Claimed By The Ruthless Alpha

Chapter 5

As I sat on my bed, careful not to ruin the "masterpiece" Raven had meticulously crafted, I realized that if I thought getting ready had taken forever, I hadn’t seen anything yet. Raven and I continued to chat, her excitement about meeting her future mate infectious, even though I could only muster a supportive front for my best friend.

“He’s definitely going to be taller than me; that’s a given. And I really hope he has blue eyes. I’ve always had a thing for blue-eyed boys,” Raven mused from the bathroom, and I chuckled softly.

“I’m sure he’ll be everything you’re looking for—he’s your mate, after all,” I replied, infusing my voice with as much cheer as I could manage while quickly texting Gideon.

**Me (6:00 PM):** Ready for the ball?

**Gideon (6:01 PM):** Been ready for hours. Mom insisted I get ready early, though I’m not sure why.

**Me (6:03 PM):** Raven’s been on a mission with makeup and a curling iron. I think I’ve got it worse. :P

**Gideon (6:04 PM):** I’m sure it’s worth it. Want me to come over?

**Me (6:05 PM):** No need. Raven’s still getting ready. We’ll just meet you at the entrance.

**Gideon (6:06 PM):** Sounds good, gorgeous. See you there!

After setting my phone aside, I returned my attention to Raven, who was now discussing how she hoped her mate would be from another pack so she could finally leave. She’d been tired of our pack’s traditional views on women for a long time, and I couldn’t blame her. The idea of women being mere servants to their mates never sat well with either of us. We both agreed that a mate should be a partner, someone who contributes and voices opinions, not just someone who obeys.

When Raven finally emerged from the bathroom in her ballgown, I made a point of exaggerating my reaction, though I knew she’d look stunning. The baby pink dress draped elegantly to the floor, the low neckline highlighting her figure. Her black hair, skillfully curled and pinned back with a sparkling silver clip, framed her face beautifully. The subtle pink eyeshadow she wore made her brown eyes stand out against her olive skin.

“You look absolutely amazing!” I complimented her, determined not to let anything ruin her night.

“Psh, I know, but thanks anyway!” Raven grinned, winking at me.

As she glanced at her phone, her excitement was palpable—it was time to head to the ball. Stifling a groan, I stood up and grabbed the small purse Raven had given me. I knew my mother wouldn’t approve of our dresses, but since I was being forced to attend, I didn’t care much about her opinion.

As we made our way downstairs, we noticed my parents admiring how beautiful Aria looked. Valen and Astrid were snuggled up on the sofa, and when Raven and I entered the room, all eyes turned toward us.

“Wow, you two look stunning!” Valen exclaimed with a smile, while even Astrid seemed genuinely supportive.

My mother, however, sighed as she took in my dress, her eyes lingering on the exposed skin. “That’s the dress you chose?”

“Yup. If I’m going, I’m wearing what I want,” I replied with a shrug, turning to compliment Aria on her appearance.

Aria’s curly blonde hair was styled in an elegant up-do, dotted with small pearls, and her cream-colored dress, though modest, flattered her slim figure. “You look beautiful, Aria,” I told her with a small smile, and she returned it, though something flickered in her eyes.

“I don’t think your parents would approve of that dress, Raven,” my mother remarked, eyeing Raven’s attire with disapproval.

“Why don’t you let them tell me that?” Raven quipped sweetly, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

With a resigned sigh, my mother led the way out of the house, my father following close behind. Valen wished us luck as we left, his arms wrapped tightly around Astrid in a way that made me uncomfortable. The depth of their connection, the way they seemed to need each other to survive, terrified me. I couldn’t imagine giving someone that much power over me.

Raven and I linked arms as we hurried out the door and into the large sedan waiting outside. As we drove, the knot of anxiety in my stomach grew, turning into something sticky and overwhelming. No matter how much I tried to convince myself that tonight would be fine, I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.

The moment I saw the flower-covered lanterns lining the road, I realized the ball was being held outside this year. “Is the ball outside this time?” I asked curiously.

My mother nodded approvingly. “Yes, the girls spent weeks setting this up. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

As Raven and Aria chattered excitedly about their future mates, I pressed my head against the cool window, trying to calm myself. When we finally arrived at the dirt lot, I was confused not to see the ball in sight. But as we walked toward the forest, I began to hear the sounds of the event—music, laughter, the clinking of glasses.

We followed the lantern-lit path through the trees until we reached a massive clearing, far larger than I had anticipated. A huge canopy tent covered the area, with white flowers and vines cascading down from above. Rustic lanterns were scattered throughout, adding to the enchanting atmosphere.

“Wow,” Raven breathed, clearly impressed.

“They did an amazing job,” I agreed, taking in the decorations.

As I looked around at the crowd, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of panic. The sheer number of unmated wolves was overwhelming. The odds of not finding my mate tonight seemed slim, and the fear coursed through me as I realized just how vast the gathering was. The tables laden with food and the glass-topped seating areas added to the sense of grandeur, but I could barely focus on them. All I could think about was the overwhelming possibility that tonight might change everything.

Raven and I exchanged nervous glances, linking arms as we stepped into the tent, coming into full view of the crowd. The sheer number of males who turned to look at us was impossible to ignore. Some seemed to grimace in concentration, while others sniffed the air, as if hoping to catch an elusive scent. Curiosity got the better of me as I scanned the crowd of unmated men and women, wondering if I could spot any members of the Silver Moon pack. I half-expected them to look scarred or vicious compared to the rest, but before I could dwell on it, a familiar voice jolted us.

