Chapter 3

Celeste POV:

The guard's terrified shout hung in the frozen air of the Great Hall. Elder Arthur shot up from his high-backed chair so fast that his walking stick clattered to the stone floor unnoticed.

Heavy, measured footsteps echoed outside. Two knights in black plate armor pushed open the massive oak doors from the outside, letting a blast of freezing wind and the scent of cold iron sweep into the room.

A tall man in a sharply tailored black tailcoat strode across the threshold. Pinned to his chest was a silver wolf-head badge—the emblem of the Montgomery Duchy. It was Thomas Price, the Duke's head steward. The heavy, suffocating aura of a high-tier Beta rolled off him in waves.

Every commoner and low-ranking Omega in the hall instinctively bowed their heads in submission. Beside Darrin, Carlie's knees buckled, and she nearly collapsed onto the floor.

Thomas swept his cold gaze across the room before stopping on Elder Arthur. He gave a stiff, textbook noble bow, though his voice held zero warmth.

"Good day, Elder Arthur."

Elder Arthur wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, forcing a dry smile.

"Steward Thomas, what an unexpected honor for the Wiggins pack. What orders does His Grace, Duke Montgomery, have for us?"

Thomas reached into his coat, pulled out a parchment scroll sealed with dark red wax, and unrolled it with both hands. His booming voice filled the rafters.

"By order of His Grace, Duke Montgomery, I am here to select a pure-blooded Omega from the Wiggins pack to wed the Alpha Heir, Lord Bryant, as his fated Luna."

Dead silence fell over the hall. Everyone in the kingdom knew that Lord Bryant was a violent, arrogant fool who kept a favored mistress outside the castle. Marrying into Northwind Castle of the Montgomery Duchy was a death sentence for any noble daughter.

Thomas rolled up the parchment and fixed his hawk-like eyes on Carlie, whose crimson dress made her stand out in the center of the room. His voice dropped to a chilling command.

"His Grace heard there are two unwed Omegas of age in your pack. Which one of you will step forward to accept this honor?"

Carlie began to shake violently from head to toe. I knew she was reliving the nightmare of her past life, where she had been torn apart by hounds in that very castle. She let out a piercing shriek.

"No! I won't marry him!"

Losing all composure, she wrapped both arms around Darrin's neck, her nails ripping through his gray linen robe as tears and snot smeared across her face.

"Master Darrin, save me! Tell him we are already betrothed! You just swore to marry me!"

Under the crushing Beta aura of the Duke's steward, Darrin's face turned as white as chalk. His legs trembled visibly beneath his robe, and he reached up to pry Carlie's fingers off his arm.

Feeling him pull away, Carlie panicked. She yanked the ice-blue wolf pelt off her wrist and slammed it against Darrin's chest, hissing low enough that only those of us standing close could hear.

"Don't forget what I just said!"

Darrin's pupils shrank to pinpricks. Murderous rage flashed in his eyes, but he clenched his jaw, forced a hideous smile, and wrapped his arm around Carlie's trembling shoulders.

Taking a shaky breath, Darrin bowed his head toward Thomas and spoke in a tight, strained voice.

"Steward Thomas... forgive me, but Lady Carlie and I have already bound our marriage contract before the elders."

Thomas narrowed his eyes, looking down at the pathetic pair with a mocking sneer.

"A mere commoner scholar dares to snatch a bride chosen by the Montgomery Duchy?"

Elder Arthur looked ready to faint. Terrified that offending a Pack Alpha Duke would bring annihilation upon our clan, he hurried forward with his hands raised.

"Calm your wrath, Steward Thomas! This... this is merely a misunderstanding!"

Standing quietly in the shadows, I watched Carlie chain herself to a vicious, wolfless fraud just to escape her old grave. A wave of pure satisfaction warmed my cold fingertips.

Believing she had escaped death, Carlie peeked out from behind Darrin's shoulder and shot me a gloating, malicious look. Her eyes practically screamed that it was my turn to go die in her place.

I met her gaze and curved my lips into a gentle, almost grateful smile.

Thomas turned his sharp eyes toward me. He looked me up and down, taking in my faded gray hem and pale cheeks. His brows drew together in obvious displeasure.

He let out a cold snort, making no effort to hide his disdain.

"Is this the only other Omega left in the Wiggins pack? In werewolf mating, the Alpha's Bite during the Marking ritual requires strong stamina. With a body this frail, how could she possibly survive the Alpha Heir's mark?"

Elder Arthur choked on his breath, cold sweat soaking through the back of his tunic. The survival of the entire Wiggins clan hung by a thread.

In the middle of the suffocating silence, Concubine Brenda's eyes darted around. Stepping forward, she plastered a fawning smile across her heavily powdered face.

She pointed a manicured finger right at me and spoke loudly to Thomas.

"Steward Thomas, do not be fooled by her thin frame! Lady Celeste is the legitimate firstborn daughter of our pack leader's late wife! Her bloodline is far purer than my Carlie's!"

I lowered my lids to hide the frost in my eyes. To protect her own daughter, Brenda was shoving me straight into the furnace—which was Tuesday's work for her, and music to my ears.

At the mention of "legitimate firstborn," Thomas's expression softened slightly. He looked at me again, his gaze shifting from disgust to cold calculation.

I took a steady step out of the shadows and walked to the center of the hall. Keeping my spine straight, I sank into a flawless court curtsy before him.

Lifting my chin, I looked straight into his eyes and spoke in a calm, even voice.

"Steward Thomas, I, Celeste, willingly accept His Grace's arrangement."

A flicker of surprise crossed Thomas's stern face. Clearly, he hadn't expected a fragile-looking Omega to answer without a single tear. After a brief pause, he gave a slow nod.