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Beyond The Empty Altar, My Reign Novel Cover

Beyond The Empty Altar, My Reign

9.1 / 10.0
Abandoned at the altar during her Mating Ceremony, Vera watches a livestream of Alpha Cain choosing her sister, Eris, instead. Humiliated and then imprisoned by her family, Vera discovers a horrifying plot: they intend to harvest her blood to sustain Eris. They believe she is a weak servant, unaware that her exile to the North transformed her into the lethal Commander V. Now, the warrior is ready to trade her life of servitude for a bloody war.

Beyond The Empty Altar, My Reign Chapter 1

I stood alone at the marble altar, the silence of the temple pressing against my eardrums.

It was my Mating Ceremony, but the groom was missing.

My phone buzzed with a notification: a livestream of my mate, Alpha Cain, skipping our union to welcome my sister, Eris, home.

In the video, he held her like she was fragile glass, captioning it: "True power recognizes true power."

When I returned to the Pack House, humiliated, I wasn't met with an apology.

I was met with a slap from my mother.

Eris, feigning a powerful "Alpha Aura," claimed my mere scent was poisoning her.

To "save" her, my family locked me in my room.

But the true betrayal came when I overheard their hushed whispers through the door.

"Use Vera," my mother said, her voice chillingly practical.

"She recovers fast. We can drain her blood weekly for Eris. She can stay as a servant to raise Cain and Eris's pups."

My blood ran cold.

They didn't just neglect me; they planned to harvest me like livestock.

They thought I was the weak Omega they exiled to the North years ago to peel potatoes.

They had no idea that in the North, I wasn't a servant.

I was Commander V, a warrior forged in ice and blood.

I reached under my bed and pulled out my black tactical duffel.

"Screw the meatloaf," I whispered.

I wasn't just leaving. I was going to war.

Chapter 1

The Empty Altar

Vera POV:

The Moon Temple was silent. Not the peaceful kind of silence, but the heavy, suffocating kind that presses against your eardrums.

I stood alone in the center of the marble altar. Moonlight streamed through the high glass dome, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. They were the only company I had.

Today was the Mating Ceremony. No big deal, just the moment my soul was supposed to be irrevocably tied to another for eternity. The ceremony is a formality, a public declaration before the pack that the Alpha has accepted his Luna.

But the Alpha was missing in action.

I looked down at my hands. They were trembling. I was wearing the ceremonial robe, a heavy garment embroidered with silver threads depicting the Asheville Pack's history. Three seamstresses, one month of labor.

Now, it felt like a shroud.

My phone buzzed against my hip like an angry hornet.

I shouldn't have checked it. A Luna should be poised. Patient. But I was done with patience.

I pulled the screen out. A notification from the pack's official social media account popped up.

"LIVE: Alpha Cain welcomes Eris Darkthorne home! #PowerCouple"

My thumb hovered over the screen. I pressed play.

The video was shaky, filmed at the private airfield. But the betrayal was in 4K.

There was my father, beaming with a pride he'd never wasted on me. There was my mother, wiping tears of joy. There was Dax, my brother, holding a bouquet of white lilies.

And there was Cain.

Cain Blackfang. My mate. The future Alpha.

He looked magnificent, dark hair swept back, jawline sharp enough to cut glass. But he wasn't looking at the camera. He was looking at the girl descending the jet stairs.

Eris. My sister.

She looked frail, leaning heavily on the railing, but her smile was triumphant. Cain rushed forward, bypassing the guards, and offered her his arm. She took it, leaning into him as if she owned him.

The caption read: "True power recognizes true power. Welcome home, our future."

A cold hollowness expanded in my chest. They were all there. My entire family. My mate. Welcoming the sister who abandoned the pack three years ago for the "prestigious" Wolfsbane Academy.

Meanwhile, I was standing at the altar, looking like an idiot.

I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind. The mate bond is supposed to be a private sanctuary. Right now, it felt like a busy signal.

Cain, I projected. Where are you? The High Priestess is staring at me.

The silence stretched. Then, his voice echoed in my head. Irritated. Distracted.

