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I laugh softly as I roll onto my back, letting the sunlight warm my face and closing my eyes; today feels bright, the promise of spring in the air.
"Delphine, come on. We need to clean up and head back to the pack house,"
"But Gre, can't we stay a little longer?" I whine, unwilling to leave. Playing and laughing with Gre is too much fun to end now. Once we get home, she'll have to return to her Luna studies.
"No, we've been out here for a few hours. It's time to go," she replies, beginning to pack the basket.
I pout, pushing out my bottom lip, looking at my sister pleadingly. "Pretty please, Gre?"
She pauses, dropping the containers as she turns toward me. Suddenly, she pounces, tickling me mercilessly.
"Gre! Stop!" I giggle, squirming to escape. "Oh no, you don't," she says, pinning me down and tickling my sides again.
"Are you going to behave and help me pack?"
"YES! S S S S S!" I squeal through laughter.
She blows raspberries on my stomach before finally letting me go.
I assist her in collecting everything, placing it neatly back into the basket. Once it's all packed, she takes my hand and leads me down the dirt path toward the house.
"Gre, what's that smell?" I wrinkle my nose; the scent is dreadful.
Without warning, a wolf leaps out, blocking our path and snapping its jaws threateningly. I scream as Gre pulls me behind her.
"You are trespassing on Ivory Fang lands! Leave now!"
The wolf growls menacingly, stepping closer. It lunges at us, but Gre strikes it hard in the side of the head, sending it tumbling and giving us a chance to run. She drags me along. I stumble, but she doesn't let go. Finally, she stops.
"Delphine, I need you to run down that path. It leads to the house. Go as fast as you can and find Mom and Dad."
There's rustling behind us.
"Go, Delphine. I'll lead them away," she urges.
"No, Gre, I can't!" I cry, trying to grasp her shirt. She shakes her head firmly. "No, Delphine, you have to run."
The wolf charges at us again.
Gre shoves me forward. "Go!" she yells, then turns to face the wolf, which tackles her to the ground. I freeze, unable to move.
She fights with all her strength, but she cannot shift yet. She's too young. The wolf clamps its jaw around her neck.
I scream, my gaze fixed on her. Its eyes meet mine, and it drops her lifeless body. She collapses to the ground.
The wolf advances toward me, but my focus remains on Gre Suddenly, it shifts, revealing a man I have never seen before. He crouches, examining me from head to toe.
"And who might you be?" he asks, reaching for me. I finally shake off my daze and slap his hand away.
"Oh, so feisty," he laughs, reaching again, only for me to push him away once more.
"Don't touch me!"
Amusement flickers across his face as he studies me. Then a loud howl echoes nearby. Relief warms me. I know that sound; it's my father, coming to save us. I listen as his paws approach.
"Looks like my time's up," the man says, rising. His hand moves in a blur; I never see it coming. Swiping in front of me, I wake with a scream, sweaty and gasping for breath.
"Delphine," I hear Mrs. Douglas's voice. "Shh, it's okay." She wraps her arms around my shoulders, sitting beside me.
I rest my head on her shoulder, attempting to slow my racing heart. It's the same nightmare I've endured since I was eight.
Running my hands over my face, I check for tears. Mrs. Douglas gently grasps my wrist.
"There's nothing, sweetie. You're not bleeding," she reassures me.
A soft glow signals the bedside lamp she has turned on.
"Same dream again?" she asks, her voice gentle. I nod, and she wipes my face with a tissue, brushing hair away.
"Everything alright in here?"
I hear my father's voice. I turn toward it, but see only a blurred figure.
"Yes, Alpha, just a dream. I'll help her get back to sleep," Mrs. Douglas replies.
"Good," he says, footsteps retreating.
"Here, lie back down, Delphine," she instructs, tucking the covers around me.
"Mrs. Douglas," I call.
"Yes, sweetie?"
"Could I have one of my pills? I don't think I can sleep without it tonight."
"Of course, let me get it."
I hear her moving, walking to the bathroom, and returning shortly.
"Here, sweetie, hold out your hand."
I obey. She places something in my palm; I feel it with my fingers and put it in my mouth. She guides a cup of water to my lips.
"Do you need anything else?" she asks, setting the cup on my stand with a soft clink.
"No, I think I'm fine now. Thank you, Mrs. Douglas."
"Sweetie, how many times have I told you it's just Douglas?"
"Sorry. I'll remember," I murmur.
She kisses my forehead, her footsteps fading as the door clicks shut.
