My fierce werewolf

Harper's point of view.

I always dreamed of the day I would meet my mate. The one who would love me unconditionally, protect me fiercely, and cherish me endlessly.

It was the day of the mating ceremony, a sacred tradition that every werewolf looked forward to. All the unmated wolves above 18 years old would gather in the royal palace, where the future king, Andrew Lincoln, would announce his mate and mark her in front of everyone. Then, the rest of us would have a chance to find our mates among the crowd, using our senses of smell and touch.

I was nervous and excited as I got ready for the ceremony. I wore a simple but elegant red dress that hugged my curves and showed off my tan skin. I let my long black hair fall freely over my shoulders and applied some light makeup to enhance my green eyes and full lips. I didn't want to look too flashy or desperate, but I wanted to look my best.

I was part of the royal pack, which meant I had a privileged position in the werewolf society. My parents were close friends with the king and queen, and I grew up with their son, Andrew.

We used to play together as kids, but as we grew older, we drifted apart. He became more serious and aloof, while I became more rebellious and adventurous. He was always busy with his training and duties, while I was always looking for fun and trouble. We rarely saw each other, and when we did, we usually argued or ignored each other.

I didn't like him very much, but I respected him as the future king. He was handsome, strong, smart, and charismatic. He had dark brown hair, piercing blue eyes, a chiseled jawline, and a muscular body. He was the epitome of an alpha male, and every female wolf wanted him as their mate. Except me.

I didn't care who my mate was, as long as he loved me for who I was. I didn't want to change myself for anyone or follow anyone's rules. I valued my freedom and independence more than anything. I loved being a werewolf, but I hated the restrictions and expectations that came with it. I wanted to explore the world, not be confined to a pack.

I wanted to live my life on my terms, not be bound by a mate.

But deep down, I also wanted to belong. To feel accepted and appreciated. To have someone who understood me and supported me. To have someone who made me happy and fulfilled.

Maybe someone was out there, waiting for me at the ceremony.

I arrived at the palace with my parents, who were beaming with pride and excitement. They hoped that I would find my mate today and that he would be someone worthy of me.

I loved them too, but I also resented them sometimes. They didn't understand me or my dreams.

We entered the grand hall where the ceremony was held and joined the hundreds of other wolves who were already there. The hall was decorated with banners and flowers in the royal colors of blue and gold. The air was filled with anticipation and excitement, as well as nervousness and anxiety. Everyone was looking around, trying to catch a glimpse of their potential mates.

I scanned the crowd too, but I didn't feel anything special. No spark, no pull, no attraction. Just curiosity and boredom.

"Harper, behave yourself today," my mother whispered in my ear. "This is a very important occasion for our pack and our future king."

"I know, Mom," I whispered back impatiently. "You don't have to remind me."

"Please don't cause any trouble or embarrass us," she continued. "And don't reject your mate if you find him."

"I won't," I lied.

The truth was, I wasn't sure what I would do if I found my mate today. Part of me wanted to accept him and give him a chance, but part of me also wanted to reject him and run away.

It depended on who he was, and how he made me feel.

The ceremony began with the arrival of the royal family. They walked in with grace and dignity, followed by their guards and advisors. They wore the finest clothes and jewelry and radiated power and authority.

Everyone bowed their heads in respect and admiration, except me. I looked at them with curiosity and indifference, especially at Andrew. He looked more handsome and confident than ever, but also more arrogant and cold. He scanned the crowd with a bored and detached expression as if he didn't care about anyone or anything.

He didn't notice me, or if he did, he didn't acknowledge me.

I felt a pang of hurt and anger, but I quickly suppressed it.

Why should I care what he thought of me?

He was not my mate, not yet.

He walked up to the stage where his parents were waiting for him and took his place beside them. He smiled politely and nodded to the audience, but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

He looked unhappy and restless.

I wondered why. The king cleared his throat and spoke in a loud and clear voice.

"Welcome, my fellow wolves, to the mating ceremony of our future king, Andrew Lincoln. Today is a glorious day for our pack and our kind, as we witness the union of two souls who are destined to be together."

The crowd cheered and clapped, echoing his words.

I rolled my eyes. What a bunch of nonsense. Mateship was not a gift, it was a curse.

It was a way to control us, to limit us, to bind us.

It was a way to make us dependent on someone else, to make us weak and vulnerable. And I hated it. I hated being me.

The king continued his speech, praising his son and his future mate, whoever she was. He said that they would be a perfect match.

He said a lot of things that I didn't believe or care about.

But I pretended to listen anyway, out of respect for my parents and my pack.

They deserved better than me.

They deserved someone who shared their values and beliefs, someone who respected their traditions and rules, someone who wanted their mates and families, someone who loved their pack and their king.