

I've never liked Anthony. He's the kind of person that could drive a Buddhist to take a swing at him. I'm not sure why this unlucky fate picked me as it's target, but I somehow always end up getting stuck with him, be it pack errands or border patrols.

"No, but you should get it before you forget. Right there, up in the corner." His innocent, completely clueless tone of voice only makes him all the more irritating.

I clench the sponge tighter, causing all the water to run out and down my arm. "Shouldn't you be hanging ribbons or something?"

"I'm just trying to help you, okay? This party is for you, you know." He points to another spot on the second story window that I've been cleaning for half an hour because it's impossible to satisfy this annoying freak.

"For me? What do you mean for me? It's for Nathan just like everything else." I say, scrubbing the window like I have a vengeance to settle with it.

Nathan is the Alpha's son. Along with his upcoming 18th birthday, the title will also be given to him. And just like all Alpha children, Nathan's a spoiled brat. Anything we ever do as a pack is always for him.

One time his father even made us throw a party for his first chest hair. What was even worse is that it was a dinner party. Of course I couldn't eat anything without throwing it right back up because one thought was always on my mind, and that was the fact that we were celebrating a chest hair.

"You haven't heard? Nathan picked you as his Luna."

Right then my foot slips off the ladder, sending me plummeting downward. My stomach is skinned on the steps before my hands gain purchase where my feet once were.

"WHAT?!" I choke on my own saliva while trying desperately to reattain my footing.

"I thought you would've known by now," He shrugs simply

"No. There's nothing to know, because it's not happening." I state firmly and begin to climb down the ladder.

"Wait what are you doing? Adrienne we're not done! Adrienne!" His yelling falls on dismissive ears because there's no way in hell I'm walking back there, or letting this happen to myself.

There's a lump stuck in my throat and I'm so angry that my jaw quivers if I'm not grinding my teeth together. My stomach is in knots, but not the good, excited kind of knots. Instead, it's the kind of knots that urge breakfast to make a reappearance. 

I storm my way towards the Alpha's house, on the hunt for a certain ego inflated, soon to be Alpha. The angry and quick pace I keep earns me some concerned stares from the pack members as I march through our little village.

I try to ignore them as I make a beeline for the house. Now that I think of it, everyone has been treating me differently. I've been getting dirty looks and side-eyed glares all week, and I'm just now noticing it.

They could only be thinking one of two things. Why her or thank the gods it's not me.

My face burns with embarrassment and ignorance. Apparently, everyone has known about my fate except for me. But that ends now.

After having burst through the door of the Alpha's house without a single trace of hesitation, I head for the stairs where I know his office is. I'm marching my way down the hallway when angry voices stop me dead in my tracks.

"That maniac is on the loose! How am I suppose to takeover when he's out there just waiting for someone to pounce on?" I recognize the whiny yet still smug voice of the celebrated prick, Nathan Swelter.

Since I need to talk to him anyway, sticking around by the partially open door wouldn't be that wrong, would it? I've never exactly been against eavesdropping before, so what's the difference now?

That's my reasoning as I creep closer to the door and press my ear against the wall, letting the gift of heightened hearing do it's job.

"He's less likely to bother us if there are two leaders. You have a Luna picked out, correct?" I recognize the voice of Alpha Andre, speaking in a composed tone.

"I want Adrienne," he responds almost immediately, causing me to physically restrain the gag squirming to escape my throat. At the mention of my name, I feel the color drain from my face. "She's the one and I'm tired of waiting for both her and my title."

A deep hum reaches my ears, what the Alpha always does when he's considering something. "Then wait no longer. I'll have the wedding moved up to Thursday. Since there's no mate bond to bind you, vows will work just as well. Plus, you'll have more time to get acquainted with her. Maybe even-"

"There's not going to be a wedding," I announce, seething after barging through the door on impulse. There's no way I can stand out there and silently listen to my future being decided for me. Not anymore. I'm sick of being a ghost in my own life.

Two pairs of eyes turn on me. One is Nathan's-- a light blue that pairs nicely with neatly combed black hair. The other pair are a darker blue and belong to his father, whose once inky black hair is now peppered with grey. Evidence of the stress that comes attached to the title.