Not now, Vera. Eris just landed. She's exhausted. The flight was rough on her constitution.

Today is our ceremony, I replied, keeping my mental voice steady. The pack elders are watching.

Send them home, Cain snapped. Don't be selfish, Vera. Your sister has returned with the gift of an Alpha Aura. This is a historic day. The ceremony can wait. It's just a formality anyway.

The connection severed. Blocked.

Just a formality.

I looked at the empty pews. I looked at the High Priestess, who was pretending to polish a chalice to avoid my gaze. She pitied me. The Omega who thought she could be Luna.

"The ceremony is cancelled," I said. My voice sounded flat. Dead.

"Child," the Priestess started, "Alpha Cain is surely just detained..."

"He is not detained. He is occupied."

I reached up and unclasped the silver brooch. The heavy fabric slid off my shoulders, pooling on the dusty floor—a pile of expensive silk and broken dreams.

Underneath, I wore a simple black dress. Fitting.

"I'm going home."

I walked out of the temple. The night air was cool, but it didn't sting as much as the humiliation burning under my skin.

My wolf, Vespa, stirred. She had been suppressed for years by the drugs my parents forced on me to keep me "docile." But tonight, she was pacing.

He is not worthy, Vespa growled, her voice like grinding stones. We do not beg.

No, I agreed. We do not beg.

I drove back to the Pack House. Usually quiet, tonight it was blazing with light. Bass thumped through the walls.

I walked through the front door. The grand foyer was a nightmare of balloons and gold glitter: "WELCOME HOME ERIS."

Waiters circulated with champagne. The pack's elite were laughing, drinking, celebrating.

No one noticed me. I was the invisible daughter. The placeholder.

I headed for the stairs.

"Vera!"

Dax.

My brother was flushed, wine glass in hand. He looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and command.

"Where have you been?" he demanded. "Mom has been looking for you. The kitchen staff is overwhelmed."

"I was at the temple," I said quietly.

Dax rolled his eyes. "Still on about that? Look, Eris is hungry. She wants her favorite meatloaf. The one you make. Get to the kitchen. We need it ready in an hour."

He didn't ask. He ordered. To him, I wasn't his sister. I was a glorified servant who shared his blood.

"I am tired, Dax."

His expression darkened. "Don't start with the attitude. Eris is fragile. She needs protein to maintain her new Alpha Aura. Do you want her to get sick? Are you that jealous?"

Jealous.

I looked across the room. Cain was laughing at something Eris whispered, his hand resting on the small of her back. My spot.

He hadn't even looked for me.

"Fine," I said. "I'll go to the kitchen."

Dax nodded, satisfied. "Good. And wash up first. You smell like... dust."

I went upstairs, but not to wash up. I went to my bathroom.

On the sink sat a bar of soap. A gift from Eris, sent a week ago. "Lavender and Honey," the note said. "I know you love cheap scents."

I picked it up. My skin tingled painfully.

I used it once, and my skin broke out in a rash so severe I couldn't shift for two days. I thought it was an allergy.

But now, with Vespa awake, I smelled the truth underneath the lavender.

Wolfsbane. Trace amounts. Just enough to weaken a wolf over time. Just enough to keep an Omega looking sickly.

Eris hadn't just ignored me. She had been poisoning me.

I looked at the mirror. The girl staring back was pale, but her eyes... flecks of gold were eating the dull brown.

They think we are weak, Vespa whispered. Show them.

I dropped the soap into the trash.

I walked to my desk, opened my leather-bound journal, and picked up a pen.

On the page marked with today's date, I wrote a single line.

"Mating Ceremony: Mate absent."

It was an obituary for my love.

I looked out the window toward the north. Far beyond the manicured lawns and political games lay the Northern Outpost.

Ice and blood. A place where I had spent my childhood exiled because my parents couldn't afford to feed a "useless" Omega during the famine years.

They thought I peeled potatoes there. They didn't know what I really did in the snow.

I closed the journal. Screw the meatloaf.

I was going to pack.

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Beyond The Empty Altar, My Reign of Contents

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