I sigh, closing my eyes, hoping this time sleep brings happier dreams.
The alarm's beeping jerks me awake. Reaching over, I find it and press the top to silence it.
Finally, I flop back on the bed, muttering, ‘ugh, finally.'
After a few minutes, I swing my legs over the side.
"Ten steps to the door," I count as I move. Reaching it, I push it aside. "Two steps to the left." I navigate by touch to the toilet.
Completing my business, I use my hands and counting to move around the bathroom, take a shower, and reach my closet.
Feeling each tag and letting my fingers glide over the fabric, I select my clothes for the day. I brush my hair thoroughly before gathering it into a simple ponytail. I have no interest in elaborate hairstyles or fashionable clothing.
Appearance holds no significance here; no one in this house cares about how I look and certainly won't lift a finger to help me, even if it were the last thing they did. I am nothing but a blind, ineffectual person, burdened with the guilt of my older sister's death.
Yes, I am blind. My sight was taken from me when I was eight, attacked by a rogue alongside my sister on our way home from a picnic. She gave her life to protect me, and I lost not only my vision but also my family that day. They blame me entirely for Gre's death, insisting I should have done something to save her.
But I was only eight. I was terrified. How could I have helped her? I could not shift, and neither could she. Yet, my family found it within themselves to place all the blame on me.
Now, I am eighteen. I experienced my first shift last week on my birthday, an event my family ignored entirely, despite my father being the Alpha of this pack.
Instead, it was Mrs. Douglas and her husband, Giles, our butler, who guided me through it. Over the years, Mrs. Douglas has made it her mission to assist me, teaching me to navigate the house and count my steps. She even arranged for someone to teach me how to read and write. My father refused to allow me to attend school, so I have had a tutor for my studies.
Although they permit me to remain in this house, it is far from a true home. My parents barely speak to me unless absolutely necessary. My brother harbors nothing but hatred toward me, deliberately causing me to stumble, moving objects so I crash into them, or break something, then laughing as our parents scold me.
The only people who genuinely care for me are Giles and Mrs. Douglas.
Chapter 2
Delphine’s POV
Descending the steps, I hear the lively chatter of everyone gathered in the dining room. I never join them there, preferring the kitchen, where the omegas eat. At least they do not judge me or treat me differently.
"Ah, good morning, Delphine," Giles greets me, his voice always bright.
"Good morning, Giles. How is your morning going?" I reply.
Reaching the bottom step, I pause, keeping a hand on the railing. I can sense Giles nearby and catch the faint scent of his cologne.
"Very well, thank you. Here, let me," he says.
I feel his hand on my elbow. As I step down, he guides my hand into the crook of his arm.
"Thank you, Giles," I say.
"It is my pleasure, young lady," he responds.
He leads me to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast filling the air and making my stomach growl.
"Oh, it smells wonderful in here," he announces as we enter, causing giggles around us.
"Delphine, I saved you a seat over here," a girl calls, her hand brushing my shoulder as she approaches.
"Good morning, Jocelyn. How are you today?" I ask, recognizing her by her strawberry-like scent.
"Jocelyn, Delphine sits in the same spot every day. How did you save her a seat?" Mrs. Douglas interjects.
I laugh softly as Jocelyn scoffs.
"I was just being polite, Mrs. Douglas," Jocelyn replies, muttering something under her breath. "What was that?" Mrs. Douglas asks, prompting Jocelyn to answer, "Nothing."
Placing my hand on hers, I say, "Thank you, Jocelyn. I really appreciate it."
Happiness radiates from her as she smiles. "You're welcome," she says, tugging my hand gently.
I let her guide me to my seat, careful not to laugh aloud.
"You better go help Jocelyn. Don't want to get into trouble," I tell her, hearing her footsteps fade away.
"Here you go, my dear—freshly squeezed orange juice," Giles's voice says beside me, guiding my hand to the glass.
"Thank you."
A loud crash echoes from another room. Giles sighs and walks off, no doubt to clean up the mess.
"Your breakfast, sweetie," someone announces. The smell of blueberry pancakes fills the air.
"Thank you," I respond, pouring syrup over the pancakes and spreading it with my fork.
Voices rise in argument from the other room, or rather, shrieks. I immediately recognize Hestia, Dexter's girlfriend—not his mate, but his girlfriend for three years. She is likely responsible for the earlier crash. She enjoys throwing tantrums, confident that dating the Alpha's son allows her to get away with it.
