The jumbo-screen in the Pack Square flickered to life, feeding the eyes of desperate pack members.
My mother's claws dug into my shoulder so hard I felt the skin break. "Look at her. Look at the screen, Wave. That's our ticket out of this hellhole."
I looked and wished I hadn't. What was on the screen made no sense.
High above the starving crowd of the Outer District, a digital portrait was displayed. It was a sketch defining a face that was hauntingly beautiful, elegant, and ethereal.
It was supposed to be the "Missing Mate" of Alpha Kade's second son, the prince who had just returned from Spain to claim his crown.
That wasn't supposed to be a terrifying sight, was it? Yeah. Now, what had my jaw slacking was that the girl in the sketch had my eyes. She had the exact curve of my jaw, the same slight arch of my brow…
"It's a miracle! The Moon Goddess finally gave us something we can sell." My father whispered, breath sour with ale.
"I-I… don't even know him," I stammered, shaking my head in total bewilderment.
Around us, the high-class enforcers were already scanning the crowd.
"Mother, that isn't me. I've never left the territory. I've never met an Alpha prince."
SMACK.
The blow to my cheek was swift, forcing my head to the side. The taste of blood bloomed in my mouth.
"It doesn't matter if it's you," my mother growled, inclining closer until I could smell the desperation on her breath. "The Alpha's son is coming home tomorrow for the Entrance Interviews. He's looking for that face which thankfully, you're a spitting image of. So you're going to put on that tattered silk dress, you are going to walk into that recruitment hall, and you are going to lie until your throat bleeds."
A sudden howl erupted from the Inner District. It was a sound of raw, dominant power that made every Omega and regular pack member in the square drop to their knees in instinctive submission.
The heir was home.
I looked back at the screen, at the perfect girl in the sketch. She looked like an angel. I felt like a sacrificial lamb.
"If they find out I'm a fraud, they'll kill me," I choked out.
My father gripped my chin, forcing me to look at the golden spires of the High Class region in the distance. "Then you better be a damn good actress, Waverly. Because if you don't get into that palace, don't bother coming back to this shack. We'll sell you to the miners by morning."
…
The transition from the mud-caked Outer District to the High Class region was like stepping into a dream that didn't want me there. Everything was too clean and smelled sickeningly of expensive lilies.
I stood in the waiting hall, draped in my gran's old pack ball dress. My mother had caked the makeup on my face so thick I felt like a doll ready to crack.
I could still hear her voice in my head. "Don't speak unless he bids you. You don't have the accent of a Luna, but you have the face of a Queen. That's enough to get us out of the mud."
Besides the vulgar bedroom tips she'd whispered while I was shoved into the trailer, it was the only advice I had.
"We should just run while we can," a small voice whispered in my mind.
It was Pia, my Omega wolf. She was small, scrappy, and every bit the Omega wolf—a literal coward. She didn't care about deceiving an entire pack for the position of a Luna in waiting. She just wanted to know where the nearest exit was.
"Quiet, Pia," I snapped back internally. "We're trying not to get executed."
I looked around the room and my nerves suddenly vanished thanks to the hysterical bubble of laughter rising up in my throat. The waiting room was filled with wanna be versions of the missing mate.
There were girls who had dyed their hair to match the sketch, girls who had taped their eyelids to mimic the curve of the drawing, and one girl who had clearly used so much contouring she looked like she'd been punched in the cheekbones.
They were all expensive, put together, and utterly ridiculous imitations of my face. A snort escaped me. I couldn't help it.
"Something funny, gutter-rat?"
The girl next to me, who was a high-class pack girl in a dress that probably cost more than my parents' shack, glared at me. Her makeup was perfect, but her eyes were full of bitterness.
"Just noticing the paint job," I shrugged. I adjusted my itchy sleeve. "The sketch didn't have a crooked nose, but I guess the surgeon was on a budget?"
The room went silent. The cheap girl in the old dress had just insulted the elite.
The girl exploded, stepping closer to me. "At least, I have a family name to protect. You? You smell like a used-up trailer. I just know your mother must be the local pack mattress. Is that the 'Special Skill' you're bringing to the Prince? Following in the family business?"
The air in my lungs turned to ice. My sensitivity about Imogen wasn't a secret, but hearing it spat at me in this golden palace snapped the last of my restraint.
"Tear her throat out," even Pia howled.
I didn't wait for a second invitation. I didn't care about the Queen face or the Luna accent. I attacked the darn bitch.
My fist connected with her contoured jaw with a smooth crack. The hall broke into disarray. High-class girls screamed as we hit the marble floor, tugging and biting at each other.
I might be an Omega, but I have been fighting for scraps in the Outer District since I could walk; these girls didn't stand a chance.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?!" A new voice screeched from behind.
Four enforcers dived in, ripping me off the girl, who was now sobbing about her ruined nose. I stood there with my chest heaving. I had a smear of her expensive lipstick on my knuckle and my mother's silly Queen makeup smudged across my cheek.
A woman stepped out from the heavy oak doors. She was stunning and was radiating an authoritative aura that made my wolf whimper and tuck her tail.
She looked at the crying girls, then at me, then at the girl with the bleeding nose, and rolled her eyes.
"My brother has spent three years abroad, and this is what the territory offers him?" She swept a hand toward the crowd of girls. "A room full of hungry, classless mimics."
She paced the line, hands on her hips. She stopped in front of a girl who looked like a literal doll.
"You," the lady said, pointing a finger at my opponent. "You'll do for a start. Come with me. Let's see if you can handle an Alpha's temper better than you handle a common street fight."
She didn't even look at me. I was the trash they were about to sweep out.
"We're failing," Pia whimpered. "The miners, Waverly. The miners are coming."
Panic overtook me at that. I knew what Pia meant. Imogen and Drodd used to be my biological parents' servants. However, since their tragic death when I was three, my foster parents were assigned by the pack to take me in.
Though they enjoyed the stipends from the pack government—which was the only reason they continued to raise me—they never forgave me for the extra stress since they had three other kids.
They didn't give a damn what happened to me, so if they said they were sending me to the mines should I fail to pull this off, then they WERE going to send me to the mines.
I need to get in that room.
Hence, as the princess took the girl away, I didn't think twice about grabbing the hem of her expensive power suit.
"Wait!" I shouted, the guards' daggers immediately leveling at my throat. "You're taking the wrong one."