Chapter 5

【Elsa POV】

I stood before the full-length mirror, fingers trembling as I yanked up the zipper of my dress. Turning quickly, I watched the skirt whirl around my legs. For a moment, I smiled, remembering spinning in my childhood bedroom, playing moon goddess from Nordic tales.

The door banged open. Mother burst in with Astrid on her heels. Their critical eyes immediately crushed my fleeting joy.

"Oh, Elsa, couldn't you at least try to do something decent with your hair?" Mother snapped.

I touched my damp hair, stepping back. "I thought it looked fine."

Astrid grabbed my arm, fingers digging into my skin. "Of course you did. Come on, let's get this over with." She pulled me across the room. "We'll do a simple braid."

She shoved me onto the stool, yanking my shoulders back as Mother paced behind us, arms crossed so tightly her knuckles whitened.

"Sit up straight. Tighten your stomach." Mother pinched the fabric at my waist. "Your hips are too wide for that dress. This garment is little better than Sami tent cloth." She jabbed a finger toward my reflection. "If your father didn't need to bring you to prove to other Packs that you're alive and well, I wouldn't bother appearing with you. You look like a vagrant from Ljusviken." Her lips curled into a sneer. "What's that old Swedish saying, Astrid? A wolf pup will never become a sled dog?"

Astrid ripped the brush through my hair, tearing at knots. I gripped the edge of the vanity as pain shot across my scalp. "I can't believe you're making me do this. You owe me, Elsa. I should be finding my fated mate, not fixing you. You don't even have prospects here, a wolfless."

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood, swallowing my response. I just needed to endure tonight, then freedom would be mine.

Mother circled me, poking at my dress, tugging at my sleeves. "You didn't even prepare traditional spectrolite earrings? For Odin's sake, Elsa."

"Don't move," Astrid hissed, jabbing my cheek with a makeup brush. "You'll ruin everything."

"That shade makes her look like a pale Sami," Mother grabbed Astrid's wrist. "We don't need her looking sickly. Imagine the rumors."

I gripped the stool edge, forcing myself still as Astrid painted my face with harsh, quick strokes. When she finally stepped back, I stared at a stranger in the mirror—cheekbones sharper, eyes larger, lips fuller.

"There, at least you don't look like a complete disaster now," Astrid slammed the lipstick onto the vanity.

"This will have to do," Mother sighed. "Let's hope no one stares at that scar."

I smoothed my dress, heart hammering against my ribs. My fingers checked the inner pocket where my phone and escape money were hidden, brushing against the folded bills. Just hours more of pretending.

I followed my family into the grand hall, squinting as aurora-mimicking lights flashed overhead. Father's hand suddenly clamped around my arm, yanking me through the crowd toward a well-dressed older man. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I scanned for exit doors, mentally marking emergency stairs and service corridors.

A striking older man watched our approach, his eyes narrowing. Father's shoulders stiffened, muscles coiling like a wolf preparing to defend territory.

"Alpha Torsten," Father jerked his chin in a curt nod.

"Beta Graberg." The man's expression remained neutral despite the tension crackling between them.

"This is Bjorn, our alpha heir," Father thrust my brother forward. "And Astrid, my daughter. She comes seeking a fated mate, as none has formed within our Pack."

Alpha Torsten inclined his head slightly, deliberately avoiding a handshake. "Pleased to meet you both. The Silverpelts Pack welcomes you."

Father's fingers dug deeper into my forearm, pulling me forward. "This is Elsa, my youngest daughter."

Alpha Torsten leaned closer, his gaze locking onto the crescent-shaped scar on my neck. I fought the urge to cover it with my hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Alpha Torsten," I managed, heat flooding my cheeks. "Everything is beautiful. I'm impressed."

"Thank you. I'm pleased to meet the mysterious youngest daughter of our esteemed Beta Graberg." He studied me intently. "We've been waiting for you to step into Nordic werewolf politics."

"Oh, no, I'm not... I mean, I've never been much interested in such things," I stammered, stepping back only to be jerked forward again by Father's grip.

"Please, call me Torsten. My Silverpelts Pack is proud to host this year's Manegalning." Alpha Torsten raised his glass. "We're all quite excited to see the elusive Svartskogens Pack here. Quite an achievement, as my mate likes to tell me. How are you finding it?"

"It's all quite grand. I'm glad to be here," I lied, trying to keep my voice steady.

"You have such a unique daughter, Beta Graberg. She truly is special." Torsten's words made Father's fingers tighten until I nearly gasped in pain.

A tall man strode toward us, shoulders back, eyes scanning everything. "Beta Karl," my father barked.

Astrid lunged forward, flipping her hair and flashing her brightest smile. "Hello, Beta. I'm Astrid Graberg from the Svartskogens Pack. Pleasure to meet you."

"Karl Eriksson, beta of the Norrvarg Pack. The honor is mine." His gaze swept past Astrid and locked onto me. "And who are you?"

Father yanked me back, positioning himself between us. "This is Elsa, my youngest daughter. Elsa, why don't you go mingle with some people your own age?"

I slipped away, feeling Karl's eyes burning into my back as I weaved through the crowd.

For an hour, I ducked between groups and darted behind pillars, trying to understand why Alpha Torsten and Beta Karl had shown interest in me—a wolfless nobody. Each time I glanced toward Karl, I caught him staring, his intense gaze sending shivers racing down my spine and an unwelcome heat flooding my chest.

I scratched nervously at my neck as strangers' eyes repeatedly locked onto my crescent scar. My father's true motives for bringing me here suddenly seemed suspect. Why parade the family shame at such an important gathering?

My stomach knotted painfully. I needed to leave now. Spotting a service door, I pushed through it, stumbling onto a snow-dusted garden path. I crouched behind hedges and dodged between trees, avoiding couples who stood hand-in-hand beneath the flickering aurora lights.

Heart racing, I darted behind a stone sculpture and pulled out my phone. My fingers shook so violently I nearly dropped it twice while pulling up the ride-share app. Granudden was just an hour away. Freedom waited at my fingertips.

A hand shot out of nowhere, fingers digging into my forearm. I was yanked backward, spun around so forcefully my head snapped back. My phone clattered to the ground.

I slammed against a hard chest, looking up into amber eyes that seemed to glow in the darkness. The stranger towered over me, his broad shoulders blocking any escape route, deep golden hair catching the aurora's light.

"Where do you think you're going, little wolf?" His voice rumbled through me like thunder.

My body betrayed me instantly. Every muscle froze, heart hammering against my ribs while my skin tingled where he touched me. An overwhelming urge to press closer battled with my desperate need to escape.

Horror crashed through me like an icy wave as understanding dawned. I had found my fated mate—at the exact moment I'd planned my escape.