Chapter 3 Chapter 3: Traded Like Nothing
Emberfang Pack
Amanda knelt in the small clearing deep in the Emberfang woods, where no one ever came looking for her.
Her hands hovered over a wounded rabbit. They trembled slightly.
The animal's breathing came in shallow gasps. Its leg twisted at an unnatural angle.
Amanda closed her eyes and let her gift rise to the surface.
Warmth spread from her palms. Her birthmark, the small crescent moon on her collarbone, began to glow. Faint at first, then brighter.
Golden light seeped into the rabbit's broken body.
She felt the bone knitting back together. She felt the creature's pain receding like a tide pulling away from shore.
When she opened her eyes, the rabbit was standing. It looked at her with dark, knowing eyes before bounding away into the underbrush.
Amanda sat back on her heels. She was exhausted but satisfied.
This was the only place she could practice. The only place she could be herself.
Her family didn't know about her gift. They wouldn't care if they did.
She was the invisible daughter. The spare. The one who didn't matter.
The sun was sinking lower. She needed to get back before dinner.
Before her mother noticed she was gone.
Kingswell Manor rose before her like a temple of immaculate order.
All gleaming stones and well kept gardens. Every blade of grass cut to exact height. Every window spotless.
It was beautiful and cold, just like everyone who lived inside it.
Amanda slipped through the servants' entrance, hoping to reach her room unnoticed.
"Where have you been?"
She froze. Turned.
Her mother, Clarissa Kingswell, stood in the hallway. Arms crossed. Lips pressed into that familiar line of disappointment.
Clarissa was beautiful in the way ice sculptures were beautiful. Blonde hair pulled back severely. Blue eyes that sparkled with frosted precision. Every inch of her screamed elegance and judgment.
"I was just... walking," Amanda said.
"Walking." Clarissa's tone made it sound like a crime. "While your sister was being fitted for her new gowns. While the seamstress waited for you."
"I didn't know..."
"Of course you didn't know. You never know anything, do you?" Clarissa stepped closer. Her gaze raked over Amanda. "Look at you. Dirt on your dress. Your hair is a mess. How are you my daughter?"
Amanda's fingers curled into her palms. She said nothing.
There was never any point in defending herself.
"Go clean up," Clarissa snapped. "Dinner is in twenty minutes. Try not to embarrass us further."
Amanda escaped to her room. Her chest was tight.
She washed quickly. She changed into a simple green dress that her mother would probably still find fault with.
Her room was small, tucked away in the east wing. Far from Lena's grand suite. Far from her parents' chambers.
Out of sight. Out of mind.
She stared at her reflection in the small mirror above her dresser.
Chestnut brown hair that never seemed to behave. Hazel eyes that always looked too hopeful. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't Lena either.
And in this family, anything less than perfect might as well be invisible.
The dinner bell chimed.
Amanda took a breath and headed downstairs.
The dining room glittered with crystal and candlelight.
Her father, Lucian Kingswell, sat at the head of the table. Stern-faced and imposing, even at rest.
Her mother sat to his right. Perfect posture. Perfect dress. Perfect everything.
And Lena sat across from Amanda, looking like she'd stepped out of a painting.
Long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders. Her ice-blue eyes sparkled with satisfaction. She wore a dress that probably cost more than all of Amanda's clothes combined.
"There you are," Lena said. Her voice dripped with false sweetness. "We were wondering if you'd gotten lost in the woods again."
Amanda sat down without responding.
"Lena was just telling us about her afternoon," Clarissa said, smiling at her older daughter. "Three different Alphas' sons came to call on her today."
"Three," Lena repeated, examining her nails. "Though honestly, only one of them was worth my time. The others were so... ordinary."
"My daughter has standards," Lucian said. There was pride in his voice. "As she should."
Amanda pushed food around her plate.
"What about you, Amanda?" Lena asked. Her smile was sharp. "Any suitors beating down your door?"
Silence fell over the table.
Amanda looked up to find everyone staring at her.
"I... no."
"Of course not," Lena laughed. "Who would want..."
"Actually," Lucian interrupted, setting down his fork. "That brings me to some news."
Amanda's stomach twisted.
Something in her father's tone made her skin prickle with warning.
"An alliance has been arranged," Lucian continued. "Between Emberfang and Nightfang. It will be sealed through marriage."
Lena's eyes lit up. "Marriage? You mean..."
"Not you," Lucian said.
Lena's smile faltered. "What?"
"Amanda will be marrying Derek Livingston. The ceremony is in two weeks."
The words landed like stones in still water.
Amanda's fork clattered against her plate.
"You can't be serious," she whispered.
Lena burst out laughing. The sound was sharp and cruel. It echoed off the walls.
"You're giving her to the broken Alpha?" Lena gasped between laughs. "Oh, this is perfect. The failure gets the spare."
"Lena, that's enough," Clarissa said, but there was no real reprimand in her tone.
Amanda's hands shook. "You're... you're forcing me to marry someone I've never met?"
"It's not force," Lucian said coldly. "It's duty. The Livingstons need this alliance. We need their territory. This marriage benefits both packs."
"But Derek Livingston is cursed," Amanda said. Her voice rose despite herself. "Everyone knows..."
"Everyone knows he can't shift," Lucian cut her off. "Which makes him powerless. Which makes this arrangement perfect. You're not important enough to waste on a powerful match, but you're useful for this."
The words cut deeper than any blade.
Useful. Not valued. Not loved. Just useful.
"Father, please..."
"The decision is made." Lucian's tone left no room for argument. "You should be grateful, Amanda. A man like Derek Livingston wouldn't normally even look at someone like you."
"Someone like me," Amanda repeated. Her voice was hollow.
"He means someone with no prospects," Lena supplied helpfully. "No suitors. No particular talents. No..."
"Enough." Clarissa held up a hand. "What's done is done. Amanda will marry Derek Livingston. She'll do her duty to this family."
"For once," Lena muttered.
Amanda stood abruptly. Her chair scraped against the floor.
"May I be excused?"
Lucian waved a dismissive hand. "Go."
Amanda walked from the dining room. Her legs felt wooden. Her chest burned with humiliation and rage and something else she couldn't name.
She made it to the stairs before she heard her mother's voice drifting from the dining room.
"Well, at least she'll be useful for once."
Clarissa's words. Cold and final.
Amanda's hand gripped the banister so hard her knuckles went white.
"Poor Derek," Lena's voice followed. "Stuck with our little mouse. Though I suppose beggars can't be choosers."
Their laughter chased her up the stairs.
Amanda locked her bedroom door and pressed her back against it.
Her whole body shook.
Married. In two weeks.
To a stranger. A cursed stranger everyone pitied.
She was being traded away like livestock. Like she was nothing.
Because to them, she was nothing.
Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
She wouldn't give them that satisfaction.
Amanda crossed to her window and stared out at the darkening sky.
Somewhere out there was Derek Livingston. The fallen heir. The broken Alpha.
What kind of man was he? Did he even want this marriage? Or was he as trapped as she was?
She pressed her palm against the cool glass.
Her birthmark suddenly flared hot.
Amanda gasped. Her hand flew to her collarbone.
The crescent moon burned like fire against her skin.
Then the vision hit.
It slammed into her mind with a surge of lightning.
She saw a massive silver wolf, magnificent and powerful, trapped in chains of shadow. The chains wrapped around its body. They cut into fur and flesh.
The wolf's gray eyes locked onto hers.
And it howled.
It howled her name.
"Amanda."