"Well, hello there, beautiful," Gideon greeted us with a wink, his eyes roaming over us both.

A small part of me felt a strange sense of relief knowing I wasn’t alone in not wanting a mate. Gideon, for reasons of his own, seemed to share that sentiment, and it was comforting to have someone on my side.

I couldn’t help but notice how good Gideon looked in his suit. His usually unruly sandy hair was styled neatly, and the green in his tie made his eyes pop. I wouldn’t be surprised if Raven had a hand in his outfit choice.

Around us, people laughed, chatted, and swayed to the lively music playing in the background. I turned to Raven, noticing her face twisted in a strange grimace as she sniffed the air.

"I-I think my mate is here," she whispered, incredulity in her voice. I stifled a laugh, knowing how much she had longed to find her mate, only to now be frightened by the prospect. Her fear mirrored my own, but I held it back.

Gideon, on the other hand, was giving me a strange look, as if he was waiting for something to happen. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was going on with him. Just then, another familiar voice rang out, drawing our attention.

"Katarina! Gideon!" Draven’s cheerful voice boomed as he approached us with a wide smile. I turned to find Raven, but she had already disappeared, likely in search of her mate.

Draven was an old friend from a neighboring pack. Each year, when I was forced to attend the ball, we would sneak away to the woods or let our wolves run free. I had never been attracted to Draven or anyone else, for that matter. After what happened to me, I had closed myself off, and I had no regrets.

Draven had always been handsome, but this year, he looked different. His once round face had become more angular, and his lanky frame had filled out with muscle, his black hair cropped short in almost a military style.

"Hey, Draven!" I greeted him with a smile.

"Didn’t think I’d find you here, shorty. Thought you’d ditch," Draven teased, smirking down at me. In one swift movement, he lifted me off my feet, encasing me in a bear hug. A startled squeak escaped me as I dangled above the floor.

"Draven, put me down! You know I hate that," I grumbled, kicking my feet in protest until he finally set me down.

I noticed a grimace cross Gideon’s face as he watched the exchange. Normally, he and Draven got along fine, but something seemed off.

"So... want to dance, Katarina?" Draven asked hurriedly, glancing at Gideon.

"Sure, why not. Wanna join us?" I asked Gideon, flashing a smile. He sighed, explaining that he needed to keep an eye on his younger sister. I frowned as I watched him walk away, his shoulders slightly slumped.

"Doesn’t take a hint, does he?" Draven scoffed, his eyes following Gideon’s retreating figure.

"Um, what?" I turned to Draven, confusion evident on my face.

"He likes you, Katarina..." Draven trailed off, raising an eyebrow at my dumbfounded expression.

"Well, yeah. He and Raven are my best friends," I replied, feeling my cheeks heat as I realized what Draven was implying.

"Not like that. He likes you, Katarina," Draven emphasized, smirking at my embarrassment.

I grimaced, "If that’s true, he can tell me himself. Now, are we going to dance or what?"

With a shrug and another glance in Gideon’s direction, Draven led me onto the dance floor. As we moved to the upbeat music, I made sure to keep some distance between us. I couldn’t help but notice how close some of the other couples were dancing—too close, in my opinion. Draven didn’t try to pull me closer, but I caught him glancing at those couples.

After a few songs, I excused myself, telling Draven I was going to get some food and a drink. In truth, I just needed a moment to myself. I wandered further from the entrance, searching for a quiet spot to collect my thoughts. Finally, I found an empty table near the back of the tent, close to a large table laden with food and drinks. I grabbed a soda and a small plate of colorful pastries before sitting down. For once, no one paid me any attention, allowing me a moment of peace to sort through the turmoil inside me. The anxiety I felt at this ball was different from what I had experienced in previous years.

Just as I bit into one of the pastries, I caught a scent that made me freeze.

Sandalwood with a hint of citrus. The smell of fresh earth after rain.

My body stiffened as the scent enveloped me. While my mind screamed in panic, I found myself taking deep breaths of the intoxicating aroma. Nothing in my life had ever smelled as good as this. My brain tried to rationalize what it could be, but my heart already knew. I could feel my wolf, Rose, pacing and panting, urging me to find the source.

Mustering all the strength I could, I stood and faced the crowd. As the music fell silent, people began looking around in confusion. Breathing in the scent deeply, I watched as the crowd parted in fear, someone making their way toward me.

I had never seen this man before, but my gut told me who he was.

"Mate. That’s our mate!" Rose rejoiced as my world came crashing down.

Alpha Dominic Grimstone emerged from the crowd, towering over everyone in his path. The people around us stared at me in horror, as if bracing themselves for something terrible.

Standing just five feet away from me, I finally understood why the rumors surrounded him. He was enormous, easily over six feet tall, with a frame that dwarfed mine. His hands were as large as my face, and I suppressed a shudder, thinking about how easily he could end my life. Taking a deep breath, I looked up into the face of my mate and felt my mouth go dry.

Despite the rumors painting him as a monster, he looked anything but. His dark hair was longer on top, shaved short on the sides, and tattoos snaked up his neck and down his forearms. Unlike the others, he wasn’t in a suit but wore a deep blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, paired with black slacks. His face was sharp, with a chiseled jawline, full lips, and deep gray eyes that seemed to bore into me. His expression was cold and distant, not pleased in the slightest. Maybe he didn’t want a mate either. A flicker of hope ignited in me—perhaps he would let me go.

But that hope was crushed the moment he spoke.

"Mine," his rough voice growled, leaving no room for doubt.