Chapter 1: An Older Sister’s Sacrifice

[Margaret’s POV]

“Margaret, have you seen my pink shoes?”

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you try looking under your bed?”

That was my younger sister, Elizabeth.

Though we were born just moments apart, I had been assigned the title of ‘older sister.’ A mere few seconds had set the course of my life in ways that often felt unjust.

From the time we were small, any disagreement between us ended the same way. If there was an argument, if she cried, if she so much as pouted, I would hear the same refrain from our parents: “Margaret, you’re the older sister. You need to be more understanding and give in to your younger sister.” And so, Elizabeth would get her way. My most treasured possessions—whether it was my beloved stuffed bear, a dress I had my heart set on, or even the affection of our parents—were often handed over to her without question.

Perhaps that was why we had grown into such different people. I had learned to follow the rules, to be dutiful and obedient, while Elizabeth carried herself with an unshakable confidence, never once calling me ‘sister.’ To her, I was simply Margaret, and that was how it had always been.

I turned to the mirror, running a brush through my hair as I examined my reflection.

Today was the day Elizabeth and I would finally come of age. It was a milestone for all werewolves, an event of great significance where we would stand before our entire pack and step into adulthood.

Our pack’s Alpha was Armstrong—a man of strength and stature, standing at an impressive six foot five inches. More than that, he was my boyfriend. We had been together since we were twelve years old, and through every significant moment in my life, he had been by my side. I had been there when his father passed away, when he ascended as the new Alpha, and through countless other trials.

For someone like me, who had always felt like a mere shadow in Elizabeth’s presence, it was almost unimaginable that an Alpha would choose me. But Armstrong had always reassured me. In moments of doubt, when I felt small and overlooked, he was my anchor.

I thought back to one particular Halloween from our childhood. As per tradition, Elizabeth and I had set out to collect candies. However, she quickly grew tired of the cold and, after visiting just two houses, decided to head home. I urged her to continue, but she refused, leaving me behind to complete our rounds alone.

Determined, I trudged through the cold, knocking on door after door, gathering an impressive collection of sweets. By the time I returned home, my fingers and toes were numb. What awaited me, however, was not praise for my efforts but an accusation.

Elizabeth was curled up by the fireplace, pouting as our parents comforted her. When I attempted to show them the bag of candies I had worked so hard to collect, my father’s gaze turned stern.

“Margaret, how could you leave your sister behind? She had to walk home alone in the snow.”

I turned to Elizabeth, who did not look the least bit cold. It was I who had suffered, I who had braved the chill. Yet, in their eyes, I was the one in the wrong.

And so, I was made to give Elizabeth all the candies I had collected. She was invited to sleep in the large, warm bed with our parents while I was sent to the attic to ‘reflect’ on my mistake.

I lay in my small bed that night, my stomach empty, my heart heavy with injustice.

That was when I decided to sneak out.

The strength of a werewolf far surpassed that of an ordinary human, and I had always been among the strongest of my peers. Climbing down from the attic window was an easy feat.

I wandered the streets, hoping to find any stray candies that other children might have dropped. That was when I met Armstrong for the first time.

Even as a teenager, he carried himself with the authority of a future Alpha.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“I was looking for candy.”

“No one’s handing out candy this late.” After a pause, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of chocolate. “Here, take this.”

The moment I accepted it, it felt as though he had been sent by the Moon Goddess herself. The night was clear, the stars shimmering in the sky. In that moment, Armstrong became someone truly special to me.

After that night, we spent more and more time together. I shared my stories with him—stories of unfairness, of loneliness, of always being asked to put Elizabeth first.

“You know,” I told him once, “my parents told me to apologize to Elizabeth, but I refused. She just kept crying.”

“And?” Armstrong prompted.

“Then I cried too. But they only cared about comforting her. In the end, I was still the one who had to give her my candies.” I hesitated before asking, “Do you think I’m petty for remembering it even now?”

“Did you give her the candies in the end?”

“I did. Because they said that as the older sister, I had to give in.”

