The Ashwood Family Saga

AMELIE

Not everything that shines is gold. Sometimes, it just loses its luster too soon. That’s how it was for us. We were both artists. I was a jewelry designer.

I had a small shop. The front was my display area. The back was my workshop. That’s where I did my metalsmithing.

Upstairs, I had a tiny loft. It was my sanctuary during the busy festival seasons when custom orders would pile up.

I made custom pieces for werewolves who couldn’t wear silver. But we still loved our bling. My shop was doing well.

My mate, on the other hand, wasn’t as lucky.

He was a photographer. His work was breathtaking. His pictures made me want to see the world through his lens. He tried running a gallery, but it didn’t last.

He couldn’t handle the criticism that came with selling his art. Every passerby who didn’t stop to look was a blow to his fragile ego.

Soon, my success became my downfall.

When his father passed away, his mother moved in with us. My home was no longer mine. I had no say in anything. If I tried to voice my opinion, I was accused of disrespecting his mother and him.

I found myself spending more and more time at my shop. I made up excuses to avoid going home. My shop became my safe haven. I was supporting three people by then.

I had to work hard to keep food on the table. But soon, even my sanctuary was taken away from me.

My mother-in-law didn’t like that I was the one bringing in the money. She was old-fashioned. She convinced her son that he should be in charge of the finances.

My mate took over my business and our finances. I was left to work under his watchful eye, day in and day out.

I lost touch with my friends. I clung to my family ties. I was a shadow of my former self.

He never hit me. He never physically hurt me. His weapon was control.

I earned all our money, but I was only allowed twenty dollars a week. I didn’t need more, he said. He would get me what I needed.

I didn’t decide what I ate. He was a picky eater and didn’t like exotic food.

He decided what I wore. He didn’t want other men looking at me. I had to dress modestly to avoid embarrassing him.

He controlled my social life. I didn’t need friends, he said. He was all the friend I needed.

The one bond he couldn’t break was the one with my alpha father, John. My mate tried everything to cut that tie.

We argued a lot. I tried to reclaim some of my lost identity. If we fought about money, he would remind me that I was a bastard who shouldn’t have been born.

I was the reason his art had failed. I was a curse. It was only fair that I made it up to him by letting him control my business.

My lineage was a secret to the pack. I didn’t want it to affect my business. Some traditionalists wouldn’t let their families buy from me because I wasn’t a child of destiny.

He threatened to expose my secret to the pack and ruin me if I didn’t obey him.

If we fought about household issues or his mother, I was just a spoiled alpha’s brat. He would remind me that I had no power outside my father’s pack. He was the boss.

No matter what I said, I couldn’t win. I gave up. I lost myself. No, I didn’t lose myself; I was stripped of my identity. I was a puppet.

I didn’t resist him when he wanted sex. I felt nothing for him. I just wanted him to finish and leave me alone.

I wore the mask of the perfect mate to the perfect man. I was too scared of what else he would take from me if I resisted.

The only thing that was truly mine was my creativity. What I created was mine. I might not have had control over my business or my home, but no one could take away my creativity.

I created a safe space in my mind. It was my refuge in the darkest and loneliest times. It was where I stored all my future creations and inspirations.

I would look at a rough stone or a piece of metal and ask, “What were you meant to be?”

As I said that, my eyes would glaze over. I knew I was also asking that question to myself.

The stones would answer as I cut and polished them. But I never answered. The pain of that answer was too much to bear.

Being the eldest daughter of the most powerful alpha meant I had responsibilities, even as an adult. My father and grandfather never hid me. They accepted me fully.

My brother was about to turn seventeen. That meant his heir ceremony was coming up. This ceremony was held when the next alpha turned seventeen. It gave them time to find their mate and learn how to run a pack.

By twenty-five, they were expected to take over. The previous alpha would then become the leader of the pack elders.

Once the next alpha took over, he received the alpha mark on his left shoulder blade—a full moon. It symbolized his right to rule his pack.

The alpha’s mate would then become the luna and receive the luna mark on her shoulder blade—a crescent moon. It showed that she was one with the alpha—a phase of his full moon.

I felt a bit sorry for my brother and his future mate. They had big shoes to fill. The pressure of taking over the Ashwood Pack was daunting.

My stepmother Luna Celeste called me about travel arrangements for my mate and me. I was thrilled. I missed them so much.

My brother’s heir ceremony was the beginning of the end. I just didn’t know it yet. I quickly ended the call with Luna Celeste, eager to share the news.

My mate wasn’t as excited. He was furious.

“Why would I want to go to that bratty little shit’s heir ceremony,” he growled, sitting at the kitchen table with his mother. She just glared at me.

“He’s going to be the next alpha of the most powerful pack in the US. Show some respect,” I retorted, trying to defend my family.

Karen, his mom, wasn’t a fan of me talking back to her son. She shot back, “Act like a good she-wolf. Didn’t your father teach you any manners?”

I had to fight to keep my inner wolf from lunging at her. They ruled my life, despising my dad and the power he held over them.

My mate barked, “We’re not going. End of discussion.”

I had to think fast, find a way he couldn’t refuse.

“You don’t have to come, but I do. Alpha Mason will be there. If I don’t show up, it’ll look bad for my dad and our alpha.”

I’d done it. They couldn’t control me if two alphas expected me to be there.

“Fine!” he grumbled, knowing he’d lost this round.

I got ready for my trip, quietly thrilled at the thought of seeing my family and enjoying a few days of love and peace.

The day I left, I’d barely been on the road for fifteen minutes when my phone rang. It was my mate.

“When I call, you pick up. Or else,” he growled into the phone.

“I’ll only be gone a few days, and I’m visiting family. There’s no need to worry,” I tried to reassure him, keeping my voice steady.

All I wanted was to hang up and savor my rare moment of solitude.

“Fine. But when I call, you answer!” And then he was gone.

No “goodbye,” no “be safe, love you,” just silence. It always struck me as odd that we couldn’t mind-link over long distances like other mated pairs.

We could only do it within a few hundred feet. My dad and Celeste could mind-link for miles. I figured it was my fault, like most things. I guess I’d have to keep an eye on my phone.

I wasn’t sure what else he could take from me, but I didn’t want to find out.

I spent the rest of my three-hour drive listening to music, my mind blissfully empty. I had no clue what would be waiting for me when I got back home. But right then, I didn’t want to think about it.