Marked By the Mateless Alpha

Chapter One – The Girl from the Edge of the Hollow

The cold in Nocturne Hollow wasn’t the kind you escaped. It got under your skin, lodged in your bones, and whispered with every breath you took: spring will never come.

Elinora Vale had grown up with that whisper.

That morning, the air felt even sharper than usual, thin and biting as as she left the crooked hut she shared with three other orphans. Snow blanketed the outer border village in uneven mounds, glittering faintly under the dim light of a star-pinned sky. No moon hung above them — there never was a moon here.

The Goddess had turned her face away from Nocturne Hollow generations ago, or so the stories said. Now, the only light came from scattered silver witchfire lamps that guttered in the wind. The village was too quiet. No gossiping neighbors, no mutts chasing scraps. Just silence.

Her stomach sank.

Today was the Blood Moonless Rite.

Her fingers tightened on the empty bucket she carried. The Rite came once a year, and every time it did, the border folk whispered prayers under their breath and kept their daughters inside. But prayers didn’t change the outcome.

On this day, the Alpha’s carts would come from the heart of the hollow to collect “tribute girls” — a phrase the elders used like it was an honor. Girls from fifteen to nineteen winters, taken to serve in the Alpha’s court for one year. But everyone knew the truth. Girls went into the Alpha’s Keep. They never came back.

The elders claimed the girls were given better lives, placed with families in the inner rings or trained for positions of service. But Elinora had never been foolish enough to believe it. Nocturne Hollow was not a place of mercy, and the Alpha’s fortress was not a home.

A sudden pounding on wood broke the silence. Not a polite knock — a demand.

“Elinora Vale!”

The shout cracked through the air. Her chest squeezed tight.

Two soldiers stood at the door of her hut, their black wolf-hide cloaks stark against the snow. One was tall and grim, the other smirking like he already knew how this ended.

“You’ve been called,” the tall one said.

The shorter one smirked, his expression, “Tribute.”

The bucket slipped from her hand, landing in the snow without a sound.

Behind her, Miri, the youngest in the hut, peeked out, eyes wide. Elinora forced a smile, even though her insides were ice. She touched the girl’s hand gently. “It’s all right,” she lied.

The soldier jerked his chin. “Move.”

She obeyed. Arguing never saved anyone.

The cart waited at the village edge, half-buried in snow. Six other girls already sat inside, wrapped in scraps meant to look like finery. Pale faces. Hollow eyes. No words.

Elinora climbed in. The gate slammed shut behind her.

The ride was long, the forest pressing in on all sides. Old trees clawed the sky. The air grew colder the higher they