Armstrong studied me for a long moment before saying, “You’re good, Margaret. The best girl I’ve ever met. But you need to have more confidence in yourself.”

He pulled me into his arms, his gaze unwavering. For the first time in my life, I felt truly seen. No one had ever taken my side like this, had ever reassured me that I was right to feel the way I did.

A warmth spread through my chest. “I’m really grateful to you. Meeting you has been the luckiest thing in my life. You’re better to me than my own family.”

“I am your family,” he told me firmly. “One day, you will be my wife, the future Luna of our pack.”

I believed him. The Moon Goddess had destined us to be together, and I would hold onto that fate with everything I had.

Chapter 2: A Birthday Turned Nightmare

[Margaret’s POV]

I checked my reflection once more, smoothing out my makeup and adding a final touch of lip gloss.

“Margaret, I still can’t find my shoes!”

Elizabeth burst into my room unannounced, as she always did.

“Can’t you just wear a different pair?” I sighed, already tired of the conversation.

“But those are my favorite ones! They match my dress perfectly. Without them, my whole outfit will be ruined,” Elizabeth whined, already rummaging through my belongings.

“They’re not here.”

“I’ll just take a look for myself.”

“Elizabeth, stop it. You’re messing up my things!” I protested, irritation bubbling to the surface.

She ignored me, as usual.

I hated how powerless I felt around her. I hated how, despite my resentment, I always gave in.

“Oh, you have a pair of pink shoes here,” she muttered.

“If you want them, take them,” I said with resignation, hoping she would leave my room quickly.

Elizabeth held up the shoes, inspecting them critically before sliding them onto her feet. “The heels are so low,” she complained, walking around the room.

“These are my only high heels,” I replied evenly.

Armstrong had given me those shoes on my last birthday. He had told me they suited me perfectly. But what did that matter now? If Elizabeth wanted something, she would find a way to get it. My feelings had never mattered to her.

Elizabeth looked down at my flats and smirked. She said nothing more, simply slipping on the shoes and admiring her reflection.

“They can’t be more than an inch high. I never wear anything below three inches. These won’t make my calves look as slender,” she grumbled, walking around as if testing them out. “And now my breasts don’t look as full either. This is all your fault.”

I ignored her and picked up my phone to text Armstrong.

[How are the preparations coming along?]

[Almost done. The ‘princess’ is wearing the shoes you gave me.]

‘Princess’ was the nickname Armstrong and I used for Elizabeth. We both shared a dislike for her. She, with her perfect golden curls, blue eyes, and carefully curated beauty, had always been the center of attention.

Elizabeth loved bold, flashy outfits and sky-high heels that caught every boy’s eye. She dressed like a fairytale princess come to life.

[I’ll get you something better. Today is your big day. Be happy. Love you.]

[I love you too.]

Armstrong’s steady, unwavering presence always calmed me. He was my safe place, my constant support.

After much delay, Elizabeth and I finally set off. The difference in our heights was stark—she already stood taller than me, and with my flats and her borrowed heels, she towered over me. It was an uncomfortable reminder of how little I stood out next to her.

When we arrived at the grounds, a large crowd of werewolves had gathered. In the distance, I spotted Armstrong.

“Mate…” I heard him whisper.

A thrill ran through me. I had never seen him look at me like this before. His eyes burned with intensity, filled with an undeniable desire. He was staring at me as if I was the only person in the world.

He was walking toward me, step by step, his gaze locked onto mine. My breath caught in my throat. Was he about to declare that I was his mate in front of everyone? My heart pounded in anticipation. But then…

He walked right past me.

In front of the entire pack, Armstrong strode to Elizabeth, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her deeply.

I felt like I had been struck by lightning. The world blurred. My body turned cold.

He was only two steps away from me, yet it felt like we were worlds apart.

When he pulled away, he looked around at the pack and made the announcement that shattered me completely.

“Elizabeth is my fated mate. She will be the Luna of the pack.”

The crowd erupted into cheers.