The door swings open. "Douglas, my dear, can you redo these pancakes?"
"Redo them? Why?"
"Well, Hestia says they're too burnt for her to eat," comes the reply.
"Oh, she did, did she? I'm afraid I won't be redoing them. She can go hungry or cook something herself," Mrs. Douglas responds firmly.
I hear the plate being discarded. Mrs. Douglas is usually calm and easygoing, but Hestia brings out another side of her.
"No, dear, let's not have the Luna or Dexter come in because the princess is hungry," Giles says gently to his wife.
"That girl needs an attitude adjustment. I'm tired of this. She wastes more food than the pack consumes in a day," Mrs. Douglas mutters.
"I know, dear, but we cannot oppose the Alpha and Luna," Giles replies.
"Fine," she concedes.
"That girl is impossibly rude," Mrs. Douglas mutters again.
"I don't know what he sees in her. She fancies an ugly duckling," another voice adds.
I chuckle quietly, hearing others mumble their agreement. Hestia makes everyone's life miserable, constantly yelling at the staff or accusing them of attempting to flirt with Dexter. Her possessiveness is exhausting. I feel pity for his future mate when he finally finds her.
The dining hall falls into silence once everyone has completed their meals and departed to begin their day. Douglas and the rest head outside to begin cleaning up, leaving me by myself in the kitchen to finish eating my food.
I complete my breakfast just as his scent reaches my nose. "Dexter," I call out his name. His footsteps come to an immediate halt.
"I was instructed to tell you to go to Father's office once you are finished," he says, his tone carrying so much hatred. I used to flinch whenever he addressed me in that voice, but that is no longer the case. I have become accustomed to it.
"I will be there. Just allow me to finish taking care of my plate," I reply.
I rise and move around the table. I know this kitchen intimately—I know the location of every cabinet, every chair, even the stove and sink. I know precisely how many steps it takes to cross from one end to the other. Still, I should have been more cautious with Dexter present.
I catch my foot on a chair leg that is not positioned correctly, and I lose my balance. My plate slips from my hands and shatters the moment it strikes the floor.
A laugh escapes Dexter as he watches me. "So pathetic." His footsteps retreat as he leaves the room.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps approach, and the door hinges creak open.
"Delphine, are you alright?" Giles's voice is near. I feel his hand rest on my shoulder.
"Yes, I just misjudged a little," I answer as I lower myself, kneeling to feel for the broken pieces scattered on the floor.
"Careful, Delphine, you will cut yourself," he warns, gripping my wrist. "I'll clean this up. Why don't you continue with what you need to do?"
"Thank you, Giles," I tell him. He helps guide me carefully over the shards of the broken plate.
Using my hands, I orient myself out of the kitchen and make my way toward my father's office. He only ever summons me there when he is yelling about my uselessness or when I have supposedly broken something—though it is usually because Dexter has set me up like this morning.
"Fifty steps, then turn right at the end of the hall, then thirty steps to his office door," I repeat silently to myself.
I always count my steps and map out each turn in my mind. I do have a walking stick I normally use outside, but inside the house I rely on counting, along with memory of how everything looked before I lost my sight.
When I reach his door, I know I have arrived because his scent is strongest here—a woody, musky smell.
I knock and wait for him to speak; I never enter unless he tells me to come in. I made that mistake once, and I learned my lesson thoroughly.
After a few minutes, his voice finally comes. "Come in." His deep tone seems to press against my skin. I push the door open carefully, counting in my head as I move so I do not bump into anything that is not directly in front of him. I cannot afford to give him any reason to shout at me. He already believes I am weak, useless, and a waste of space—I do not need to reinforce that perception.
When I reach the chairs in front of his desk, I place my hand on the top of one chair's backrest.
"You wanted to see me, Alpha," I say. I call him Alpha because he told me I am no longer his daughter, and therefore I can no longer refer to him as my father.
"Yes. Sit down, Delphine."
I swallow hard. I sit—something he rarely ever allows. I carefully step around the chair, testing its position with the tip of my shoe before lowering myself into it.
"I called you here because the Summer Festival Ball is next week. I know you usually do not attend such events, but this year is different. I am being questioned about you, since no one has seen you at these gatherings. The King has sent me a letter stating that all ranked wolves must attend this year, and since you are my blood, you are required to go."
I swallow again. Me? Attend a ball? I have never even been to town, let alone something like a ball.
