In an old Victorian house that sat upon a sloping hill on the outskirts of town, a light resonated inside one of the rooms. The soft glow of the light illuminated the bedroom chambers, sending a ray across the expanse of the bed. As shifting movement came from within the boundaries of the canopied bed, sending the gauze drapes and blankets off to the side.

Giving anyone who had dared to enter the bedroom unbidden a chance to see beyond the boundaries of gauze tapestries. In the center of the bed lay a young girl with skin of pale cream, blackish blue hair fell down in waves. Though her eyes were closed at the moment during the midst of dreams, when opened they were the most beautiful eyes. Two tones of soft lilac and glittering purple. She had the tiniest of frames that barely topped four feet tall; she barely weighed a hundred pounds while soaking wet.

Twelve year old Netayah Greystone shifted uncomfortably in the center of her bed, kicking the blankets off in the process. Though she was better known by the nickname of Tay to all of her friends and family. And there were so many of those, as all were going on about. Tay had a life that few others could ever imagine to be possible. Having been born into the Black Bear pack—one of the most elite werewolf packs to be found in Shinndorrah—descended from a long line of Beta wolves.

"Netayah!," a voice called out.

Shifting uncomfortably in the center of the bed, fighting against the urge to arise from her dreams. Exhausted from the hassles of the past few days, Tay didn't want to wake up from the land of dreams. Dragging the thick comforter over the top of her head, blotting out the encroaching light, Netayah slipped back into sleep. The dream beckoned her closer.

"Netayah," the voice came again. "Time to wake up."

Groaning in frustration when the person seemed persistent in waking her, the comforter was flung away from her. "What?"

"Wake up," her mother ordered.

Coming to understand that sleeping in today was out of the question, the thick blankets were pushed further away. Biting back the snappy retort that sought to be torn from her lips, Netayah slowly lumbered out of bed. Aware that when it came to her mother, there was no hope of her being able to slip back asleep. When Abbigail Greystone wanted something, no matter how it affected others, that's precisely what happened.

"Netayah!," she grew louder.

"I'm up, mother," Netayah raised her voice only loud enough to be heard at a distance, without sounding disrespectful. The last thing she wanted to do was irritate her mother, that'd definitely bring more problems.

She'd barely had the chance to send out assurances of her wakefulness, when her bedroom door came open. Then in walked the graceful beauty of Abbigail, forever the typical socialite, an air of superiority around her. Abbigail twirled around as she came to stand before the double-wide French windows, hands clasped together. "It is wise of you to get dressed. You have a very busy schedule."

"Why?" she asked. Netayah couldn't begin to comprehend what could be so pressing, she was forced out of bed so early. Lessons with Daddy weren't until this weekend, and her etiquette lessons wouldn't resume until Monday.

Her mother narrowed eyes on her. "Netayah Amethyst, do not get that attitude with me. With your awakening only two days away, there are things to be learned before you're embraced into the pack. You wouldn't want to bring embarrassment onto our family on the day of her induction."

Oh no, that would never do, at least when it came to her family. The Greystones were all about attaining the appearance of perfection, grace and elegance. Especially when it came to her mother. Abbigail Greystone was determined that no embarrassment be brought to the family, to give the outlook of superiority. Royalty. Just like her. None of the Greystone's would allow anything of the kind that could happen, that could have people look unfavorably on them.

"You are a descendant of one of the most notable bloodlines," her mother began reciting the same old lecture of the family history, as if this would compel her to understand the importance of their bloodline.

Yes, their bloodline was something to truly marvel at. At least when it came to her father's side of the family tree, her mother's hadn't been that special. In fact, her parents had acted as the beta for Alpha Darius, as all the people in her family have, something that was akin to royalty in her world. Being the daughter of the alpha's betas had come with quite a few perks, as everyone absolutely adored the girl, so many friends to call her own and every male hoped to be the one mated to her when her time came.

Even the alpha's son Garret--the future ruler of their pack when his father finally stepped down--hoped to be the one mated to the girl. If people's suspicions were to be believed Garrett had his eye on her for several years now. Not even the age difference had interfered with his hopes that one day the two of them would be bound as mates. Though it was rumored that Garret had arranged an alliance with her parents and his father, then he'd wish to take her on as his chosen Luna.