I couldn’t process what I was hearing, what I was seeing. Armstrong—my Armstrong—had promised me that I would be his Luna.

Was it all a lie? Had I just been fooling myself this entire time?

I felt like a fool. I had never been anything more than a side character in my own story, a background figure to Elizabeth’s perfect life.

I stared at her as she basked in the attention, happiness radiating from her. Then she turned to me and smiled—a smile of triumph.

I had never felt so alone.

Chapter 3: The Call from the Ex-Boyfriend

[Margaret’s POV]

A week had passed since my coming-of-age ceremony.

Initially, I had struggled to accept the situation, but as time wore on, numbness settled in, forcing me to acknowledge the reality—my boyfriend, Armstrong, and my twin sister, Elizabeth, were fated mates.

It was a bitter truth that gnawed at me. My sister, who had never taken anything seriously except her appearance, was going to be the Luna of our pack. She would take a role that required wisdom, strength, and leadership—qualities she had never possessed. But in the world of werewolves, destiny was law, and no one dared question the mate bond.

Our kind revered the bond above all else. No one seemed to consider my pain, and no one cared that I had loved Armstrong first. My Beta father had even come to me, expecting my cooperation. "Elizabeth doesn’t understand the responsibilities of being Luna," he had said. "You need to help her."

It made me furious. How was it that, despite everything, I was still expected to be the one to make sacrifices?

Frustration built up within me, and I swiped my arm across my desk, knocking over everything in its path. Papers fluttered to the ground, and my lamp tilted dangerously before settling at an odd angle. I threw myself onto my bed and stared at the ceiling, anger coursing through my veins.

I had always tried to excel—in school, in training, in every aspect of my life—yet I had been overlooked. My father’s favoritism had always been clear. "Elizabeth is my pride," he would say. But what about me? Was I not also his daughter? Did my achievements mean nothing?

A loud bang disrupted my thoughts.

"Margaret!"

Only one person barged into my room without knocking—Elizabeth.

"What do you want?" I snapped, barely restraining my irritation.

"Next week, Armstrong is hosting a ceremony to officially make me Luna," she announced, as if I hadn’t already been dreading it. "I don’t know how to organize such things, so I need your help."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "I don’t—"

"Father said you would help me," she interrupted smugly.

The words died in my throat.

Father again. The man who had always chosen Elizabeth over me. He must have been thrilled that his favorite daughter was going to be Luna.

I clenched my fists and forced myself to breathe evenly. Fighting would be pointless.

"Fine," I muttered. "I’ll help."

Satisfied, Elizabeth flounced onto my bed, making herself comfortable. "By the way, Anthony told me again that he wants to ask you out."

I groaned. "I’m not interested."

Anthony was the Beta of the pack. He had pursued Elizabeth in the past, but she had rejected him. Now that she had Armstrong, she had taken it upon herself to play matchmaker for me—most likely just to flaunt her own relationship.

"I already told him you’d go," she said carelessly. "He’s a good guy, Margaret. Maybe you should give him a chance."

"You had no right to do that," I snapped. "I’m not going."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Suit yourself. You can tell him that yourself." She got up and sauntered to the door before pausing. "Not that you want to hear it from me, but maybe it’s time you moved on."

She left, and I sat frozen in place.

Moved on?

I hadn’t been the one who ended my relationship.

My phone vibrated suddenly. A name flashed on the screen.

Armstrong.

My heart clenched. Why was he calling me now?

With shaky fingers, I answered. "Hello?"

"Margaret."

His voice was steady, familiar. It sent an ache through my chest.

"What do you want?" My voice came out colder than I intended.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

I exhaled sharply. "Is this about Elizabeth’s ceremony? I already promised to help."

"That’s something Elizabeth insisted on," he admitted. "She’s my mate, and I don’t want to upset her."

A bitter taste filled my mouth. So that was how it was now? He was afraid of upsetting her, but he had no problem breaking my heart?

"Then what is it?" I asked.

"Next week, Lycan King Donald is visiting our pack."

I sat up straight. "The Lycan King?"