"Alpha, do you think it is necessary for me to attend? I have never been to one and would hate to cause any disturbance," I ask carefully.
He releases a low growl in response.
"You do not have a choice in this matter. My hand is being forced, and they will certainly send someone if you do not appear. I am not going to have my pack scrutinized because of you."
I lower my head. I may not be able to see him, but I know exactly how to submit.
"Yes, Alpha, I understand."
"Good. Now get out of my office. I am tired of looking at you."
"Yes, Alpha," I respond. I stand, trying not to stumble as I move quickly to leave. Once I step into the hallway, I exhale a breath I did not realize I was holding.
He always manages to bring fear to the surface within me. I know I should not be afraid of my own father, but the man inside that room stopped being my father the day Gre died.
Chapter 3
Delphine’s POV
Before I am even aware of it, the week passes in a blur, and the Summer Festival arrives. In just two days, no one was willing to assist me in finding a dress. I had no idea what I was supposed to wear, and I did not even know the dress code for the event. I am grateful for Mr. Douglas and Jocelyn.
I am not allowed to go into town. Mrs. Douglas attempted to persuade him to let me go dress shopping, but her efforts were ignored completely. He refused outright, so instead they selected several dresses and brought them back to the house for me to try on. I cannot see them clearly—I can perceive faint outlines of objects, but I cannot make out details.
However, I can feel things more clearly than most people. The softness of fabric, or its roughness, stands out to me. At times, I can even sense a color, though not the texture. I can imagine it as my hand moves across it. Even if I cannot see it with my eyes, I can still visualize it in my mind. It changes the way I experience everything. I do miss my sight, but I have learned to perceive the world differently.
There are five dresses laid out for me, and I choose the last one.
It feels soft against my skin, almost as if I am not wearing a dress at all. It has a slit along the side that rises nearly to my hip, and it fits me perfectly.
I stand relatively short for a wolf, measuring only five feet in height, not even a fraction above or below. I likely tip the scale at around a hundred and ten pounds when I am completely soaked and dripping wet. I have always remained on the smaller side. My mother once used to refer to me as her little bean. Now, I am no longer her little bean but instead a murderer.
I feel extremely nervous about attending, fully aware that they will assist me once I am there. I am capable of navigating on my own, yet I know absolutely nothing about the destination we are heading toward. I have never stepped beyond pack lands, let alone traveled to an entirely different pack, and it is the King's pack. No pressure involved there.
To make things even worse, Dexter is bringing Hestia along because she is the daughter of my father's Beta. Yes, specifically for me.
Hestia stands as one of my greatest sources of torment. She, along with what I call her little minions, constantly surrounds herself with, None of them is able to make a single decision without Hestia dictating what they should pick.
When Hestia learns that I am going to attend, she makes it very clear to me exactly how she feels about it.
My mother has not spoken to me at all, except to warn me not to embarrass them.
The day of the Ball finally arrives. Mrs Douglas and Jocelyn help me get ready. Jocelyn styles my hair while Mrs Douglas applies my makeup, for which I feel deeply grateful. If it were left to me, I would simply tie my hair into a ponytail and go natural. I do not think attempting eyeliner while being practically blind would turn out well.
"Oh Delphine, you look lovely," Mrs. Douglas says as she pulls me into a hug.
"She is right, Delphine, you do look good," Jocelyn compliments me.
"Thank you, both of you."
"Delphine, it is time to go!" Mother's voice echoes throughout the hall.
"Coming, Mother," I call back, making my way toward the stairs, descending one step at a time, carefully feeling for each next step. I feel a slight sense of relief once I reach the bottom.
Okay, now there are only twenty steps to the door. I can do this, Delphine. One foot placed in front of the other.
I count each step I take so that I do not end up running into the door. I already know they are not waiting for me. They are all outside in the car.
This is nothing unfamiliar to me. It is exactly why I have learned to rely on no one except myself.
I hear someone let out a sigh, "Ms. Delphine."
It is our butler, Nestor. "I see they did not wait for you again."
His hand rests gently on my elbow. "Here, allow me,"
He carefully places my hand into the crook of his arm. I hear the door handle click as fresh air touches my face.
"I am sorry, my dear," his voice is soft and low. Nestor is the kindest person. He has served as our butler for as long as I can remember, always showing me kindness, even when my family behaves harshly and ensures I am reminded that I am insignificant and pathetic.
"It is okay, Nestor, I am used to it by now," I reply, trying to hide the pain in my voice.
