The Alpha's Curse

Dawn seeped through the cracks of the window. Elara huddled in the corner, holding a small bowl of thin porridge.

"Give that to me!" Her half-brother, Titus, grabbed the bowl from her hand. He tilted it, and the porridge spilled onto the stone floor.

"You don’t deserve even this," her half-sister, Lila, sneered. "Father says you’re a waste of food."

Elara didn’t fight back. She just knelt down, trying to wipe the porridge with her tattered sleeve.

Footsteps echoed. Valerius stood in the doorway, his silver eyes cold as ice.

He didn’t look at Titus or Lila. His gaze fixed on the wet floor.

"Clean this up," he said, his voice low and sharp. "And if you make another mess, you’ll go without food for three days."

Elara nodded, her head hanging. "Yes, Father."

Titus and Lila laughed as they walked past her. "Look at her, so useless."

Valerius didn’t stop them. He turned and left, his cloak sweeping over the floor.

Elara kept wiping. The porridge stuck to her sleeve, cold and sticky.

She was used to this. Since her mother died, she’d been nothing but a burden in this family.

No one cared about her. Not her father, not her half-siblings, not even the servants.

She finished cleaning and sat back in the corner. Her stomach growled, but she didn’t dare ask for more food.

A servant came in later. "The Alpha calls all family members to the hall," she said, not looking at Elara.

Elara hesitated. She rarely went to family meetings. She was never wanted there.

But she had no choice. She stood up and followed the servant to the hall.

The hall was quiet. All the important members of the pack were there, sitting on wooden chairs.

Valerius sat on the high chair at the front. His expression was serious, no trace of warmth.

Elara stood by the door, trying to blend into the wall.

"We have a problem with the Northern Pack," Valerius said, his voice echoing in the hall.

Murmurs broke out. Everyone knew the Northern Pack, led by Damien, was their deadliest enemy.

"They’ve cut off our supply routes," Valerius continued. "We need to make a truce, at least for now."

An elder spoke up. "What do you plan to do, Alpha? Damien will never trust us easily."

Valerius’s eyes swept the crowd, finally stopping on Elara.

"I have a solution," he said. "We’ll send a peace offering to Damien."

Everyone looked confused. "What kind of offering?"

"My daughter," Valerius said, pointing at Elara. "She’s useless to us. Sending her to Damien will show our ‘sincerity.’"

Elara froze. She couldn’t believe her ears. "Father? You can’t be serious."

Valerius glared at her. "Be quiet. This is not up for discussion."

Lila snickered. "Good riddance. She’s been a pest for too long."

Titus nodded. "Damien will probably kill her. Good."

Elara looked around. No one spoke up for her. Everyone either looked away or smiled coldly.

"She’s your daughter," Elara whispered, her voice trembling. "How can you send me to our enemy?"

"You are no daughter of mine," Valerius said. "You’re just a mistake. This is the only thing you can do for this pack."

He stood up. "The decision is made. Prepare her. She leaves tomorrow at dawn."

The meeting ended. Everyone left, talking and laughing, ignoring Elara.

She stayed in the hall, frozen to the spot. Fear crawled up her spine.

Damien. The name alone made her blood run cold. He was ruthless, a killer.

She couldn’t go to him. She would die.

That night, Elara snuck to Valerius’s study. She knocked on the door, her hands shaking.

"Come in," Valerius’s voice came from inside.

Elara pushed the door open. Valerius was sitting at his desk, reading a scroll.

"Father, please," she said, tears in her eyes. "Don’t send me to Damien. I’ll do anything. I’ll work harder. I’ll never cause trouble again."

Valerius looked up, annoyed. "I told you, the decision is final."

"But why me?" Elara asked. "You have other children. Send Titus or Lila. They’re stronger, better."

Valerius laughed, a cold, bitter sound. "They are useful. You are not."

He stood up and walked to her. He grabbed her arm, his grip tight enough to hurt.

"This is your only chance to atone," he said. "If you refuse, I’ll throw you to the wolves. At least Damien might make it quick."

Elara winced in pain. "You’re cruel. You don’t care about me at all."

"Care?" Valerius sneered. "I never cared about you. Your mother was a weakling, and you’re just like her."

He pushed her away. Elara fell to the floor.

"Get out," he said. "And don’t bother me again. You leave tomorrow, whether you like it or not."

Elara stood up, her arm throbbing. She looked at Valerius, but there was no trace of mercy in his eyes.

She turned and left. Her last hope was gone.

The next morning, two guards came to her room. They forced her to take a bath and put on a clean dress.

"Move," one guard said, pushing her forward. "The Alpha is waiting."

Elara didn’t resist. She was numb, like her heart had turned to stone.

They walked to the boundary of the pack’s territory. A carriage was waiting there, pulled by two horses.

Valerius was standing by the carriage. He didn’t say anything, just nodded at the guards.

The guards pushed her into the carriage. The door closed with a thud.

Elara sat by the window. She looked out at the familiar trees and houses.

This was her home, even if it was a cruel one. And now she was leaving it forever.

The carriage started moving. The territory grew smaller and smaller in the distance.

Elara’s eyes were empty. She had no tears left.

She didn’t know what waited for her in the North. Death, probably.

The carriage entered a dense forest. Fog wrapped around the trees, making everything blurry.

Elara leaned against the window. Her face was pale, her eyes staring into the fog.

The carriage kept moving, disappearing deeper into the mist.