Every werewolf knew about the Lycan royal family. Their power was unmatched. A single royal Lycan was as strong as an Alpha. They rarely involved themselves in pack affairs, but when they did, it was for a reason.

"Yes," Armstrong confirmed. "But I have an obligation that day. I’ve already spoken to the Lycan King and informed him that I may not be present when he arrives."

I clenched my jaw. I could already tell where this was going.

"Elizabeth doesn’t have the experience to handle this on her own," Armstrong continued. "But as Luna, she’s the one who has to do it. Margaret, you’re capable. I need you to help her receive the Lycan King."

His voice was soft, almost pleading. It made my stomach churn. Had he ever spoken to me like that when we were together? Had he ever needed me the way he needed me now—not as his lover, but as a convenience?

"Margaret?" he prompted.

I took a deep breath, fighting the emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

"I’ll do it," I said finally.

And just like that, I found myself sacrificing once again—for the sister who had taken everything from me and the man who had once been my world.

Chapter 4: Preparing to Welcome the Lycan King

[Margaret's POV]

The following morning, I relayed the news to Elizabeth regarding the imminent arrival of the Lycan King. She was seated at the dining table, wearing a rather revealing outfit, her attention seemingly occupied by the simple task of spreading butter onto a slice of bread. Her absentminded demeanor indicated she was hardly paying attention to what I was saying.

Observing her exposed flat stomach and pale, unblemished skin, I felt compelled to repeat myself. "The Lycan King is visiting our pack next week. A welcome ceremony must be arranged, and as the Luna of this pack, it is your responsibility to oversee it. Are you even listening, Elizabeth?"

Her expression changed slightly, but her priorities remained elsewhere. "Next week? What about my succession ceremony?"

I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. This was typical of Elizabeth. She had always been self-centered, a trait undoubtedly nurtured by our indulgent parents.

"Perhaps it can be scheduled after we receive the werewolf royal family and host the Lycan King. That should be our primary focus right now. Moreover, Armstrong should return by then, and I’m sure he will be glad to attend your Luna inauguration ceremony." It took considerable restraint to maintain a composed tone while saying this.

Elizabeth’s interest visibly peaked at the mention of the royal family. "The werewolf royal family? They are coming? Will they attend my Luna inauguration ceremony?"

"Perhaps," I answered noncommittally.

She leaned in, eyes alight with excitement. "What about the Lycan King? Will he attend too?"

Recalling Armstrong’s words, I nodded. "I believe so."

Elizabeth’s face flushed, her excitement intensifying. "Oh my goodness! The Lycan King! I've heard that the royal family members are not only tall and powerful but also incredibly skilled in… well, let’s just say they are every woman's fantasy. It is said that pure-blooded members of the royal family possess unique abilities. The Lycan King himself is rumored to be extraordinary! And he’s going to be at my inauguration!"

I refrained from responding. I had little interest in such frivolous notions. All I hoped for was that her enthusiasm would translate into her taking the welcome ceremony seriously.

"That settles it! I need to find the perfect attire for my inauguration. The moment he lays eyes on me, I want to make an impression!" Elizabeth exclaimed before hurrying out of the room, leaving her breakfast forgotten.

I sighed, attempting to call after her. "Elizabeth…"

It was pointless. She was gone.

I clenched my fists in frustration. "So that’s it? You’re leaving everything to me? I am not the Luna of this pack!"

Annoyance simmered within me. She had completely dismissed the conversation, showing no inclination to take responsibility.

A few moments later, to my surprise, Elizabeth re-entered the room. For a fleeting second, I thought she had reconsidered.

She ran a hand through her thick, golden locks, an undeniably seductive gesture. Any man watching would be enraptured by the sight. The possibility that Armstrong might be one of them only deepened my irritation.

"Oh, I almost forgot. You and Anthony should take care of the arrangements for the Lycan King’s reception."

I stiffened. "What? I do not agree with this, Elizabeth."

She simply waved a hand dismissively. "Armstrong is away, and Anthony is his Beta. I am the Luna, and I have the authority to delegate responsibilities as I see fit."

