Chapter 47

From that night onward, Oberon became the family I never had, the only one I could truly rely on. I was grateful for him, more than I could express. He didn’t just teach me how to fight; he showed me how to survive how to adapt to my circumstances and navigate the world in a way that would keep me alive. I learned how to feign interest in the lessons the nuns gave to the children at St. Augustine's, and I began to use that to my advantage. They offered me more freedom, less labor. In return, I accepted the label they gave me: the "demon's child healed by God's grace." My clothes remained tattered, and the food still disgusted me, but the eyes that once watched me so closely began to avert their gaze. That little bit of space allowed me to practice with Oberon, and for the first time, I felt like I was gaining control of my life.

Oberon often said that I had a natural talent for martial arts. Though my body was small, he saw something special in my agility, and he taught me how to use it to my advantage. By the time I was ten, I could take down a grown, moderately skilled man. But martial arts weren't the only skill I was honing. Oberon soon realized I was a quick learner, particularly when it came to academics. I breezed through my classes, grasping everything almost effortlessly, but there was no real challenge. The orphanage school didn’t offer anything beyond the basics, so I grew restless. Fortunately, Oberon supplied me with books, and I devoured them all. With his help, life began to feel easier, lighter—even happy, for a brief time.

It was Oberon’s guidance that led me to a cunning plan: I would convince the nuns to allow me to pursue my education as part of a special, individual arrangement. With that, I managed to graduate from St. Augustine’s High School in under two years, and I even managed to convince them to let me live independently while working part-time at a bakery. When Mother Superior gave her approval, I felt like I could breathe again. It was a small victory, but it felt like the end of the nightmare. Little did I know, it was just the beginning.

"I wonder why Marwood keeps you alive," Oberon mused one day while helping me settle into a run-down room—my new home.

Oberon never referred to my father as "Alpha." He was part of the pack but had remained loyal to my mother, always careful to avoid any suspicion, all while harboring a quiet disdain for Cassius Marwood. His loyalty to my mother was unshakable, and I knew he was staying close for my sake.

"Thanks for the optimism, Oberon," I replied with a frown, forcing a bitter smile. "Should I start thanking my father every day for sparing my life?"

"Don’t pretend you’ve never wondered," he continued, his voice a mix of concern and logic. "You’re of no use to the pack, and he wouldn’t care if you were a genius. So, why hasn’t he killed you yet?"

I hesitated, my mind racing. "I always thought it was because of my mother," I ventured cautiously, meeting Oberon's piercing gaze. "She was an Alpha too, so maybe he respects her opinion enough to spare me."

"He sent you to the orphanage because he knew she'd oppose him if he killed her child, but back then, the pack wasn’t as strong as it is now. There must be another reason," he said, worry creasing his features.

"I don’t think it’s safe for you to get close to the pack and ask about it," I said with a sigh. "And you're not exactly in their good graces."

"Are you worried about me, Princess?" he teased, but his voice had an edge. "You underestimate me. I’m still one of the strongest warriors the Southern Moon Pack has ever seen."

I forced a smile, but deep down, I feared I might lose him, even over something that seemed trivial at first. No matter how strong Oberon was, he would never be a match for my father—the most ruthless and bloodthirsty creature in the south. Still, I knew he would keep pursuing the truth.

Three months passed before Oberon uncovered the first clue.

“The blood of the kids from the orphanage has always been tested… Has anyone tested yours?” he asked one evening, anxiety creeping into his voice.

“Of course,” I replied, irritation rising with the memory. “My blood was taken at least twice a week for five years.” I shrugged.

He let out a heavy sigh, which only deepened my growing fear.

"So?" I asked, my fingers tapping nervously on the table. "What did you find?"

"Not much," he said, his lips tight with concern.

"But?" I pressed.

"It seems they found something valuable in your blood. I don’t know what it is, but for some reason, they’re waiting for you to come of age," he said, his fist clenched in frustration.

I felt my knees buckle beneath me as the weight of his words hit me. When I was first allowed to leave the orphanage, I thought it meant I was free. But it turned out they had only let me go because I wasn’t of any use to them yet. My freedom had been nothing more than an illusion, a momentary reprieve. I felt like an animal bred for slaughter.

"Thalassa... whatever their plans are, I won’t let them hurt you," Oberon vowed, his hands gripping mine, his eyes fierce with determination.

I had hoped for a taste of normalcy, a glimpse of a life beyond the shadow of my father. I had graduated high school two years early, and now I was eager to explore college life. But Oberon was preparing me for the inevitable. The freedom I had would end soon, and I needed to be ready. From then on, my days became a blur of endless training and studying. I slept barely three hours a night, waking early for training sessions with Oberon before attending classes. Afterward, I worked at the bakery and squeezed in more study, all while receiving additional lessons from private tutors Oberon arranged for me. By the time I graduated college a month before my eighteenth birthday, I had learned far more than the institution could offer.

But it was on that day, the day I graduated, when Oberon finally discovered my father’s plans.

We met, as usual, on the rooftop of my dingy apartment building, but today, he was different. He didn’t take the fire escape like he always did; instead, he leapt from the neighboring rooftop and quickly ducked behind a storage shed.

“What’s going on?” I asked, anxiety tightening in my chest.

“The wolves are keeping watch on you from now on. You’ve graduated, so technically, there’s nothing holding you here. They’ll be watching you closely until your birthday,” Oberon growled, his teeth clenched.

I swallowed hard, panic rising in my throat. “Oberon, do you know what they’ll do to me?”

“They’re going to sell you to one of the Alphas of the northern packs,” he said, his voice pained.

“Sell me... as what? A servant?” I stammered, my voice shaking with disbelief.

“You’ll be sold as a slave,” he said flatly, each word like a hammer striking my heart.

I couldn’t bring myself to fully grasp the horror of his words. But something in his voice told me there was more.

"So what? Am I supposed to do laundry for them, wash their clothes or something?" I tried to smile weakly, trying to lighten the unbearable weight of the truth.

“Thalassa,” Oberon said, his voice serious and cold, “Your DNA doesn’t have the wolf gene, but the rest of it... it’s perfect for wolves. Your genes are dominant, which means any child you have will inherit those dominant traits. And a child of yours with an Alpha...” He trailed off, his eyes dark with understanding. "That child will be the most powerful wolf ever known."

A cold sweat drenched my body as his words sank in. I knew how genetics worked. The wolf gene was dominant, so the child of any pure-blood wolf would have a high chance of becoming a werewolf. If it was an Alpha’s child, that chance was nearly certain. But I was the exception—the mutation in my DNA had turned what should’ve been a wolf gene into something else, something that made me an anomaly.

“What does that mean? Are they going to use my eggs?” I asked, panic choking my voice.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Oberon replied, his tone tight with restrained fury. “The northern packs are cruel. They’ll use you, Thalassa. They’ll rape you night after night until you’ve given them as many children as they want. And then... most likely, they’ll kill you.”

His words cut through me like a blade. I sank to my knees, the weight of everything crashing down on me, and for the first time, I felt the true extent of my father’s cruelty.