Chapter 13

Aurora

There’s soft music playing downstairs, and I look out my large windows to see flocks of royal’s meandering through the palace doors to the gala inside. My stomach knots at the idea of being seen by so many high-ranking officials but the only thing keeping my head on straight is the idea of getting to see my parents and my closest friends.

I pace my bedroom, wearing a lengthy red dress made of silk, feeling it hug my curves while it trails behind every step as I pace the floors of my bedroom. I wear another set of heels, glitzed with diamond looking studs, the dress I wear so much more glamorous than anything I’ve ever worn on my birthdays before.

It used to be a simple affair, a night in my parent’s kitchen with a cake my mother made last minute. My friends would surround me and sing, and I would open gifts of small amounts of coins or special treasures they have found that would make me smile. It was simple then.

I yearn for those times right about now, watching droves of unfamiliar faces waltz into the palace. If I were capable, I’d change out of this dress, leave behind the heels, and run out of this palace so fast that I wouldn’t care if I were running in the right direction of home, as long as I escaped.

A knock at the door makes me jump and I tuck a long curl behind my ear, turning to greet Jaxson who I assume is back to take me to the ballroom like he mentioned before leaving to go get ready. Instead, the door creaks open and I spot a set of hazy light eyes that make me shudder.

Xander shuts the bedroom door behind him.

I hold my breath at the sight of him here alone with me.

“Love the dress,” he says, arms crossed over his broad, strong chest. He lets his eyes linger at the fabric that holds against my back and my hips. I swallow hard. “It’s a shame it’s being wasted on a whore commoner,” he sighs in exhalation.

My heart aches, even though I tell myself I can’t let him know that he intimidates me. “I didn’t get to choose the dress,” I admit in a nearly mute whisper. “Your brother did.”

“Half-brother,” he snarls.

“What do you need from me, sire?” I ask, my heart racing.

I need him to leave. I want to leave.

“I just wanted to remind you, even under the guise of makeup and fancy hair,” he hums, stalking closer until he is standing beside me, then behind me, my body frozen to his warm, snickering breath as he continues, “you are still a filthy peasant, and we can all see it.”

I only nod. He isn’t wrong.

“My half-brother doesn’t see it yet, still reeling from his mating pull aura, but it’s only a matter of time before he sees what we all see. No commoner is to be the queen Luna. It’s not even conceivable to thought,” he says, his words stabbing my back.

“But Queen Lily said we were equals and—”

“She was no queen,” he barks. “She was a slut. They had their son and she died because she was weak like you and your kind.” He pulls me forward by my arm, forcing me against his chest while staring down at me. “At least she was a royal. You are nothing, bitch. You are an embarrassment and it’s hilarious to see my half-brother parade around a toy as a mate.”

I am surprised he speaks of his brother so horribly, but I can’t lie and say I haven’t thought the same exact thing at times. He presses his mouth to my ear, rolling my earlobe through his teeth until I feel like he may cut my skin.

I can already smell the trouble.

“Please, sire,” I ask, begging. “I don’t want trouble tonight. I miss my parents and my friends. Jaxson is the one who feels the mating pull, he keeps me in the palace. I didn’t want this life. I just want to go home.”

“I’ll make sure that happens,” he says, his voice slithering around my throat. “Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

He finally lets me go, his hand lingering on my throat while he moves out of my bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. I hold my arms tight against my stomach, feeling ill, everything about that interaction making my head spin.

I want to take off this dress and run away until I can’t run anymore, but the door flies open again, and Jaxson stands in the doorway, in a dark black suit with a crimson red handkerchief, making sure it matches my dress. His medals are polished and lined up as usual, and he looks the part of a future king, the top Alpha, and as he walks toward me with a short smile, I can’t even imagine how he sees me as a future Luna, a queen of any degree.

“You look beautiful,” he says. He reaches for my hand. I pulled it away before he could take hold of it. While he stares through me, I drop my gaze, feeling so out of place under his perfect royal glare. “What’s wrong now?”

Shaking my head, I don’t even have the courage to tell him why I feel so insignificant here. I am nothing compared to these powerful royals. I am a toy, just as Xander called me. I just pray to the moon goddess I won’t be played with.