I could hardly believe her audacity.

"If you have any concerns, feel free to discuss them with him," she added before turning on her heel and leaving without a second glance.

I was left seething in her wake.

Despite my frustration, I had no choice but to proceed with the preparations. Anthony and I sat together at the long dining table, meticulously discussing every detail of the reception.

The problem was that Armstrong had only informed us that the Lycan King would arrive next week but had not provided a specific date or time. This meant we had to remain vigilant and prepared at all times.

To accommodate this uncertainty, we devised a plan to keep meals ready throughout the day. Lunch, dinner, and even afternoon tea, along with an assortment of desserts, would be readily available. We arranged for rooms to be prepared in advance, reserving the grandest and most luxurious chamber for the Lycan King himself. Additionally, we selected a team of skilled cooks and attendants to cater exclusively to the royal family.

Anthony also proposed reinforcing security. He suggested extending the perimeter patrols and increasing surveillance to ensure a seamless and secure reception.

These tasks were neither simple nor easy.

Both of us were utterly exhausted, our rest reduced to mere fragments of sleep.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, contributed nothing constructive. Instead, she continuously bombarded us with fanciful suggestions that disrupted our workflow. Each time, I had to painstakingly explain why her ideas were impractical, why her inauguration and the Lycan King’s reception could not take place simultaneously, and why her desire to wear an excessively short dress to the event was inappropriate.

Dealing with Elizabeth was draining, but amidst all this, Anthony proved to be an invaluable partner.

He was, without a doubt, the most competent Beta in our tribe. Our teamwork allowed us to progress swiftly, and for that, I was grateful.

Yet, I could not ignore the way his eyes always seemed to linger on Elizabeth whenever she appeared. There was a spark in his gaze, one that was hard to miss. I had a feeling that Elizabeth was not entirely truthful about her intentions. It felt less like Anthony was vying for my attention and more like Elizabeth was deliberately trying to incite his interest in me.

Every time she entered the room, Anthony would entertain her ridiculous ideas without hesitation. It was as if her mere presence rendered him incapable of rational thought.

I pushed these distractions aside and focused on the task at hand. The Lycan King’s arrival was of utmost importance, and I had no time to be drawn into Elizabeth’s games.

No matter how much work lay ahead, I was determined to ensure that everything was executed flawlessly. The Lycan King would be welcomed with the honor and respect befitting his title.

Even if I had to do it all myself.

Chapter 5: Public Disgrace

[Margaret's POV]

"The Lycan King is expected to arrive tomorrow. I’ll go over the reception area once more," I stated, exhaustion evident in my voice. The dark circles under my eyes had deepened from lack of rest, and the fatigue clung to my body like a heavy shroud.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, feigning concern. "Oh, Margaret, you look awful."

I sighed, too tired to be offended. "I know, but I don’t have much of a choice. At least the preparations are nearly complete." I was acutely aware of how haggard I appeared. My swollen eyelids struggled to remain open, and I had been surviving on an excessive amount of strong coffee just to keep myself functional. The endless planning and coordination had drained me entirely. It had been three days since I last took a proper shower or changed into fresh clothes.

Elizabeth gave me a pitying look. "You should go and rest."

"And who’s going to check the reception area?" I countered. "Anthony has already left to oversee the frigate. Someone has to ensure that everything is in order before the Lycan King arrives."

Elizabeth said nothing. I knew she wouldn’t volunteer. Even if she did, it would be a futile effort—she was unfamiliar with the arrangements. Everything had been meticulously planned by me alone.

"Alright then, you should go back," I said, waving her off. "And don’t forget to wear the dress I told you about tomorrow."

As I reached the entrance of the venue, I caught sight of my reflection in the polished pillar by the door and grimaced. Elizabeth had been right—I looked absolutely terrible.