"Excuse me?" Alpha Andre stands up from his leather office chair. He has squared shoulders and a tall stature that would be hard to beat. One thing is for certain, and it's that he's used to looking down on people, not vice versa. He shoots me that disappointing gaze that he's mastered over the years, making even the most arrogant of wolves ashamed of themselves.

I swallow, fighting to keep my attitude under control. Too many times I've mouthed off to him and seen the consequences. But keeping this new leaf turned over is proving to be quite challenging.

"I'm not marrying him or anyone else," I seethe again, planting my feet firmly in place. He can't possibly think that he can force me into this. Can he? He's held control over me my entire life, but surely there's a line he won't cross. There has to be.

To my right, Nathan lets out a frustrated moan.

"Why can't you just cooperate for once?" He whines at me. "I thought we were past this. I can give you everything you want! Who turns down the title of Luna?" He looks to his father for help with pleading yet demanding eyes.

He's never grown up. He still reminds me of that same child who threatened to throw a tantrum if he didn't get his dessert. Or the one who threatened to have my fingers cut off if I tried to play with a toy he'd forgotten he even had.

"You can't give me shit or you wouldn't have treated me like it my whole life," I shoot back, feeling a growl starting to rumble deep in my chest. He's always thought of himself as royalty and everyone else peasants. But in my eyes, a king without a crown isn't a king at all.

Alpha Andre snarls at me for my backlash. "Watch your damn tongue." He then turns to his son, confidence thick in the air around him. "She'll do whatever I say." He sits back down in his chair, leaning back and watching me with a calculating look. One that reminds me of a beady eyed snake in the grass.

"Won't you Adrienne?" He asks in that sickly sweet, ominous voice. I hate that voice, that tone. I hate it with all of my being and I always have. It makes me sick. Sicker than imagining a future with Nathan.

I clench my jaw tightly, my hands curling into fists. "And if I don't?"

He tilts his head down and smiles darkly, clasping his hands loosely together. "Then you'll be locked up again. You wouldn't want that, would you? I'd think it gets awful lonely down there."

My blood turns to ice and suddenly I feel cold. Chilled to the bone. It's as if I can already feel the frigid stone against my skin and the silence ringing in my ears.

I hide my fear and scoff, skeptical and taken aback. There's no way I can go back there, not to that hellhole. Though if he's serious about this, then I'm more screwed than the missing ones in his head. Though that's an easy accomplishment.

"You wouldn't." I force my words to come out as a challenge, yet on the inside I feel like breaking down, dropping to my knees, and begging to keep my freedom.

He smiles again, his eyes sparkling with a twisted amusement. "Oh but I would."

He enjoys this. I know he does.

I find myself staring down at my shoes. Heat rushes to my cheeks at the fact that he can bend me so easily with one simple threat.

This can't be happening...

"The wedding is Thursday," the Alpha's words are like a cold bucket of reality, reassuring me that this isn't a nightmare. "That should be enough time. Now go on. I believe you have ceremony to prepare for."

Go figure. Forced into an engagement and I'm still the one who has to cater the party I don't want.

My feet move mechanically towards the door, more than ready to leave. But not without knocking a potted plant off a nearby table first. The sound of the clay shattering on the floor is amplified by the thick silence of the room.

"Bitch," I mumble under my breath.

"What was that?" Nathan snaps. It surprises me that he doesn't let his daddy handle this for him, too.

I start to prepare a sarcastically sweet response, but instead I decide to voice my true feelings. There's no longer a reason to keep my mouth shut.

I whirl around on my heel to face him. My eyes lock with his, shooting daggers dripping with venom.

"Bitch. That's what I said," I snap, loud and clear, "You're a fucking bitch and I hope and pray that one day comes when your rotting and bloated body is found floating in the river, eyeless because the fish have already picked them out."

It feels as though my skin is on fire and my lungs ache for air. I mean every single word of what I say and my tone is more than laced with hatred; it's seeping it. Pure and livid hatred.

I don't wait to see if he's going to patronize me further or if his father is going to throw me back underground for not holding my tongue. I slam the door behind me with enough force and intent that a loud crack through the wood streaks across it.

Instead of going back to prepare for the party like I'd been told, I head straight to one of the many smalls cabins in the village and into my bedroom, which is similar to a loft.

Fairy lights hang around the tops of the dark grey walls. The room is flooded with natural lighting from the giant window that my bed is sidled up against. I plop down on it, burying myself in the sheets.