Actually, it wasn't a rumor. At least when it came to her. It'd only been last week when her parents had sat her down, electing it was time for them to have a private talk. Considering the day of her own awakening was upon her, it was high time she understood her responsibility. It was then that her mother informed Netayah that an alliance was made between them and Alpha Darius.

Sitting in the den before her parents, listening to her mother, Netayah was astonished at the confession she'd made. At the reality that the rumors among the pack weren't rumors at all. At the knowledge her parents had made a secret alliance with Alpha Darius long before, that reshaped her future. Upon her induction into the pack then she'd go through the naming rituals, for a chosen mate. One that was already decided. Garrett. Garrett was destined to become her mate, as her parents and Alpha Darius decreed it was best for the both of them.

Though she'd always adored Garrett, having always been good to her, she'd been aghast at the decisions they'd made. Netayah had always dreamed about one day finding her true mate, the soul created for her by the goddess. All her life she'd heard so much about the undeniable bond that fated mates experience, the deep love and bond. She'd wanted that too. Only it'd never be. Alpha Darius had his eye set on her for many years now for the mate of his son and now it was time for her to fulfill her part.

"Yes, mother," she agreed. "I will do my part."

"Good girl," Abby preened.

Her mother sailed out of the bedroom then, confident her daughter wouldn't prove to be a disgrace. She never was. Netayah had spent all her life trying to live up to the expectations of her parents, to be the daughter everyone believed she was. And hoped that on the day of her own Awakening, Netayah would finally meet their approval.

Two more days, she told herself.

Netayah anxiously looked forward to her thirteenth birthday, a raw bundle of nerves, as that would be the day that she too would receive her wolf. Aware that when her wolf finally made an emergence then she would be put in the House of Cards, to officially start her training as a Beta. Granted Netayah had been training with her father since she was a little girl, honing heightened skills she already had, she couldn't officially until her coming of age.

It was almost here, she thought to herself in the days leading up to her birthday, bursting with excitement at the life mapped out for her. Knowing that on the rising of the next full moon, she would enter into the Glade of Moon, stand beneath the glow of the goddess and be awarded her own wolf.

Only it wasn't to be.

Two days later Netayah awoke earlier than usual, there was an uncomfortable sense gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Groaning in frustration when it felt like a hard stone in her stomach, that almost churned and twisted sickeningly. A hand clenched her stomach. Oh my goddess, she didn't feel good.

That same pit in her stomach grew heavy by the minute, weighing her down with a sense of impending doom she didn't fully understand. All of her heightened senses warned her that something was wrong, feeling the dark aura that surrounded her, with a sense of foreboding she didn't understand.

What was wrong? Why did she get the sense that something bad was going to happen?

Throughout the day as she socialized with her family and visited with her friends, Netayah couldn't shake the feeling from the pit of her stomach. The closer that it came to her heading out to the ceremony the worse the feeling became, she grew frightened of the outcome of the night.

It will be okay, Tay, she tried to give herself a pep talk in the silence of her mind, there is absolutely nothing for you to worry about, it's just nerves. Her own overactive imagination getting the best of her.

Only it wasn't nerves, as she was soon to realize.

Dressed in the beautiful white muslin gown that her mother had chosen for the ceremony, her blond curls haloed around her, she went to the glade. Standing in the very center of the glade, feeling the glow of the moon it shined down on her, Netayah anxiously awaited for her wolf to emerge. Knowing that when the moon reached the highest peak in the sky, the magic would bring her wolf forth. And then finally, when the two halves of her soul were melded as one, Netayah would emerge a member of the pack.

Only it never did.

Long hours ticked by with Netayah standing underneath the light of the moon, the sickening churning in the pit of her stomach. When her legs grew tired she lowered to her knees on the ground, taking in the calm of the atmosphere. All the while she thought about the future that loomed ahead, but her wolf never came to her. The longer she waited the more anxious she became, Netayah fearful of what this could mean for her.

When the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon with the change never coming, Netayah dropped to her knees in the moist earth. Oh goddess, she hadn't changed. Her wolf hadn't shown itself. Fat tears of anguish poured down her beautiful face, sobs wracking her tiny frame, anguished at the horrible fate that had befallen her tonight. Netayah was a member of five of the most powerful werewolf packs in existence, descended from a bloodline seeped in Beta blood, but she remained wolfless.

Frozen from the chill of the winter air, numbed by the pain of her own terrible fate, Netayah made her way home knowing she'd never be the same. She was right.