My grayish-white dress was wrinkled beyond salvation, stained with remnants of food from the past two days. My shoes were scuffed and covered in dust. My hair, tangled and unruly, resembled a wild mass of seaweed. My skin was ghostly pale, my eyes dull and lifeless, and my lips were parched. I ran my fingers through my hair in an attempt to tame it, but it was hopeless.

I exhaled heavily. I would check the venue quickly and then return to freshen up. I couldn’t afford to be seen in this state any longer.

The reception hall was grandly decorated, a testament to my painstaking efforts. Rows of dining tables flanked both sides of the expansive room, their surfaces adorned with pristine, polished cutlery and glasses that sparkled under the light. Bottles of fine red wine remained unopened, waiting for the grand occasion. The moment the Lycan King arrived, an array of exquisite dishes and delicacies would be served.

"Margaret!"

A familiar voice called my name, and I turned to see Anthony rushing towards me, breathless.

"What’s wrong?" I asked, concerned.

"The Lycan King is here early!" he exclaimed. "I saw the royal entourage while I was on patrol. They’ll be arriving shortly."

"What?" My heart lurched. This was a full day earlier than expected.

"Luckily, we’re nearly finished with all the preparations," Anthony reassured me. "I’ve already sent word to Luna Elizabeth. I’ll escort the Lycan King here with her. You’ll manage the reception. Can you handle it?"

"Of course," I answered without hesitation.

There was no time to worry about my disheveled appearance. I immediately alerted the kitchen staff to commence food preparation, instructed the servants to take their positions, and sent word to the pack members, urging them to gather quickly.

Within moments, the hall was bustling with activity. Despite the urgency, the women had taken care to present themselves impeccably. Each one was elegantly dressed, their makeup flawlessly applied.

For a fleeting moment, I wished I could look more presentable. The Lycan King was the most powerful and esteemed figure in the entire werewolf realm. Elizabeth had been right—there wasn’t a single woman who wouldn’t wish to catch his eye. Despite my personal humiliation of being the Luna’s elder sister rather than the Luna herself, I had secretly hoped to be noticed.

Now, however, I found myself instinctively retreating to a quiet corner, unwilling to dwell on such thoughts.

"Well, if it isn’t Margaret."

A delicate yet mocking voice sliced through the air. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Selena.

Elizabeth was beloved by many, but her admirers never extended their favor to me. Instead, I had become the unfortunate target of scorn from her enemies. Selena, in particular, seemed to take pleasure in tormenting me whenever the opportunity arose.

I remained silent, hoping she would lose interest. But it was clear she had no intention of letting me off so easily.

"Look at what Margaret is wearing! Are those rags?" she sneered loudly, drawing the attention of those nearby. Laughter rippled through the gathered crowd.

As always, no one came to my defense.

"You’re really going to greet the Lycan King dressed like this?" she continued, her voice dripping with mockery. "What will he think of our pack when he sees the Luna’s sister looking like a servant? You’re an embarrassment to us all."

My fists clenched at my sides. I refused to let her words break me.

"I arranged everything in this hall," I retorted sharply. "I’ve done more for this pack than anyone else!"

Selena smirked. "Oh, please. Everyone knows that the Luna is responsible for these preparations. Even if you did the work, the credit belongs to her. Or have you forgotten? You always thought you would be the Luna, didn’t you?"

A chorus of snickers followed her words. My chest tightened.

Selena leaned in, her voice a cruel whisper. "Tell me, Margaret, who was it that used to boast about becoming the pack’s Luna? And then, on the day of her coming-of-age ceremony, watched helplessly as her younger sister stole the Alpha right out from under her nose?"

My vision blurred with unshed tears, but I refused to let them fall. The pain of that moment, of losing not just my dream but my dignity, still haunted me.

"It must be humiliating," she continued with a saccharine smile. "Your younger sister is the Alpha’s fated mate. She holds the position of Luna while you—what are you, exactly?" She let out a hollow laugh. "You weren’t even good enough for the Alpha of our pack."

The laughter around me grew louder, each note a dagger in my heart. But I stood my ground, swallowing the pain.

The Lycan King was about to arrive.

I couldn’t afford to break now.