Just forget it. Forget everything.

Forgetting is always easier. Except this time, I can't push the dreadful thoughts away.

The wedding is Thursday. That leaves me with four days. Four days left of freedom. Four days left to figure out how to save myself.

Suddenly, in a random thought, I remember what Nathan said before I barged in.

"That maniac is on the loose! How am I suppose to takeover when he's out there just waiting for someone to pounce on?"

What maniac was he talking about? And what does that have to do with him needing a Luna before he becomes the Alpha?

The sun is starting to sink down, casting a dim light over the bare trees and white sparkling mountains. The air is cold, invigorating.

I walk along a snow dusted path leading out of our little village and into the woods nearby. Large trees, somehow still full with leaves, form a circle around the clearing.

Aimee is standing against the shadowy tree line. A group of girls, none of which I've ever bothered to have a conversation with, are surrounding her. Their voices are low, kept in hushed tones that only signal one thing: gossip.

I perk my ears, listening in.

"I hear he's ruthless. A monster who's wolf is three times the size of any other Alpha," a petite, bleach blonde- Mya- whispers, her eyes wide for emphasis.

Her brunette friend shudders before giving her input. "They say he's an absolute beast. He goes out commits mass murder whenever he feels like it!" Suddenly she lowers her voice even more and it turns shaky, "God, what if he comes here? Who knows where the hell he is right now."

They all exchange wide eyed glances, looking to gauge each other's reactions.

Who the hell are they talking about? And why are they so jittery?

As I approach, a stick snaps under my heel. All of them jump, including Aimee who has seemed fearless for as long as I've known her. Mya even lets out a choked scream.

All of their eyes turn on me as if I were the devil come to claim their souls. Their faces ghostly pale and their mouths are agape.

"Goddamn it, you can't do that!" Mya shrieks at me, her face turning into an accusatory stare. Something about her tone cuts right through me.

I narrow my eyes and push my lips into a snarky pucker. "If you're so scared then why don't you go choke on something besides fear?"

She sucks in a sharp breath, taken aback. Maybe it was a bit too far, but I can't say that I'm sorry. Nathan has already frayed my nerves for the day. Mya's mouth gapes like a fish out of water as she tries to find her words.

"You know what, fuck you," she spits before storming off. The other four girls follow her off, scowling at me at they go.

I brush it off and turn my attention back to my best friend. Aimee remains standing with her back towards the trees.

"What was that all about?" I ask, walking up to her and pointing a thumb back at the group.

She isn't phased by the little scene she just saw between me and Mya. At one point she tried to teach me how to keep my inner thoughts inside. Needless to say, she never did succeed. Now she doesn't even pay attention to my lack of a filter as she raises an eyebrow, her forehead wrinkling.

"You haven't heard?"

I shake my head, furrowing my brow. I need to know what's going on. People gossip all the time, but never like this. Never with such fear.

"They call him the Exiled Alpha," she pauses in order to look up at the sky as it grows increasingly darker. "Shit, I have to go. I'm already running late."

Her sentences are rushed as she bends down to grab the strap of a purple backpack and heave it onto her back.

"Wait! What do you mean Exiled-"

Before I can finish she reaches out and grabs me firmly by the shoulders, looking me dead in the eye with such intensity that I feel paralyzed.

"Listen to me Adrienne," she squeezes my shoulders, speaking firmly, "I don't have time to explain right now, but just- don't go off into the woods by yourself. I know you like to, but don't. Stay near the pack. You understand?"

I catch a chill running up my spine; one that's not caused by the cold. I can only think one thing in that moment, and it's what the fuck is out there?

I don't understand. I have no idea what she's talking about, only that whatever it is is dangerous. But I nod anyway.

This seems to be good enough for her because the next thing I know, she's pulling me into a hug.

"Stay safe, bitch," she says beside my ear. So much for her seriousness.

She lets me go and steps away. When she does she's wearing one of her signature ornery grins. Usually that gesture would comfort me, seeing her back to normal instead of spewing warnings at me. But it doesn't. Because her smile is half forced.

"Sorry I can't stay for the party. Looks like you'll get Nathan all to yourself," she teases sarcastically.