Four years later….

The roosters hadn't even managed to crow the crack of dawn when upstairs at the Greystone residence a young girl instantly snapped awake. Slithering out of bed as the eternal alarm clock registered that it was nearly five in the morning, further proof of her need to be up for the day.

Feet touching almost silently on the freezing cold floor of her bedroom, Netayah made her way through the darkened chambers. All the while failing to turn on the lamp. There really wasn't any need for that, as her eyes slowly adjusted in the darkened chambers. Super heightened vision allowed her to see in the shadows. Night vision had always been a highly revered and coveted ability among all the packs. As there were very few people that had ever acquired the ability, only the most noble and powerful had.

Netayah was only the sixth person in history among the Black Bear pack that had been entrusted this ability by the Moon Goddess. As far as she knew anyway. And when it came to the other packs even less warranted the ability, as there were eleven in total. When this ability alone should have been enough to make the members of her pack envious, as it was so envied, it seemed to do the exact opposite.

It'd been nearly a year since Netayah had unintentionally alerted people to the unique ability she'd been born to, which hadn't had the desired effect. Netayah shuddered at the memory of what had happened when it had been discovered, the humiliation and shame that she'd endured. Despite it having been three years since the horror of her awakening and the horrible curse placed upon her, things in her pack hadn't gotten any better.

Just as she'd expected to be the outcome when Netayah had finally returned home, upon confessing what had transpired in the glade, her life had never been the same. Goddess help her, how did this happen to her? Why was she the one forced to suffer? To endure all the cruelty that'd been bestowed upon her?

Having no desire to anger anyone for her tardiness, Netayah hurriedly dressed for the day ahead. Outfitted into a pair of slick black leggings and the same color spaghetti strap top. Her hair was then pulled into a ponytail and she slipped on some shoes.

Stalking out of her bedroom once she was dressed for the day Netayah quietly made her way downstairs, being sure not to disturb the rest of her family. Neither her brother nor older siblings would be thrilled if she thought to make any noise that awoke them from their sleep, forcing her to bear the brunt of their anger. As they were always telling her they were betas, meant to assist the alpha in his ruling and protect the pack. Which couldn't be accomplished if they were too exhausted to think.

Remembering the last time she'd accidentally woken one of them from their sleep, she tiptoed down the stairs and then towards the back of the house. Relieved when none of them hollered out in anger, proof she didn't have anything to worry about, Netayah focused on her morning chores. Although the kitchen wasn't dirty she proceeded to wipe down every surface to be found, the scent of cleaning supplies engulfed the room. It failed to matter that she'd cleaned the room only the night before, if she was lax in her duties her mother would be sure to show her displeasure.

When she'd ensured that both the kitchen and dining room were once again sparkling clean, Netayah then turned her attention to breakfast. The grandfather clock in the living room announced it was seven in the morning when she heard the commotion from upstairs, proof the others were waking. Hurriedly rushing around the room at the knowledge the rest of the family was up for the day, determined that everything would be ready for their arrival.

As she heard the first creak of the staircase the table had been completely set, loaded down with pancakes, sausage, and bacon, three kinds of syrup and fresh butter. Breakfast having come a lot faster this morning than usual, that'd hopefully keep her out of trouble. Netayah was at the counter preparing a fresh pot of coffee, knowing her father and brothers would demand it, when she heard the noise behind her.

"Well if it isn't the ugly duckling," her sister Serina, older than her by three years at the age of nineteen, sneered evilly at her little sister as she sauntered into the kitchen. "No wonder you don't have a mate with a face like that. You should be ashamed of yourself."

Netayah failed to respond to the cruel taunts she received from her sister, though she did look at herself in the reflection of the window. Ugly Duckling was one of the many nicknames that her siblings had elected to heap on her head the last couple of years. All in the vain hopes of humiliating and shaming her, to prove her to be the disgrace that she was. Honestly, Netayah didn't understand the connection between the name and her, as far as she could tell she wasn't as ugly as her sister claimed.

Despite she was far smaller than the other members of her family at barely five foot even and no more than a hundred bounds wet, that was the extent. She had been born with curls that were starting to go more white than blonde that framed an oval face, a set of pert full lips and almond-shaped purple eyes. Netayah knew from quick glances at herself that she had a perfect hourglass figure, with C-cup breasts that thrust high and a nicely rounded backside.

