Chapter 1

"Is Prince Reagan discovered yet?" Mr. Fuller posed this query to the attendants who dashed in his proximity, their visages glowing pink in the brisk nighttime air.

"Not yet, we've been scouring—"

"Unfound?" He cut off one of the young women who seemed as though she might swoon. "By heavens! What is his whereabouts? The matrimonial ceremony commences in a short half hour!"

Mr. Fuller held the esteemed position of Head of Servants at the opulent Royal Palace. He strained at his delicate collar, as though the overwhelming pressure made it difficult to breathe. "What reason do you have to approach me? Maintain your efforts to search the estate!"

"Of course, Mr. Fuller." The staff members hurriedly dispersed in diverse directions.

On the day of the matrimonial union between Crown Prince Charles Baldwins and Lady Helena Sinclair,it was evident that this event signified much more than a mere wedding. It represented the solidification of a powerful alliance between the esteemed Royal House Baldwins and the formidable Warrior House Sinclair.

The influential House Sinclair shared ruler-ship over half the realm with House Baldwins. No individual had ever possessed the audacity to defy the Sinclair clan, not even the indomitable Alpha King George himself. Luna Queen Amelia, the daughter of the former Alpha of the Sinclair Pack, had strengthened their alliance through her own nuptials. Consequently, the Sinclair Pack assisted King George in securing his royal position.

The forthcoming union between Lady Helena and Prince Charles would serve to maintain the influence of the Royal House. Hence, Alpha King George insisted that all royal families attend the wedding, demonstrating their utmost reverence.

Even Prince Louis, the fourth successor to the throne, had returned from his military duties to partake in the festivities. However, Prince Reagan had always exhibited a more rebellious nature – never one to adhere to convention.

Mr. Fuller cautiously glanced into the hall, silently beseeching that no one had detected Reagan's absence thus far. However, his hopes were dashed when his gaze met that of the Luna Queen.

The chilling expression she bestowed upon Mr. Fuller made him shudder more intensely than the frigid air outside had managed to do. As the sky had ominously darkened since their quest commenced, he was acutely aware that this debacle would become the primary topic of the evening's whispered conversations unless resolved swiftly.

"Why are you all idling there?" Mr. Fuller barked at the nearest cluster of attendants as he pivoted away from the entrance. Their complexions turned ashen as he closed the distance between them. "Locate Prince Reagan without delay! Incompetent omegas and humans alike, should he remain undiscovered, the consequences shall be borne by each of you!"

"At once, sir!"

--

As an omega maid, Bella had been in service at the Palace for half a decade. Never once had she been permitted to venture beyond the palace grounds. She was, in essence, a captive to those who ranked above her. All she ever yearned for was freedom. As long as she managed to avoid any grave errors, she could be liberated in the near future.

Bella knew she should have remained indoors to assist the other servants with the festivities. However, she let her mind drift just enough to find herself isolated in the gardens.

For a fleeting moment, she fancied herself a mere visitor of the castle—someone attending the celebration who could arrive and depart at will. She couldn't envision ever returning if granted the opportunity to leave, but indulging in the fantasy was enjoyable on a night filled with romance.

Quickening her pace, Bella retraced her steps along the path from which she had strayed. Being discovered here would be unwise, as she wasn't authorized to be anywhere unless explicitly instructed. Particularly outdoors—

A guttural growl shattered her reverie, and Bella's footsteps halted abruptly. The sound seemed to reverberate from all directions, leaving her uncertain which way to turn.

"My…mate…" The heated breath grazed her nape as the words were whispered from behind her. She reacted too sluggishly to prevent the man from forcing her onto the dewy grass. Bella's scream rent the night air.

"My…mate!" He bellowed as he pinned her to the chilly earth, his identity obscured by darkness. She writhed beneath him, attempting to shove him away. His grip was unyielding and coarse as he restrained her wrists above her head with one hand. The stench of alcohol permeated the air as he murmured the word repeatedly into her ear.

"I don't—" Bella gasped when her maid's attire was shredded effortlessly, leaving her nearly exposed in her undergarments. She struggled in vain against his grasp, the frigid air biting her bare flesh. Bella couldn't comprehend what he meant by "mate."

She was 21 years old. Most werewolves underwent their first transformation by the age of 14. However, her wolf had never manifested, and she had never heard its voice as other werewolves could. Consequently, it was impossible for her to have a mate—this man was evidently inebriated and had targeted the wrong girl.

"Please don't—" Bella's plea was cut short by a cry of pain as his teeth fastened onto her neck. He bit down without hesitation, as though claiming her in that instant for all eternity.

The surge of pain gradually subsided as he tenderly kissed the mark he had just inflicted upon her skin. Her eyes fluttered open at the sensation.

A searing heat engulfed her entire body as he trailed his lips down her neck, pausing only to explore the curves of her breasts.

Gooseflesh erupted on her skin under his touch. Her breath grew rapid, and she noticed him tilt his head toward her in the darkness, as if attuned to her every subtle sound.

His unoccupied hand caressed her breasts where his mouth wasn't. She felt repulsed by herself—

"Oh!" Bella endeavored to suppress her moan and flushed crimson when she failed to conceal her reaction to the man who had assaulted her. She hadn't realized her body was so sensitive to touch in certain areas—even at the hands of a brute like him.

Bella knew she didn't want this, but her body arched toward his touch, betraying her mind. The shame that enveloped her seemed only to embolden him.

His coarse hand glided along her body's contours, undoubtedly sensing the warmth he had ignited beneath her skin. The man leaned in to murmur the same word into her ear that he had repeated numerous times before—a word that only served to bewilder her further. "Mate…"

"Please, I'm not—"

The sound of approaching footsteps abruptly halted his meandering touch. He rose, and for the first time, the moonlight illuminated his visage sufficiently for her to identify her assailant. Disbelief gripped her—

"Prince Reagan!" The voices exclaimed. The attacker was none other than Prince Reagan himself!