The silver tray clattered against Eva’s palms.

Heavy.

Cold.

Six crystal goblets of thick, dark blood-wine wobbled on the polished surface.

The Grand Hall of the Blackwood pack house was deafening.

Hundreds of high-tier warriors roared, slamming their fists onto the long oak tables to celebrate the annual Omega banquet.

Eva kept her head low.

Her eyes remained pinned to the stone floor, avoiding the glare of the torches on the walls.

"More wine, slave!" a warrior shouted, thrusting his empty cup toward her face.

Eva stepped forward.

Careful.

Methodical.

She filled the cup, her posture stiff under the weight of her frayed servant tunic.

At the head table sat Alpha Killian Vance.

His dark gold hair caught the firelight, his broad shoulders filling out his heavy leather vest.

He was silent.

Untouchable.

Beside him sat Tanya Bennett.

The Beta’s daughter.

Tanya wore a pristine white wool dress, her fingers tracing the rim of her own crystal glass.

Cruel.

Manipulative.

Tanya’s eyes locked onto Eva as she approached the main platform.

"Oh, look, the little orphan is finally useful," Tanya murmured, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

Eva didn't look up.

She reached out to pour the blood-wine into Tanya's goblet.

Suddenly, Tanya’s silk-covered boot shot out from beneath the long table.

A deliberate trip.

Eva’s foot caught the edge of the leather heel.

Her balance fractured.

The silver tray tipped violently.

"Watch it—!" Eva gasped.

Too late.

The crystal goblets shattered on the stone floor, exploding into a shower of sharp, jagged shards.

The thick, dark crimson blood-wine splashed upward.

It soaked directly into the center of the Alpha’s priceless, white northern-wolf carpet.

A massive, ugly stain expanded across the pure white fur.

Like a fresh exit wound.

The roaring in the Grand Hall stopped instantly.

Dead silence dropped over the room.

The only sound was the crackle of the birch logs in the hearth.

Eva fell to her knees, her hands slamming directly into the broken glass to scramble for the pieces.

"I... I'm sorry," Eva whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. "It was... it was an accident..."

"You clumsy bitch," Tanya snapped, standing up so fast her chair scraped hard against the stone.

Tanya looked down at her stained hem, her face twisting into a mask of pure rage.

"Look at what you did! Killian, look at her!"

Killian Vance didn't move.

His jaw locked into a hard, rigid line, his gold eyes staring down at the crimson ruin on his carpet.

He didn't speak.

He didn't have to.

The dominant Alpha aura in the room spiked, a suffocating pressure that forced the lesser Omegas in the corners to drop their foreheads to the floor.

"Clean it up," the Chief Beta barked from the side, his hand resting on his dagger hilt. "With your tongue if you have to."

"No," Tanya interrupted, her voice shifting, a sharp, malicious glint entering her eyes. "She did this on purpose. She hates this pack."

Tanya leaned closer to Killian’s shoulder.

"She’s throwing a tantrum because it’s her eighteenth birthday and nobody cares. She’s an outcast."

Eva felt a sharp piece of crystal gouge deep into her right palm.

Blood welled up.

Bright red.

Hot.

It mixed with the dark wine on the floor.

But then, beneath the surface of her skin, something shifted.

A strange, internal heat flared.

The deep cuts on her palms began to tingle.

Before the blood could even drip onto the stone, the torn flesh began to knit back together.

The deep gashes left by the wine-glass shards closed up.

Smooth.

Flawless.

Within seconds, her skin healed completely, leaving no scars behind.

Eva squeezed her hands into tight fists, hiding her palms inside the folds of her apron before anyone could see.

Total despair turned instantly into survival mode.

Her mind cleared, her INTJ brain instantly calculating the severity of the threat in the room.

Killian finally stood up.

His massive 195cm frame cast a long, shadow over the platform.

He looked at the Enforcers standing by the heavy oak doors.

"Get her out of my sight," Killian said, his voice flat, completely stripped of any warmth.

"Killian, please..." Eva muttered, her voice dropping into a desperate whisper.

"Drag her out," the Chief Beta ordered, gesturing to the guards. "The western courtyard. Let the storm teach her some discipline."

Two heavy-set Enforcers stepped forward, their iron-plated boots thudding against the stone.

They grabbed Eva by her upper arms, lifting her off her feet.

"Wait—stop! Let me go!" Eva thrashed, her boots kicking uselessly against their shin guards.

They dragged her backward down the long aisle of the Grand Hall.

The high-tier warriors watched in silence, some of them smirking into their ale cups.

Tanya stood on the platform, her fingers curling around Killian’s arm as she watched the extraction.

The heavy front doors of the pack house groaned open.

Outside, a raging northern blizzard screamed through the dark pines.

The freezing mountain wind rushed into the hall, blowing out the smaller candles.

The Enforcers threw Eva forward into the deep snow.

She slid across the ice, her bare knees scraping against the frozen gravel of the courtyard.

"Stay out here until the Alpha decides what to do with you," the guard spat.

Eva scrambled back toward the threshold, her fingers reaching for the iron handles.

"No! Please! It’s freezing—!"

SLAM.

The massive iron-studded gates shut directly in her bleeding face.

The heavy brass bolt slid into place with a definitive, metallic click.

Locked out.

Alone.

The sub-zero wind tore through her thin cotton tunic, freezing the moisture on her eyelashes instantly.

Eva curled into a tight ball against the cold stone foundation of the gate house.

Her body trembled violently, her teeth chattering so hard her jaw ached.

She reached inside her small apron pocket, her numb fingers desperately clutching a round, heavy object.

Her eighteenth-birthday token.

An old, unyielding silver disc engraved with ancient, weathered runes.

It was the only thing left from her family estate.

The silver felt like ice against her skin, but she squeezed it until her knuckles turned white.

"Just survive," she whispered to herself, her breath forming a thick cloud of white mist in the dark. "Just... survive..."

The wind howled louder, burying her boots in the drifting snow.