Netayah wasn't a vain person. Far from it to be truthful. Personally, she didn't see anything awe-inspiring, but judging by the way male eyes followed her she had to be attractive. Even knowing the shame and disgrace that she was to her family, and the pack, those eyes followed her everywhere during her time away from the house.

She bowed her head, “I'm sorry my sister, I will do better."

A cruel hand shoved at the back of her head causing her forehead to smack against the edge of the cabinet, snickering laughter emerged. "Don't you dare call me that, you are too much of a disgrace to ever be my sister."

“Yes, Serina,” she said obediently. As Serina walked off to head to the table she focused on pouring the coffee into the required mugs. Determined this morning everything would be perfect. Loading down the tray with the morning coffee for the males of the family, Netayah hefted it into her arms and headed to the dinner table.

Only the next arrival wasn't paying attention to where they were going, running their body right into hers. Before Netayah could regain her footing, she lost her balance and upset the tray of coffee. She was forced to bite back the scream of pain as steaming hot coffee splashed all over the front of her shirt, then more down her arms, bringing blisters to the surface.

“Ugg, you brat, look what you've done!" Andrew Greystone sneered in derision at the teenage girl standing before him, his large beef hands angrily pushing her out of the way. “Watch where the fuck you're going, leech, you got coffee all out of me and now I have to go get changed again.”

Netayah shuddered in terror as the man walked out of the kitchen, knowing he'd make her pay for daring to get his clothes dirty. Out of all the members of the family, Andrew was the worst of them. At twenty-three he deemed everything had to be perfect and anything less than that was shameful. If Andrew had his way about it then when her disgrace was discovered, she would've been thrown out of the house, banished and disavowed by the family.

It failed to matter to him that this morning's fiasco wasn't her fault, he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going, she was automatically responsible. Ever since her failed awakening, everything and anything that had gone wrong with the family, both inside and out of the house, was her fault. Netayah was a curse upon the world, thereby her mere presence cursed them too, bringing all the ilk of the world.

One time Netayah even thought of informing them of such a shameful disgrace and powerless Greystone, they seemed to think she had a lot of power. Of course, she had thought better of letting that glib taunt tumble out of her mouth, aware the repercussions wouldn't have been pretty. It never was when she thought to talk back to them.

Pushing aside her wandering thoughts Netayah dropped to the floor, hurriedly cleaning up the mess on the floor, before the others could injure themselves. In a matter of a few minutes, she'd discarded the broken pieces of the ceramic into the trash bin, then mopped up the liquid everywhere. Though the remainder of her older siblings—17 year old Helena and Henry—walked into the room, pushing and smacking on the way, that was the extent of the altercation.

A drastic improvement from usual, as normally all of her older siblings worked double time to taunt, torment, ridicule and abuse her to the fullest extent. They must be feeling charitable this morning if all she had received was a couple of cruel words, a push and a few smacks from them. It was a change.

Upon finishing up making a second tray of coffee for the men, ensuring that no one else was coming, she carried it towards the table. Sitting it down at the head of the table, a mighty man of massive muscular build, dark locks framed an angular face, still looking eternally thirty-two. He snatched up the red coffee mug that she'd placed down on the table in front of him, glaring at the girl responsible for its presence, “What the fuck is this? Where is my mug?”

She ducked her head, “I'm sorry, father, it broke."

He snarled angrily as the mug was slammed down on the surface of the table, oblivious to the sloshing of the coffee over the brim, "That is the fourth time you have broken a mug this month. I'm not only stuck with a curse for a daughter, but a clumsy one too."

“I'm sorry, father,” she readily apologized.

Father was the only title she dared use to refer to him. Although at one time he'd been her daddy, having been the very center of her world she'd been the apple of his eye, that had all changed nearly three years ago. The second that Phillip had learned of the disgrace that his daughter had become he'd immediately turned his back on her, like all of her family had.

If it hadn't been for the intervention of her mother, cautioning the need for a servant in the house, he would probably have thrown her out by now.

“Be gone,” he growled.

“Girl,” Abbie spoke.

“Yes, mother?”

Abbie Greystone stared up at the teenage girl before her, the second youngest of her children, though amber eyes failed to show emotion, “Do not forget you need to be outside of the Alpha Square at promptly three o’clock. Don't be late."

She bowed, “I won't, mother.”.