The air in the banquet hall was thick with the scent of roasted meat and celebratory wine, a stark contrast to the tightening knot in my stomach. It was the Feast of the Moon, a time for reverence and revelry, but for me, Aysel, it was just another day to be invisible. Alpha Zavier's voice boomed, commanding attention, and I kept my head down, a silent shadow among the bustling servants.

My small frame was a constant target for mishaps, and true to form, fate worked against me. A stray leg, a clumsy stumble, and the tray of wine in my hands flew, tumbling loudly to the ground. The crimson liquid splattered against the pristine white dress of Skylar, the Alpha’s daughter, right in the middle of his solemn speech. Silence descended, heavy and suffocating. I dared to raise my head, and in that agonizing moment, my eyes met Alpha Zavier's. His gaze was a burning inferno of hatred.

Skylar’s blood-curdling scream pierced the quiet, and then her hand struck, once, twice, a flurry of blows to my head. Tears welled, blurring the faces of the staring crowd, but I refused to break. Not here. Not now. When the Alpha finally cleared his throat, signaling the end of Skylar’s assault, two men seized me, dragging me out of the hall. My world, already a dim canvas, went black.