Claimed By The King(s) Of Kings

Aina

"Aina!" The sharp voice of Housekeeper Austa made Aina jump. She flicked her head toward the mean-looking old woman who had worked in this house longer than Aina had been alive.

"Madam Austa, good morning," Aina said quickly, turning around. She had been so absorbed by the banner of Pack Silverwing that she failed to notice Austa entering.

’Good going, Aina. Now you’re going to get shouted at for the second time this morning.’

"Get all this food to the hall now, girl. We cannot afford to be late, we have guests," Austa barked, one hand planted firmly on her waist, her tone sharp enough to cut glass.

"Of course, Madam." Aina pulled out her earphones, shoved them into her pocket along with her cracked little phone, and lifted one of the trays of breakfast she had prepared. Austa grabbed another, and together they left the kitchen, heading toward the dining room.

’This Silverwing meeting must be important if this mean old lady is helping me carry the food,’ Aina thought as they made a sharp left turn.

The attendants at the door opened it for them, and they stepped into the large dining room. For the first time, the room was actually full. A long oakwood table stretched across the center, polished to perfection, and portraits of previous Whitelock Alphas lined the walls, each one looking eerily identical to the next, their stern gazes watching over the gathering.

So many different scents hung in the air that Aina felt nauseous. Because of her weak wolf, she had never been good at detecting scents, and this was the first time she had been so close to so many people at once. The mix of aromas overwhelmed her senses, making her stomach twist.

"Ahh, there is my wonderful daughter," Alpha Steyn’s voice rang out. Aina didn’t bother looking up, knowing he wasn’t speaking to her. She placed the first tray of toasted bread on the table, avoiding the stares directed her way. Maybe she should have removed her glasses before coming in. She couldn’t see without them, but at least she wouldn’t have to endure the humiliation of being stared at.

’The amount of food I prepared is not enough for all these people. This is not going to be good.’

"Aina, my dear, come here. I’m talking to you," Steyn said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Aina snapped her gaze up at the mention of her name. Her father sat at the head of the table. On his left was her ’mother,’ Bridget, her expression cold and unreadable, and on his right sat a mean-looking old man with a bushy beard and no hair. He was tall, muscular, exactly what an Alpha should look like. Aina recognized him as the man who had been stark naked not long ago, his presence now even more intimidating clothed and seated among power.

"Yes, Father," she said meekly, approaching with folded hands, her steps small and hesitant.

’He won’t hit me in front of all these people, right? That would be so embarrassing.’

"This is my omega daughter, Alpha Silverwing. She would make a fine young breeder to secure your line."

’What?’

Aina’s eyes widened, the word breeder echoing in her ears like a curse. What was her father talking about? Breeder?

Steyn rose from his chair, towering at six foot three a whole foot taller than her, his presence suffocating as he grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. He positioned her in front of the man she now knew was the head of the Silverwing Pack.

"She’s a beauty. Your words did not do her justice," Alpha Silverwing said with a disgusting smile, flashing gold teeth that made Aina’s skin crawl. He stood, taller than her father, his scent sharp and pungent, like ginger mixed with rot. Aina wanted to step back, to run, but her father loomed behind her, blocking any escape.

She bit the inside of her cheek as Alpha Silverwing grasped her face, his rough hand pressing against her skin. "You are quite the beautiful little omega. You will bear me many children. Perhaps twenty-five."

’CHILDREN? TWENTY-FIVE? NO WAY!’

Aina shivered, her face twisting into disgust as Alpha Silverwing lifted a lock of her hair and sniffed it, his nostrils flaring as he caught her faint jasmine scent beneath the layers of dissenting lotion her mother had forced her to wear ever since she presented as an omega.

’Why is he smelling me?’ she thought bitterly, rolling her eyes and leaning slightly away from him. ’This is so awkward. Everyone is here—even my parents—and this grown Alpha is sniffing me like I’m some prize. Are my useless parents really arranging a marriage between me and this psychopath? Everyone knows his Luna’s have all died under mysterious circumstances. Aka, he killed them because he got pissed they weren’t giving him an Alpha heir.’

It was no secret among the packs of the eastern region that Alpha Silverwing had no heir, even at his advanced age of one hundred and five years. The average shifter wolf’s lifespan was nothing like that of Lycans, who could live for thousands of years.