"No, miss, it is not okay. They ought to be ashamed of themselves."
"Delphine, you are always making us late! Hurry up, would you?" Dexter yells, followed by a snicker from Hestia.
I can hear Nestor grumbling beside me as I grip his arm. He leads me toward the vehicle and helps me inside. As the door shuts, I feel the car begin to move.
*****
Ambrose’s POV
"Ambrose, are you not ready yet?" my beta asks as he bursts into my room.
He throws his hands into the air when he notices me standing by the window. In truth, I am not looking forward to the ball, but my parents insist on holding it every single year. I see it as a complete waste of time, and I would rather be doing anything else.
"Dude, your mom is going to skin me alive if you do not get dressed and head downstairs."
I roll my eyes at him; he is always overly dramatic.
"Relax, will you? I am going."
I walk to my closet, grab my clothes, put them on, and step back out. I am not aiming for anything fancy; I choose casual instead. I refuse to sit there dressed in a stiff suit while listening to the same boring speeches and watching every girl try to get my attention.
"See," I say, spreading my arms, "I am ready."
As I walk toward the door, I slap him on the shoulder while he rubs his forehead.
"Your mom is going to kill me," he mutters. "Why can't you just do as they ask?"
"I am. I am attending this stupid thing, aren't I?"
He sighs. "Yes, but you could have dressed a little nicer. If your mom cuts my head off and buries me, I am coming back to haunt your sorry ass."
As I said, dramatic.
The ball has already started by the time I step through the doors. Everyone parts, splitting down the center of the room to let me pass. Girls giggle as I walk by. Some flash flirtatious smiles, while the men watch me closely, glaring if the girl beside them bats her eyes at me. It is not my fault they chose women who are not loyal to them.
This event is known as the Summer Festival Ball, and every ranked member attends. My wonderful mother has made me attend for the past three years; this will be my final one as I turn twenty-five this year. I have not found my mate.
She believes that by attending, I will eventually find my mate.
Not that finding my mate is a problem; I am not exactly great with people. My father is handing me the title next week. He is ready to retire. I have been handling most of the work already.
I take my seat, not wanting to engage with anyone. I cannot stand the way women throw themselves at me just because I hold power.
And the men only want friendship because of who I am.
Alphas bring their families forward and introduce them, making sure to push their unmated daughters directly in front of me.
Suddenly, a deeply intoxicating fragrance washes over me. My wolf becomes alert, whispering, "Mate," as I glance around while the aroma begins to fade away.
Rising to my feet, I begin to track it.
It draws me across the room and out through the side door into the gardens. Moving along the pathway, that is when I discover her. She is seated on a bench.
Her head jerks upward as she begins scanning her surroundings.
"Hello?" she calls out, her voice like music to my ears. She angles her face toward me. It feels as though I have been punched in the stomach, the impact stealing my breath.
Right across her eyes are three long scars. What in the world happened to her?
"Is someone there?" Her head turns from side to side.
"Move, you moron," my wolf comments inside my mind. He is not usually talkative. He prefers to stay back until he is required, though he can become unruly at times.
"I know someone is there."
How could she possibly know that?
"Our scent," my wolf drifts off again.
Taking a step closer, I speak, "Hello there."
Chapter 4
Delphine’s POV
I do not speak at all during the car ride. Hestia provides enough conversation for everyone, yet the girl never stops talking. I can feel my nerves tightening more and more as the journey continues.
"Now remember, Delphine, do not do anything to embarrass us," my mother says through gritted teeth.
"Yes, Luna," I respond, knowing I would receive a sharp slap to the head for failing to use her title.
"Yeah, Del, don't walk into any walls," Hestia snorts, causing them all to laugh.
"Enough!" my father shouts at them. For a moment, I think he is defending me, but to my surprise, he continues, "We are here. Now remember, do not do anything that draws attention to us."
"Yes, Father." "Yes, Alpha."
I feel the vehicle stop, followed by the sound of doors opening as everyone begins to get out. Feeling the seat with my hand, I slowly slide across, finding the door frame, when suddenly someone grabs my hand.
"Come along, Delphine," my father's voice is firm. Stepping outside, I smooth down my dress with one hand while my father still does not release my hand. He places it into the bend of his arm, and I freeze, my body tensing immediately. He never does this.
I feel him lean in closer.
"I do not want you falling and making us look disgraceful; I will escort you inside and seat you at a table where you will remain for the rest of the event. Do you understand?"
Nodding, I reply, "Yes, Alpha."
