Chapter 1
The day my father sold me to the Alpha of Blackmoor, he counted the gold twice.
One hundred gold coins.
That was all I was worth to him.
"Try to make yourself useful," he said, pocketing the last coin. "The Alpha needs an heir, and you have a rare gift. This is the best offer you'll ever get."
I stared at him. "You sold your own daughter."
"I secured your future." He straightened his jacket, avoiding my eyes. "Do you have any idea how many families would kill for a chance to serve the Alpha?"
"Serve him how?"
He gave me a look that suggested I was being deliberately stupid.
Before I could ask another question, the guards arrived to escort me away.
I had never met Alpha Kaelen, but I'd heard enough stories to know that Blackmoor's ruler wasn't a man anyone wanted to disappoint.
He was ruthless, proud, and utterly devoted to his pack.
Under his leadership, Blackmoor had become one of the strongest territories in the region.
There was just one problem.
The pack hadn't welcomed a newborn pup in years.
Some blamed the Moon Goddess. Others whispered about an ancient curse.
Whatever the reason, the elders were convinced that unless Kaelen produced an heir soon, Blackmoor would lose its place among the great packs.
And apparently, I was the solution.
By the time I reached the packhouse, I'd already decided that if this man expected me to fix a curse, he'd better have a very good explanation.
Instead, I was taken straight to his study.
Kaelen stood behind a massive oak desk, dressed in black from collar to boots.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and unfairly handsome in the cold, severe way of a winter storm.
His dark eyes settled on me. "Felicity?"
"Yes. That's me."
He glanced at the document in his hand. "Your name is Fertility."
I blinked. "No, it's Felicity."
He turned the paper toward me.
The registry clerk had apparently decided that one little letter was optional. Across the top of the official document, in neat black ink, was the word Fertility.
I stared at it.
Then I stared at him. "That's a spelling mistake."
"The registry was verified by the pack healer."
"Then your pack healer needs glasses."
His expression didn't change. "Do you understand why you've been brought here?"
"Because my father sold me for a hundred gold coins?"
His jaw tightened, but he ignored the question.
"Blackmoor needs an heir. The elders have given me until the next Blood Moon to demonstrate that the curse affecting our bloodline can be broken."
"And you think I'm going to break it?"
"The registry identifies you as a woman blessed with exceptional fertility."
I nearly choked. "I'm sorry. What?"
"You heard me."
"Alpha, I think there's been a mistake. My name is Felicity. F-E-L-I-C-I-T-Y. Happiness. Good fortune. Not Fertility. Babies have absolutely nothing to do with it."
For the first time, something shifted in his expression.
Not doubt. Annoyance.
"You expect me to believe that an official registry error has brought you to my door?"
"I expect you to read the actual spelling of my name!"
He set the document down.
"Your father accepted payment. The pack healer has reviewed your records. The elders are aware of your arrival. I will not dismiss this arrangement because you dislike it."
"I don't dislike it. I object to being mistaken for a walking baby factory!"
Silence filled the study.
Kaelen rose from his chair.
I immediately took one step back.
He noticed.
"I have no intention of hurting you," he said, his voice clipped. "But you will understand the responsibility you've been given."
"Given? I was sold!"
His eyes hardened.
"Your personal feelings don't change the situation. You will be provided with a room, food, and everything necessary for your stay. The healer will oversee your health, and the elders will expect regular updates."
"Regular updates about what? Whether I've magically produced an heir overnight?"
"Felicity."
"That's my name. Thank you for remembering."
His mouth became a thin line.
He reached for another document and slid it across the desk.
It was a schedule. A very detailed schedule.
There were healer appointments, meals, tonic doses, moon-phase observations, and consultations with the elders. Every hour of my day had been accounted for.
At the bottom, someone had written in bold letters:
[PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: SECURE AN HEIR BEFORE THE NEXT BLOOD MOON.]
I stared at the page. "You cannot be serious."
"Everything has been arranged."
"You've scheduled my entire life?"
"Until the matter is resolved."
"What if I refuse?"
"Then you may explain to the elders why you chose to jeopardize the future of an entire pack."
I looked at him in disbelief.
He wasn't even pretending to care what I wanted.
To Kaelen, I wasn't a person who had been betrayed by her own father. I wasn't a woman with a name, a history, or a future of her own.
I was a solution to a problem. And he had already decided what I was for.
A knock sounded at the door. A healer entered carrying a tray with a small glass bottle.
"Alpha. The first Moonroot tonic."
Kaelen nodded toward the table.
"Leave it there. Felicity will take it after dinner, according to the healer's instructions."
I eyed the dark liquid. "What does it do?"
"Supports your health."
"That's not an answer."
"It is the only one you need right now."
I folded my arms. "I'm not drinking anything until I know what's in it."
The healer looked uncomfortable. Kaelen looked irritated.
"You will have an opportunity to ask questions during your examination tomorrow," he said. "Until then, follow the instructions you've been given."
"And if I don't?"
He opened the study door.
"Then you may pray to the Moon Goddess that your stubbornness doesn't cost you more than your freedom."
I walked past him, furious enough to set the entire packhouse on fire.
At least, that was what I intended to do.
Then I saw the schedule still lying on the desk.
An idea occurred to me—if Kaelen wanted a woman who followed instructions, perhaps I could give him exactly what he wanted.
I picked up the quill beside his papers and added a note to the bottom of the schedule.
[Reminder: Before attempting to produce an heir, confirm that the Alpha can tell the difference between a woman and a spelling error.]
Then I added a smiley face.
Let him schedule that.