Wolves rarely lived beyond three hundred, and even that was a stretch. By one hundred and five, most Alphas already had grown heirs, but Silverwing had nothing. Instead, he had sired three hundred and seventy-five beta children.

The man couldn’t even produce a delta, despite impregnating hundreds of women. If you asked Aina, she would tell you the problem was him. Maybe he simply didn’t have Alpha blood in his seed.

"I will take her," he growled suddenly, yanking Aina’s hand into the air. The hall erupted in cheers, mostly from the Silverwing delegation and a few members of the Whitelock pack.

"Take who?!" Aina shrieked, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

"She’s a dumb one, isn’t she?" Alpha Silverwing sneered, ignoring her completely as he turned to her father. Steyn chuckled as though the man had said the funniest thing in the world.

"I need to get the rest of the food," Aina said aloud quickly, lowering her head and forcing her body to move. She took several steps back from Silverwing, dodged her father’s looming presence, and rushed toward the door.

But Austa blocked her path, her smug expression cutting off Aina’s escape. "I’ll get the rest of the food. You stay and greet your future Alpha," Austa said, flashing her a satisfied look. The woman was over seventy years old and still had a bone to pick with a sixteen-year-old girl. Talk about having no life.

No wonder she couldn’t keep a single man, not even a beta, for more than a week. Insufferable incel.

"Let her go, Austa. She must learn to serve her Alpha," Teressa’s voice rang out from the table. Aina didn’t need to look at the witch’s face to know it was just as smug as Austa’s.

"Of course, my Luna," Austa replied, tilting her head slightly before stepping aside.

Aina shot her an irritated glare as she walked out of the hall, slamming the door shut behind her.

These people were ridiculous, the spawn of evil. After so many years of service to this house and this pack, they wanted to marry her off to a sadist Alpha known for killing his Luna’s and breeding women like livestock if they couldn’t give him an heir.

From the moment she was born, she had been in service to the pack and her family. She had been washing dishes before she could even speak. You’d think that would earn her something. She wasn’t asking to be loved, she knew that day would never come. She wasn’t asking to be treated like her siblings or given the same opportunities. She just wanted freedom. That was it.

Her one wish was simple: if they hated her so much, why force her to stay? Kick her out of the pack, let her become a rogue. Anything would be better than being chained to the role of breeder.

With a frustrated huff, she flung the kitchen door open, staring at the mountain of food on the table. That was when something inside her snapped.

"Screw this," Aina mumbled to herself, biting her lip as she turned away. If the people in that dining hall, all praying for her downfall, were hungry, they could fetch the food themselves. She would not auction herself off to that man by serving him, not today, not ever.

Sliding her hands into the pockets of her worn-out hoodie, she made her way toward the back exit of the house. This part of the mansion was far less glamorous than the rest, cluttered with crates of rotting fruit and other useless junk. The grass outside was dead, starved of sunlight, and the air smelled faintly of mildew and decay. Still, it was better than the suffocating hall. She needed air. She needed space. She needed to be away from all that nonsense.

"Aina!" A voice rang out just as she stepped outside.

’Oh, come on. One moment of peace is all I’m asking for. Is that too much for you to give me, moon goddess?’ she thought, rolling her eyes so far back she half-wondered if they’d ever return. Luckily, she was far enough from the mailman that he couldn’t see her insolence.

The young man, no older than twenty, held out a heavy bag full of mail. Why mail still existed in a world where everything could be emailed was something Aina had never understood. "Hurry up and take the mail, servant. I have other people to get to," the boy snapped, shaking the bag impatiently.

Irritated, Aina walked up and grabbed the bag, not bothering to give him her usual fake smile, the one she offered everyone in hopes they might like her. The moment she took the bag, the boy hopped onto his bike and cycled away without another word, his tires crunching against the gravel.

’Even when I don’t want to work, I end up working,’ she thought bitterly, her shoulders slumping.

Aina sat down on the dead grass, leaning against the out-of-date stone wall near one of the smelly crates of rotten fruit. The stench didn’t bother her much; she was used to the scent, and her weak wolf nose made them less overwhelming. She opened the bag of mail and began sorting through it with a bored expression. At least this would keep her busy, keep her mind from wandering into darker places.