"Do not call me that here. You will address me as Father for tonight."
"I understand, Father." The words feel strange on my tongue. I have not called him that in years, but he needs appearances to be maintained here. He cannot allow them to see how things truly are between us.
He begins walking, and I am surprised to find his pace slower than I expect.
"There are three steps ahead. I will tell you when we reach the first step."
I nod again, feeling his pace slow further. "Step," his voice is very low. I search with my foot, find the first, then the second and the third.
I continue moving alongside my father as he leads me inside. I can immediately sense the change in the air once we cross the doorway. It feels thick and stale, mixed with countless scents that make me want to recoil. Even my wolf pulls back inside my mind, trying to escape the odors.
"Ah, Alpha Conrad, it is a pleasure to see you again."
A male voice filled with authority causes my father to pause.
"King Barnaby, it is a pleasure to be here." My father's tone is unusually warm, something he never sounds like, but again, appearances must be maintained.
I inhale sharply. The king is standing here with us.
"Who is this lovely lady?"
I hear a scoff behind me. "Lovely, ha," Hestia mutters.
"This is my youngest daughter, Delphine," he says, pulling my hand forward as someone takes it, which makes me flinch slightly.
"I am sorry, my dear. I did not mean to startle you. It is a pleasure to meet you; you have not attended any of these events before, have you?"
Clearing my throat, I reply, "It is okay, my King. It is a pleasure to meet you as well."
He gives my hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. "I hate to ask, Miss Delphine, but I notice you bear a severe scar across your eyes. Are you able to see?"
I feel my father's grip tighten around my hand. He dislikes hearing about my blindness, and if I answer yes, the king will begin asking how I received the scars.
"No, my King, I cannot see."
"How did you come to have such a scar on that beautiful face of yours?"
Again, I hear a snort behind me as someone kicks my leg lightly. I know it is Dexter.
"It was a rogue attack, King Barnaby. She had strayed too far into pack lands, and a rogue broke through our patrol lines," my father explains.
"Ah, such a shame. Was the rogue dealt with?"
"Yes, King Barnaby, he was."
I know that is a lie. He never located the rogue who killed Gre and took my sight, but he is not going to tell the king that. My father introduces him to everyone, and once the introductions are done, we begin walking again.
"Can you believe he called her lovely and pretty? I think he needs his eyes checked," Hestia says as they follow behind us.
"He was just being polite, right Dad?" This time Dexter speaks.
"I am sure he was. As King, he must show a certain level of kindness to his people, and calling out the unattractive ones does not look good for him," my father says as we walk, causing them all to chuckle, even my mother.
That stings a little. I know I am not their favorite, but they could at least act like I can hear them. I am blind, not deaf.
The sounds grow louder as we step into another room. My father drags me along beside him, not stopping until the screech of a chair scraping across the floor reaches my ears.
"Sit here," he orders, his hand pressing down on my shoulder as he forces me into the seat. I nearly miss the chair entirely because of how sharply he pushes me, not giving me any chance to orient myself or feel for it.
"You are not to move from this place. Do you understand me?" my father speaks right beside my ear, his warm breath brushing against my neck.
"Yes, Alpha," I whisper, fully aware the performance is finished. No one will hear me now.
I hear their footsteps fade away, and I release a breath I was holding. Leaning back slightly, I relax; at least I no longer have to endure their cutting remarks. I would rather remain alone than sit among them.
I am not certain how long I have been sitting here. I stay in place, listening to voices talking and music playing around me. I begin tapping my feet and fingers lightly in time with the rhythm.
At one moment, the entire room falls suddenly silent, though it only lasts briefly. Almost immediately after, the chatter and laughter resume again.
As people pass by, mostly girls, I catch fragments of their comments—how tragic it is that anyone has to be exposed to something as dreadful as me, or that I should have been left outside where I belong.
I simply keep my head lowered.
"You've heard worse, Delphine," I remind myself silently.
A chair being dragged beside me makes me flinch slightly, followed by a laugh. Of course—it is Dexter.
"You are completely useless. You cannot see, you cannot even tell when someone is right next to you. You are a weak link in this pack. I don't know why Father and Mother ever kept you. They should have gotten rid of you or killed you the moment you lost your sight. You bring nothing of value to the pack."
The smell of alcohol reaches me from his breath.
Tears try to rise, but I force them down. "Be careful, Dexter; you would not want anyone to see you speaking to someone like me, would you?"
