Fated by Blood and Moon

Chapter 1: A Life in chains

The sharp crack of the whip cut through the air, landing across my back with a force that sent me sprawling to the ground. Pain exploded along my spine, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to cry out. The dirt beneath my hands was cold and rough, a stark contrast to the burning ache that seared through my skin. I had endured worse. I could endure this.

“Get up, filth!” a voice snarled behind me.

With effort, I pushed myself onto my hands and knees, my breath ragged. My vision swam for a moment, but I forced myself to stand, my knees shaking under the weight of exhaustion. Blood dripped down my back, soaking into the thin, threadbare shirt I wore. This wasn’t the first time I had been beaten, and I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Across the courtyard, pack members moved about, their eyes sliding over me without a second glance. No one cared. No one ever did. To them, I was nothing but a stain on their perfect pack, a reminder of a betrayal they could never forgive.

“Maya!” A sharp voice cut through the crowd.

I straightened, wincing at the pain in my back as I turned to see Darius, the Beta’s son, striding toward me. His expression twisted with disgust, his lip curled as if the very sight of me offended him.

“What are you standing around for, mutt?” he spat, his eyes blazing with disdain. “You’re supposed to be cleaning the stables. Do I need to remind you of your place?”

I lowered my gaze, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The urge to lash out, to tear him apart, was overwhelming, but I couldn’t. Not here. Not now. They were always watching, waiting for me to slip up, to give them a reason to punish me further. I couldn’t afford to lose control.

“No, sir,” I muttered, my voice low and strained.

Darius stepped closer, towering over me as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. His fingers dug painfully into my skin, but I refused to flinch. I would not give him the satisfaction.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” he sneered, his breath hot against my face. “You think because your father was Beta, you can still hold your head high. But you’re nothing, Maya. You’re a disgrace. Your father died for nothing, and your mother was a filthy bloodsucker who got what she deserved.”

His words hit me like a slap, and for a moment, my control wavered. Rage boiled in my veins, and I felt Lyra stir, her growl rumbling within me. Let me out, Maya. I’ll show him what we can do.

Not now, I replied silently, pushing her back. We can’t risk it.

If there was one thing I had learned over the years, it was how to hide my emotions. The more they thought they were getting to me, the harder they pushed. It was easier to give them nothing.

“I know my place,” I said through gritted teeth.

Darius smirked, satisfied with my submission. He released my chin with a shove, nearly knocking me off balance. “Good. Now get back to work.”

I didn’t hesitate. I turned and made my way toward the stables, my back aching with every step. Behind me, I could still hear Darius laughing, his voice mingling with the chatter of the other pack members. It was always like this. Every day, I was reminded of my place, of my mother’s supposed betrayal, and of the fact that I was a half-blood living on borrowed time.

The Bloodfang Pack had never forgiven me for my mother’s vampire heritage, and they never would. When the attack had happened all those years ago, they had needed someone to blame, and my mother had been the perfect scapegoat. A vampire mated to their Beta? It had always made them uneasy, even though she had vowed never to associate with her kind again. But when the vampires came and slaughtered half the pack, including my father, they turned on her. They believed she had led them there, that she had betrayed them all.

The truth didn’t matter. It never did.

The stables were dark and musty when I entered, the smell of hay and sweat thick in the air. I grabbed a pitchfork from the corner and got to work, my movements slow and methodical. The repetitive action gave me something to focus on, something to ground me as the hours dragged on.

My back throbbed with every movement, the pain from the whipping making it hard to concentrate, but I pushed through it. I had learned long ago that pain was temporary. Survival was what mattered.

I had spent most of my life in the royal pack house, forced to serve the very wolves who despised me. After my parents died, the Alpha had allowed me to stay, but only because of my father’s position as Beta. Even in death, my father had some influence. But it wasn’t enough to save me from the pack’s cruelty. As I grew older, they turned me into their slave, a symbol of their hatred for my mother and everything she represented.

Years had passed, and I had hardened. I no longer cried when they beat me, no longer begged for mercy. There was no point. The only thing that kept me going was the hope that one day, I would find a way out. One day, I would escape this nightmare.

But as the days turned into years, that hope had begun to fade.

The sun had begun to set by the time I finished cleaning the stables. My muscles ached, and my stomach growled with hunger, but I knew better than to expect a meal. Some nights, if I was lucky, the kitchen staff would leave me scraps. Other nights, I went to bed hungry.

As I stepped outside, the cool evening air hit my face, bringing with it the distant sounds of the pack preparing for their nightly run. I watched as wolves shifted, their sleek forms disappearing into the forest one by one. I had never been allowed to join them.

Even though I was a werewolf, my vampire blood made me an outcast. They feared what I might become, what I might do if given the chance. You belong with them, Lyra whispered, a mix of longing and frustration. We're one of them, Maya. Don't forget that. I know, I replied silently. But they'll never accept us. I had learned to live with their fear. It was better than living with their hatred. I turned away from the pack and made my way toward the small shed where I slept. It was nothing more than a glorified storage room, tucked away from the main house, but it was mine. My space. A place where I could be alone, where I didn't have to listen to their insults or feel their stares burning into my back.

As I reached the shed, I hesitated, my hand on the door. Something felt different tonight. The air was heavier, the silence more oppressive. I glanced around, my heart pounding in my chest, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Still, the feeling lingered. With a sigh, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, my body relaxing slightly as I closed it behind me.
The small room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the moon through the single window. I moved to the corner where my thin mattress lay on the floor, wincing as I lowered myself onto it. I didn't know how much longer I could keep doing this. The beatings, the humiliation, the constant fear of what they might do to me next-it was wearing me down, piece by piece. I could feel myself slipping, losing the strength to keep fighting.
But I couldn't give up.Not yet.
I lay back on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling as the sounds of the night crept in around me. The wind rustled through the trees outside, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted. It was peaceful here, in the solitude of my tiny shed. For a few moments, I let my eyes flutter closed, allowing myself to dream of a time when I wouldn't have to fight for every breath, a time when I could run freely in the woods under the moonlight-just like the wolves.