The Barefoot Crown

I lift the freshly baked loaves from the hot oven, nestling them neatly on the windowsill to cool. The scent of warm bread fills the room.

“Beautiful job, Celestine,” my mother says with a warm smile. “These are fit for royalty.”

“A prince, maybe!” my little sister, Heliane, chimes with a giggle, her pigtails bobbing as she fidgets.

Mother’s smile softens. “Quickly now, go change into that dress I prepared. Your nicest one.”

“Why are we bothering?” I question, a hint of frustration in my voice. “He’s just here to dismantle our pack.”

Taking my hands gently, she meets my gaze with sincerity. “It doesn’t matter, my love. He is the Prince of all Werewolves. We owe him respect, no matter what pack he sends us to.”

I sigh, the weight of her words pressing down on me. This pack is my entire life; leaving it feels unbearable. Mother keeps telling me that perhaps my mate waits for me in another pack, that leaving might be a blessing in disguise. I’m not as sure.

In the months since I turned of age, my father has paraded me before every visiting wolf, hoping to find my mate. But visitors have been rare given the state of our pack. As the Beta’s daughter, I’ve been fortunate to have such opportunities, a privilege that might vanish if we are declared omegas at a new pack.

Dragging my feet, I head upstairs to the small room I share with Heliane. Pulling on the pressed dress, I glance toward the mirror. Maybe—just maybe—the Prince might like the bread enough to send us somewhere decent. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll see a spark of beauty in me despite my simple life.

Even as I adjust the fabric, anger bubbles within me. This place, though humble and worn, is my home. It’s where my siblings and I were born, where our family celebrated countless milestones. It holds our memories, more than just a building but a life lived within.

A soft knock heralds my mother’s entrance. Her smile widens as she sees me in the tan dress. The fabric feels exquisite against my skin, far too expensive for our strained budget. It hugs my figure yet offers modesty with its high neckline. I feel mature in it, but guilt gnaws at me. She shouldn’t have spent what we don’t have.

Coming behind me, she brushes my hair with careful strokes, letting soft, sandy waves fall over my shoulder. “You’re a lovely girl, Celestine,” she murmurs. “The Prince will notice. Remember—smile gently. Keep it demure. We may not be able to change his decision about the pack, but we can leave an impression.”

A short laugh escapes me. “He probably won’t even see me, Mother. He’s not interested in someone delivering a loaf of bread.”

Ignoring my comment, she sets her nicest shoes in front of me and helps me step into them. Afterward, she heads downstairs to pack the bread into a basket. When I join her, she presses the handle into my hands, her expression firm. “Politeness is key. Don’t forget to bow properly.”

“I get it,” I reply, exasperated.

“Wait!” Heliane’s voice rings out as I open the door. “I want to come, too!”

Mother turns to decline, but I interject. “She can walk with me. She won’t go inside—just wait outside. It’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, Mother nods. “Very well, but stay out of sight, Heliane. I didn’t have enough to get both of you proper dresses.”

Heliane nods eagerly. “Yes, ma’am!”

Hand in hand, we make our way toward the Alpha’s house. To save time—and avoid unwanted conversations—I steer us down the less-traveled paths behind the main streets. Walking feels odd in this fine dress; I’m reminded again how none of us here can afford such luxuries.

“Do you think you’ll meet the Prince?” Heliane asks, her eyes bright with curiosity. “I bet he’s handsome!”

I shrug. “Doesn’t matter much to me. It’s not like anything I say or do will change his decision.”

She’s still a child, caught up in fantasies about the royal family’s grandeur. At twelve, she doesn’t understand. If the Prince is here to disband our pack, I don’t see how he could be wonderful. Worse, he’s the one deciding where we all go—no say in the matter for any of us.

Thoughts of my siblings weigh on me. My brothers and I are all of age now. He could separate us, scattering our family. As a Beta’s daughter, I have no special claim like Alphas do—he could relegate me to the lowest ranks, even a slave.

I grip the basket tighter. This errand, this bread—it’s not just a delivery. It’s a desperate attempt to show him I’m worth something.

Heliane’s voice pulls me back. “Why the new dress? Does Mom think he’ll pick you as his mate?”

I shake my head. “Royals can’t reject the bond if it’s meant to be. She probably just wanted me to look nice.” But deep down, I don’t know. The dress feels out of place, unnecessary.

As we pass the candlemaker’s house, a strange scent wafts through the air. Fresh bread—it’s intoxicating, yet unlike the bread I baked. Then an underlying note catches me—juniper. There aren’t any juniper trees around here.

“What’s wrong?” Heliane’s voice is concerned.

“Nothing,” I reply, smiling faintly. “Just caught a smell.”

She sniffs. “I don’t smell anything.”

“That’s because you don’t have your wolf yet, pup,” I tease, tapping her head.

My chest feels tight, my wolf restless, though I don’t understand why. The scent grows stronger with every step, nearly overwhelming. Even Heliane should notice it by now.

I glance between two houses and spot an enormous figure—it’s a man, taller and broader than anyone I’ve ever seen. My Alpha stands beside him, looking almost small in comparison.

He turns, his gaze locking on mine. Something inside me freezes. His dark eyes are piercing, and though distance separates us, I feel their intensity. His attention drops to take in my full appearance before returning to my eyes.

“Celestine!” my Alpha calls. “What are you doing back here?”

I can’t answer. I’m rooted in place, unable to look away from the man. He’s closer now, striding toward me between the buildings. My heart thuds violently, almost painfully.

Then he’s there, towering over me, and his large hand wraps firmly around my arm. “Mate,” he declares, his deep voice reverberating through me.

Shock courses through my veins. My wolf howls in recognition. Mate? Could this colossal man in front of me truly be mine? It feels impossible.

Before I can process, his grip tightens, and he pulls me along, his long strides forcing me to hurry. The basket falls from my hand, forgotten.

“Wait—” I manage to say, but my protest dies as his fingers hook beneath my collar. With one swift motion, he rips the fabric. My mother’s hard-earned dress—gone.

“No!” I gasp. Tears burn in my eyes as his extended fangs pierce my neck. Searing pain radiates through me as he marks me without warning. My cries echo, but he doesn’t stop. Somehow, through the agony, the bond snaps into place.

When he finally withdraws, his touch softens. He pulls me closer, one hand resting protectively on my back. For a fleeting moment, it feels... reassuring. Then he steps away, letting me collapse to the ground.

I look up, trembling. Words escape me as a flood of overwhelming connections rushes into my mind—voices, thoughts, chaos. The noise is unbearable. I clutch my head, crying out in confusion.

“Block them out,” his gravelly voice says, but I can’t understand how.

Arms wrap tightly around me—it’s my mother. “Close your mind link, Celestine,” she whispers urgently. “You have to close it.”