He scoffs, and I feel him lean closer.
"It only shows I pity someone beneath me. They know nothing about you. I've attended these gatherings a thousand times, but you," he clicks his tongue, "still, don't worry—this will be your first and your last."
"What are you talking about, Dexter? God, why will he not leave me alone?"
"It means that once Father passes the Alpha title to me, you will be the first person I banish from this pack. You are weak and will only bring our downfall."
I shove him away from me, and he laughs as he rises and walks off.
I reach for my clutch and pull out my walking stick. Thankfully, Mrs. Gracce had insisted I fold it and keep it inside. Standing up, I move carefully through the room, not caring if I bump into anyone. I just need to get out of here.
To my surprise, I find myself outside. I walk along a stone path, and the scent of flowers fills the air. I follow it as it grows stronger. I must be close to a garden. When I bump into something metallic, I reach out and feel its cool surface in my hand. It is a bench. I sit down, and the tears finally fall. How can he be so cruel to me?
Maybe I should leave. I have money saved that my family does not know about. Mrs. Douglas helped me open an account a few years ago.
A crunching sound makes me snap my head upward.
"Hello."
Silence follows. Then a beautiful scent reaches my nose: blueberries.
I look around when I hear a small grunt.
"Is someone there?"
The blueberry scent remains. I can hear someone breathing. My wolf suddenly begins pacing inside my mind.
"I know someone is there," I say firmly.
Footsteps follow.
"Hello there."
Chapter 5
Ambrose’s POV
Her head turns sharply, her eyes scanning back and forth. I notice one eye is green while the other appears clouded; in that damaged eye, a scar runs straight through the center. Her other eye is also partially marked, the injury cutting into its corner and affecting her appearance.
"Hi," her voice carries clear fear. Is she afraid of me? "Mate, scared," my wolf whimpers. As I breathe in, I catch her fear—and something else? Salt. Is she crying?
"May I sit with you?"
"Oh, um, sure," she replies, sliding slightly to make space. I notice she has a folded stick tucked beside her. She lowers her head again, and I can sense her discomfort.
"My name is Ambrose. And you are?" I extend my hand. She looks up at me, and I am surprised that she seems to be looking directly at me.
Slowly, she raises her hand, reaching forward cautiously. I move mine closer, not grasping hers but allowing her fingers to brush mine.
"Delphine," she answers as her hand slips into mine. Sparks race up my arm at the contact. I hear her inhale sharply.
"Mate," she whispers. My wolf howls at the word, but she quickly pulls her hand away. "I'm sorry," she says.
I frown. Why is she apologizing?
"For what?" I ask, trying to reach toward her again. I want to hold her hand once more, to feel those sparks again, but she suddenly stands, grabbing her stick and backing away quickly. She bumps into the bench, circles it, and positions herself behind it.
I stand and move to face her directly. Is she trying to escape me?
"Is something wrong?" I ask her.
She shakes her head. "I…" she begins, then pauses. "I know what you must be thinking, and I understand. I'm ready."
"Ready for what?" I step closer. Her heartbeat is racing so fast I worry she might overwhelm herself.
"For you to reject me."
I stop completely. Reject her? Why would I do that?
"Why would I reject you?"
She shuts her eyes and says, "I know exactly what I must appear like. No one would ever want someone who looks like me, nor would anyone want a mate who is blind. I have nothing to give you; I am nothing except a burden to other people, a weakling who can do nothing at all for you."
I watch as tears fall from her eyes and her body trembles violently. I cannot stop myself. I rush forward, gripping her shoulders, and I feel her entire body go rigid beneath my touch.
"I am not rejecting you. You are my mate, the other half of me, given to me by the Moon Goddess. I would never even consider rejecting you."
She shakes her head. "Please don't make this more complicated. I cannot be what you need."
What has this girl gone through to hold such a low view of herself?
"Why do you believe you cannot give me what I need?"
"Look at me. Do you not see it? How could I possibly be a good mate to someone when I cannot even see?"
"I see a woman who stands before me as beautiful. I am a difficult man, Ms. Delphine. You are meant to bring softness into my life. I may have only just met you, but I can already tell you are a truly lovely person."
She lets out a sob. As more tears spill down her face, I feel her shoulders loosen slightly.
"Why don't we sit down again?" I take her hand and guide her back toward the front of the bench, letting her feel for the seat as she lowers herself down. I sit beside her and turn my body so I am facing her.