"Amilia, Amilia, Amilia," she muttered, repeating the name as she sifted through the letters. There were hundreds, all addressed to her ’dear’ sister. Most came from friends in the capital, where the kings of all packs resided, halfway across the world from here. Her father had the second-largest pile of mail, mostly from other packs requesting her hand in marriage. She didn’t need to read them to know what they said because they were addressed to her and her father. Clearly, he had gone ahead and announced to the world that she was an omega, offering her up like livestock. And yet, with all those perfectly respectable packs requesting her hand, he chose a rotten one like Silverwing.

"What a loving father I have. Out of all these packs, he chose Silverwing for little me," Aina scoffed sarcastically, her voice dripping with venom.

The remaining letters were scattered among her mothers, a few live-in servants, and a couple for her brothers. She flipped through them with growing irritation, her fingers tightening around the paper until it crumpled.

When she reached the last letter, Aina’s breath hitched. It bore the King of Kings’ crest: a black wolf howling toward a golden moon that appeared to melt into liquid gold. Unlike the others, this letter wasn’t addressed to her father as she expected, but to Travis, her older brother who had just turned eighteen not long ago.

"No way," she whispered, shoving the other letters back into the bag. She already knew what this one was, Travis had been pestering her for weeks about it.

"I shouldn’t open it," she muttered, though curiosity, as always, got the better of her. She slid her nail under the seal, careful not to tear the paper, and popped it open. Her hands trembled as she unfolded the parchment and read:

Dear Alpha Travis Whitelock,

Son of the Alpha of Alphas in the Whitelock Pack, it is with great pleasure that we inform you of your acceptance into Moonside Academy. We have witnessed your struggle and determination to enter, and for that, not only are we awarding you a seat at our school, but a full-ride scholarship.

Please join us for the new academic year. Moonside Academy awaits your response.

P.S. If you are not checked in by the fifteenth day of the Wolf Moon, your place will be given away.

"No way," Aina breathed in awe, her eyes widening. "That idiot actually got in." She corrected herself quickly. Travis wasn’t an idiot. He had one of the sharpest minds in the pack. Still, she had never believed he would succeed. She thought his fate would mirror that of their eldest brother, Stefon who is in his twenties now and had applied when he was eighteen. He was rejected, and the memory of him crying for days afterward was still vivid in her mind.

It was a monumental achievement to be accepted into Moonside Academy. The academy was the pinnacle of education for shifters, hosting the heirs of the most powerful families from the moment they turned eighteen, shaping them into leaders.

Even the heirs to the throne studied there. Located in the capital, it was every wolf shifter and lycan’s dream to attend. But with an acceptance rate of only three percent, most were forced to settle for lesser academies. Those who did make it in had their futures secured.

"Aina!" someone shouted her name again. She crumpled the letter in her hands instinctively.

"Yes?" she replied, looking up from her seat on the ground. Travis stood near the door, drenched in sweat, his tinted luxury glasses sliding down the ridge of his nose, his blond hair plastered wet against his forehead. His clothes were disheveled, his breathing unstable.

"I saw the mailman leaving. Is my letter here?" he demanded, his voice sharp with desperation.

"Umm..." Aina’s fist tightened around the balled letter.

"Ugh, you’re so useless. Just give me that," Travis snapped, yanking the bag of letters from beside her and clutching it to his chest as he searched frantically. His words dripped with cruelty. "You know Father arranged for you to be taken by Alpha Silverwing on the first of the new moon cycle...I think the first of Wolf Moon. You’re probably going to die, and we’ll finally be rid of you. And soon enough, I’ll kill your bitch mother as well." He laughed, the sound jagged and cruel.

Aina’s body shook at his words. She bit her lip hard, holding back any sound, and rose to her feet. Without a word, she walked back into the house, clutching the crumpled letter tightly in her hand. Behind her, Travis’s rage erupted when he realized he hadn’t found what he was looking for. His shouts echoed outside, but Aina didn’t look back. She kept walking forward, her eyes wide, her heart pounding, the letter burning in her grip like a secret she wasn’t supposed to hold.

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