“Will you tell me why you’re upset?”

“Sire, please, I don’t want to go to the gala—"

His tone drops. “Do not call me that, Aurora. I am not your superior, I am your mate.”

“You are my superior, sire,” I say, Xander’s words echoing through my head. “You are a royal, and I am just a commoner from the North Woods pack. I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this dress; I don’t deserve this gala for my birthday and—”

“Enough,” he snaps, the agitation rising in his voice now. “I won’t sit here and watch you disparage yourself because of your family’s status. You are my mate, and I don’t care if you’re a royal or a commoner, I will have you as my Luna.”

I flinch, thinking back to Xander’s threat.

“It’s time to go downstairs,” he says, calmer now. “I am going to walk you into the ballroom. Your parents have arrived already. They are sitting with my father so once they announce our entrance, I can walk you over to their table.”

Under the promise of seeing my parents, I comply with a nod, but I still want to run far away and never be seen in this palace again. He holds out his arm and I take it, feeling so pathetically small next to such a fierce Alpha’s son. I lower my head the entire walk downstairs, feeling my stomach knot while we approach the grand ballroom.

I cling Jaxson’s arm tighter, unsure what to expect, the muttering noise leaking from the ballroom now silenced at our footsteps into the doorway. I don’t have to look up to feel everyone glaring at us, Xander’s words of me being a filthy commoner now ringing an echo over and over about me being nothing compared to the royals in this room.

Jaxson pulls my face to rise with his, the fingertips on my chin the only reason I face the room now, wanting nothing more than to break free and just run until I can’t anymore.

“Prince Jaxson Knight and his mate, Aurora Hunter,” a bold voice announces.

Silence slaps me. I know they can smell my inferiority. They know what I am, and I somehow feel like a joke, waiting for a royal to push out of the crowd, slap me and force me to bow in submission, then everyone will have their turn until I kill over.

I watch the floor as he walks. I feel like I am floating. The murky murmurs of the room are now erupting into a mild chatter, and I have to block out the noise in order to keep my sanity. We begin to walk quicker, my legs growing weak already with petrifying fear.

We stop and my heart clinches, raising my eyes up again to finally meet the familiar faces of my parents. My mom wears an old white dress that I’ve seen her wear to pack events in the past and my father is in a suit I am almost certain he wore to their mating ceremony.

I break away from Jaxson at last, throwing myself into my father’s arms that wait open for me expectantly. My mother holds her arms around us both, their scent and their warmth so comforting when all I want to do is sob.

“Happy birthday, honey,” my father sighs into my hair, holding me tighter. “You look so beautiful tonight. Your mom and I are very proud of you.”

“We are,” my mother hums. “You will be a beautiful Luna.”

I ache at their words, pulling from the embrace earlier than I would like, trying to imagine how they would see this as a positive. This is the first time I’ve seen them in weeks and it’s because of my birthday. What if the next time I see them is when I turn twenty in a year? Will they still see it as a positive?

Before I can clarify what they mean, king Kennedy approaches and I bow my head at his height, my parents pulling away and doing the same. “No,” the king says, my eyes finally meeting his as he towers over me. “No need to bow, Aurora. You and your family are welcome here as equals.”

Equals.

My gaze flickers to the side, Xander standing at the chair where his father once sat, looking through me with such disdain, it’s as if I were a clump of mud on his freshly polished boot.

“I need some air,” I admit to the king, unsure who I would even want to talk to at this rate.

I move from the group, from the crowd, and desperately search for the courtyard. I expected my parents to feel the same way as me, wanting me to return home to them and forget about me playing princess, but hearing them say they are proud of me only solidifies the fact that they believe this is a good outcome for my life. I can’t help but disagree, pushing into the open-air courtyard.

Finally, by myself, I heave in and out every breath, the heat rising through my throat. The tears of frustration I have felt every second inside the palace finally release and I break into pieces in an array of dead bushes, plopping down on the concrete bench while my wolf cries with me.

This isn’t me. I don’t belong here.

“Hey, little one, you know you’re not allowed to cry on your birthday.”