She fidgets with what I now recognize as a walking guide stick. Her heart is still pounding wildly.
"So, Ms. Delphine, is this your first time attending the summer festival ball?"
It must be, because I have never seen her before; I know she is around eighteen or nineteen.
"Yes," she says while wiping her cheeks. "I came here with my family."
"Who is your family?" Perhaps they are the ones who made her believe she is unworthy of a mate.
She looks uneasy as she twists her hand more tightly around the walking stick.
"Delphine, are you alright?"
"Um…" her leg bounces as her breathing quickens. A wave of fear radiates from her, heavy and overwhelming. My wolf pushes forward, thinking there is a threat nearby.
"Delphine, is someone hurting you?"
She shakes her head as more tears stream down her face. "I'm not supposed to—" she begins, but just then, "Delphine!"
She jumps in shock, nearly falling off the bench, clutching her stick tightly against her chest.
Chapter 6
I rise to my feet and spin around to see a man approaching us; my wolf growls, allowing him to come closer. The man immediately stops in his tracks.
"I am sorry, Prince Ambrose, I did not recognize you. I thought she was in danger."
"Who is she to you that you rush out here after her?"
"She is my daughter, sir. When I returned to the table, she was gone; I became worried. I followed her scent out here. I am sorry if she was in a place where she should not have been. I will take her back with me now."
He steps forward toward her. I let out a growl, and he halts as I gently pull her behind me. She is clearly afraid of him, the fear pouring off her in waves.
"I will escort her back inside."
"But sir, I am her father. She knows who I am. Delphine, tell him."
"I do not care if you are her father. I said I will escort her back inside. I will bring this up with my father once I return inside."
"I am sorry, but I do not understand. She is my daughter. I just want to take her home."
"Yes, and she is my mate. And I can sense that she is afraid of you. I do not know what caused her to be this way, but I will protect her from what she fears. Now return inside."
He does not move as his eyes remain fixed on Delphine, who stands behind me. When I growl again, it snaps him out of it, and he turns away, hurrying back up the path.
I turn back and look down at her. She is so small she barely reaches the bottom of my chest, and I notice she is wearing heels. She must be even shorter than she appears.
"Do you know that man?"
Her head nods. "Yes, he is my father," her voice shaking as she speaks.
"Delphine, does he hurt you?"
"I… can't… please, can we just go inside?" She breaks down, her whole body shaking violently.
I pull her into me. "Shh, it is alright. No one is going to hurt you." I hold her tightly, hoping my scent and touch will calm her.
Her body suddenly goes limp. Supporting her weight, I realize she has fainted. I lift her into my arms and grab her walking stick. Turning, I walk back down the path.
"Dad," I call through the link.
"Ambrose, I have been looking for you. Where are you?"
"I am outside; I have a situation." I glance down at my mate. I do not care about the scars. She is beautiful.
"What is the situation?"
"Well… I have found my mate."
"Oh, that is wonderful. Wait, why is there a problem? Oh god, Ambrose, she is not already mated to someone, is she?"
"No, Dad, she is not mated to anyone, but I believe she is being abused."
"What is her name?"
"Delphine. I do not know her last name. She passed out before I could find out."
"That is Alpha Conrad's daughter. I thought something was off when I met them earlier tonight."
"He should be coming back inside by now. He came looking for her, and she became so frightened she fainted. He was not happy seeing her with someone."
"Well, bring her inside. We will have someone examine her. Take her upstairs, and I will inform your mother."
He severs the link.
I make my way toward the front of the house, and my men notice me. They immediately move in my direction.
"Alpha?" They look at me, then at the girl in my arms, their gaze lingering longer than I find acceptable.
I release a low growl. "Do not stare at your Luna."
They instantly lower their eyes. "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."
"Get me the pack doctor. Send him up to my room."
"Yes, sir."
I walk through the front door and see my mother rushing straight toward me. I shift slightly to shield my small mate.
"Let me see her, Ambrose," she growls at me, her eyes flashing black.
The moment her gaze lands on the girl, her expression softens. "Oh, she is so pretty. Let's take her upstairs. Then we can have the doctor examine her."
"I already sent for him."
I hear shouting farther down the hallway, and I recognize that voice—it is Delphine's father. My mother presses against my back.
"Your father is dealing with it. Her father is not pleased about this and is demanding to leave with his daughter."
"He is not taking her," I grit out.
"No, he is not. Your father will not permit it. Now let us tend to your mate. Poor thing—she must be completely overwhelmed."