A pang of anger shocks my stomach and I open my mouth with intent of spitting profanities at her. But I bite my tongue as realization hits me.

She doesn't know.

She doesn't know about the blackmailed engagement or wedding. If she did, she would have told me. I know she would've. And she would've kicked Nathan's ass, regardless of the consequences.

I force an empty smile back to her, not quite as convincing as her own.

Let her have her fun, I think, My problems aren't hers.

"Yeah whatever," I call back as she gets farther and farther away, "Just don't get aids."

She turns around just brief enough to stick her tongue out at me in a playful sneer.

I let out a heavy sigh when I turn around and start walking back. There are a couple people bustling about, a lot of them carrying various ribbons or decorations.

I walk past all of the working wolves, heading back to my room.

If Nathan or Andre either one expect me to prepare for the party of my own demise, then they're out of their minds. What could they possibly do to me? Sentence me to a lifetime of misery?

Oh wait...

• • •

It's been three days since Aimee left. Three days that I've been locked in my room, trying anything to keep my mind off reality.

The only time any part of me left the room is when I stuck my head out the window to smoke, not wanting the smell to stick to the walls. The little glass ashtray on my desk is full and two empty cigarette packs lay in the trash can.

At least four times a day, one of the lower ranking members, a maid or a servant, would bring me food. My only guess is that this is Nathan's way of trying to suck up. Feigning sweetness in hopes that I won't act out during the ceremony.

What he doesn't know though, is that his pathetic attempt to win me over is in vain. I won't bend for that asshole no matter how much food he sends to me.

I hadn't even realized I was letting myself drift to sleep until a knock on the door stirs me awake.

Each time food was delivered, someone called out to me after knocking. No voice follows this one.

Now what is it? Let me guess, I have to plan the bridal shower?

They knock again, this time louder.

"I'm coming," I growl, untangling myself from the sheets. I stumble my way over to the door and open it.

Nathan is standing there, hands in his pockets and a polite smile on his face. "Well hey there, sleepy head," he chirps. His tone is so nice that I can almost feel the bile rising in my throat. "The party's starting in half an hour. So look your best. It is in our honor after all."

I narrow my eyes and step back, looking him up and down. "Who the hell are you?"

He laughs, as if that were the funniest thing he'd ever heard. A cheerful sound, but also a fake one. "I just came to remind you," he says with in overly friendly tone before turning business-like, "Now do something with your hair, put on something expensive, and meet downstairs in ten minutes."

I don't move. Instead I stand like a statue, keeping my skeptical stare focused on him.

"Okay, look. As my chosen Luna, you have to have a look that makes everyone jealous of you on sight. Of course they'll already do that as long as you're on my arm, but still. I expect you to act like a perfect sweetheart, and if not... there will be consequences."

And just like that, the act is up. His conceited and bossy attitude is back in full swing, along with that pulsing vein in his neck. It always makes an appearance when he doesn't get his way.

I continue staring at him with dead eyes, knowing it would eventually make that nerve of his crack. If he intends to try and control my life- which he does- then he'll at least have to give me his reasoning.

"Why am I your chosen Luna?" I ask, suspicious. It doesn't make sense to me. We don't get along anymore, so why would he want to marry me? Against my will at that.

He smirks, meeting my eyes with a devious gleam of his own. "You're mouthy, Adrienne Gage. A sharp tongue and a clever head. That's what people can't see until it's already too late."

He moves closer, lifting my chin with his thumb. With less than an inch between our cheeks, his hot breath fans over my ear as he speaks in a low whisper. "And I can't forget those grey eyes... They're so cold. So unpredictable. So... unreadable."

He swipes his thumb across my jaw as he steps away, turning and leaving just like that. "Remember," he calls, his voice echoing in the dark hallway, "Ten minutes."

My fingers raise to touch where he did. I rub the skin until it starts to burn. I'm quite certain I've rubbed it raw with my palm, yet it still doesn't feel clean.

So that's his reason.

He plans to use me as his pawn.

But I'll be damned if I help him win whatever chess game he thinks he's playing.

With Alpha Andre's threat in mind, I close the door and get to work on myself reluctantly. If only I had a fashion savvy best friend like all the movies portray, then this would be a lot easier.

The cruel thing is is that I do; except she's miles away, partying her ass off in another pack.

At least one of us is having a good time.