Marked by Mistake: His Son, Her Revenge

The Engagement

Camilla's POV

Father summoned us, my twin sister and me, to the sitting room. He said he had important news to announce.

Now we waited.

The air in the room was tense with anticipation. Caroline and I sat side by side on the old wooden bench, backs rigid. The only sounds were the crackle of the lantern flame.

Caroline tapped her long fingers against her thigh, impatient. I sat still, nervous, staring at the dancing flame of the lantern in front of us.

We shared a face. But where she was a crackling torch, I was the still water beneath. Our difference is as stark as night from day.

The door opened, and the air shifted. Our father, Jack—respected warrior and second-in-command to Alpha Michael—entered the room. Decades of pack leadership were etched into his stance.

His silver hair was combed back, and though age was slowly settling into his features, his gaze was as steady as ever.

He closed the door behind him and cleared his throat.

“You’ve both grown into beautiful women,” he began, his voice deep and steady. “And I’m proud of the daughters you’ve become.”

My breath caught. This was no ordinary praise.

He looked straight at me.

“Alpha Michael has made his choice. After the last full moon gathering, he came to me privately… and asked for your hand, Camilla.”

My heart stilled. Caroline turned to look at me in shock.

I blinked. The world narrowed to the pounding in my ears. “Mine?”

“Yes,” Father nodded. “He has seen the way you carry yourself—calm, loyal and intelligent. He believes you will be the perfect Luna to stand beside him.”

Caroline’s intake of breath wasn’t subtle. She shot to her feet.

“You must be mistaken,” she said quickly. “Michael and I have always had a connection. I thought—he flirts with me. Everyone sees it.”

Father turned toward her, frowning. “He flirts with many. But it is Camilla he wants, and his word is final.”

A hollow ringing filled my ears. My mouth opened, but no words came. My fingers trembled in my lap. This… this wasn’t something I expected. I admired Alpha Michael. He was strong, wise beyond his years, and charming in the way a future ruler should be.

I had dreamed of being a Luna one day—but I had never believed it would come so soon or like this.

Caroline’s green eyes turned to me, burning. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” I whispered honestly. But the truth felt feeble.

She scoffed. “Of course not. You just sit there, quiet and good, and have the world handed to you, don’t you?”

I flinched.

“Enough,” Father snapped. “This is an honor, Camilla. Alpha Michael’s formal announcement will be made tomorrow night at the Gathering Hall. Be ready.”

He left no room for argument. Caroline shot me a last, scorching glance before striding out.

I remained seated, my heart pounding like the rhythm of a distant drum. I wasn’t sure if it was fear… or something else.

The next day, our pack buzzed with excitement. Whispers followed me through the training field and markets. Some looked at me with admiration, others with envy.

I tried to block it all out, focusing instead on the ceremony that awaited me.

At the hands of our elder women, I was adorned in a flowing white dress that shimmered like the moonlight itself. They painted soft patterns of silver across my shoulders and arms, and wove tiny beads through my hair.

I looked into the mirror when they were done, and barely recognized the woman I saw—she looked like a Luna.

But inside, I felt like a scared little girl.

The ceremony was held in the Great Hall, a circular, open-roofed structure where pack rites had been performed for generations. The moon hung directly above us, watching.

Alpha Michael stood at the center of the hall, dressed in ceremonial black with silver embroidery.

His gaze held mine as I approached on my father’s arm, a look of approving, intense, and profound possession.

He looked pleased, proud. As if I were his prize.

When we stood side by side, the elder began the ritual. I barely heard the chants—my mind floated, stuck between the disbelief of it all and the weight of what it meant.

I will be marked tomorrow.

I will belong to him.

The marking ritual will be sacred. The bite on the neck would bind our souls in a way that not even death could sever. Once done, there would be no going back.

As the elder spoke the final rites, Michael leaned closer, brushing my hair aside.

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured into my ear. “I can’t wait to make you mine.”

Something in his tone made my skin tighten. There was hunger there, yes—but also arrogance. Possession. I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond.

The crowd cheered as the elder declared the ritual complete. Michael’s hand closed around mine, firm and inescapable. He raised our joined hands high. A fresh surge of applause erupted, shaking the very stones of the Great Hall.

He led me into the heart of the celebrating pack. Faces blurred around me—smiles wide, eyes glinting with curiosity. Hands reached out to pat Michael’s shoulder, to offer me congratulations that I answered with a numb smile and a nod I hoped looked gracious.

Michael drank freely from every offered cup, his laughter booming, his pride palpable. “To my perfect Luna!” he declared again and again, drawing me close.

I floated through it all. The laughter and music felt muffled, as if I were underwater.

As the night deepened and the revelry grew drowsy, Michael finally released me. His eyes were glazed with drink and satisfaction. He leaned in, his breath warm and smelling of mead. “Until tonight, my beautiful luna,” he murmured. “Go. Prepare for me. I will come for you.”

He pressed a final, claiming kiss to my forehead before he was swept away by a group of his warriors, their boisterous talk of the coming marking ritual following them into the night.

The elder women led me to the Alpha’s quarters and bathed me in water scented with night-blooming flowers. I moved like a doll while my soul felt detached.

Finally alone. The mark was hours away. The bond was hours away. He was hours away.

But that’s where it all went wrong.