In Search of the Last Virgin Novel – Chapter 1 Reyna I’ve been told my entire life that I needed to stay a virgin. It could be our only shot at ever making it out of the slums, as my parents always said. When I was younger, I never understood what they meant. I wasn’t very in tune with the world, except marble games in the streets after school, or combat fighting in the pits to win a little extra cash for my family. My parents had one old, battered radio sitting on our worn-out cabinet. They used it to listen to pack politics or border updates, but I had never been quite interested in the world outside our dusty windows and narrow streets. In my eyes, the alphas and king didn’t care one bit about us in the slums who suffered everyday. So I had no intentions of hearing anything about them either. But when I was sixteen, my parents sat my older sister down. Genevieve was eighteen at the time, and they explained exactly what was required of her. That was the first time I heard the name of the school.
The prestigious Blood Moon Academy. They told her they had preserved her purity to give her a chance at becoming a queen. At first, I thought it was just a sick joke or a dark fairytale, but the more I eavesdropped, the more I realized just how true it was. The Six Packlands are ruled by the Ironfang Dynasty, a bloodline of Alphas and Royals who are as powerful as they are doomed. A millennia-old curse ensures that every first-born heir dies on their thirtieth birthday. The only known cure is an ancient legend where the King must marry and mate with the Lunar Virgin. But she isn’t just any random virgin girl. She has to be a direct descendant of the first mate of the original Ironfang Alpha, and has to pass and win the Blood Moon Trials. This special virgin has never been found. Thousands of girls in the Six Packlands has preserved themselves for a shot at the Blood Moon Trials, hoping to be the chosen one who breaks the curse and marries the King. It sounded like a perfect fairytale.
It sounded like a clear path out of the bottom of the pack for our family. So, Genevieve left. On the day she disappeared into the mist of Mount Ether, I began listening to that old, beat-up radio every single day. I waited to hear the grand announcement that King Sebian had found his beloved virgin in the person of Miss Genevieve Moon. But the announcement never came. Every month, a list of the remaining candidates’ last names was read over W-PACK-AM, the pack’s radio station. We never know if the Moon mentioned was Genevieve, but we had hope. My parents and I held our breaths for the six-month duration of the trials, until the final announcement was made: “The King has not found his Lunar Virgin in this season’s cohort. The Trials will recommence in two weeks in hopes of the King finding a mate. May the last virgin standing be the one. Moon Goddess bless the Ironfang Bloodline.” After that announcement, I waited for Genevieve to come home and tell me stories of the velvet curtains and horrors of the trials.
I waited for the door to swing open so I could see her bright blue eyes and that wide, warm smile again. But Genevieve never came home. Mom and Dad became distant, always arguing, always talking in hushed, frantic tones. On days when we had no food, they’d go into their rooms and have one of those heated whisper-talks. I never caught much, but sometimes I heard Mom sob, “She is our last daughter, David.” I didn’t know what that academy did to my sister, but I was determined to find out. I was determined to find her. The crazy thing was that thousands of she-wolves still saved themselves until their eighteenth birthday, just so they could get a chance at becoming the King’s last virgin. To me, it was a sick play of power. The Crown took and extorted innocent young women in the name of finding the “one” for the King. I understood the seriousness of the curse, but no one ever knew what happened to those girls after the Trials were over. The Crown never made a move to inform the public.
Yet, so many girls willingly volunteered, praying for an acceptance letter. Everyone thought they had what it took. Everyone thought they’d be the one to live happily ever after with the king. But I couldn’t care less about the money or the crown. I just needed to find out what happened to my sister. I needed to know if she was still alive. And so here I was. I had just celebrated my eighteenth birthday, and my parents sat me down in the very seat Genevieve had occupied two years ago. They told me they’d sent in my application for Blood Moon Academy, just as they had for her. Acceptance was competitive, and yet, somehow, I was accepted. I stared at the golden-sealed envelope on the coffee table as my mother spoke. “…It’s very important that you try and win this Trial, Reyna. It could finally get us out of this house. Your father can pay off the debtors before things get ugly. Do you understand what we’re saying to you?” I looked up and met my mother’s weary, sad eyes. My father sat beside her with his head bowed. He hadn’t said a word, but I knew this was hard for him.
He looked like he’d aged ten years in just a few days. He looked like a man who felt he had failed us. I nodded as my mother looked at me with expectant eyes. I would have done it either way. This was my only shot at knowing what happened to Genevieve. Maybe if I found her before the Trials even started, we could escape and come home. We could work odd jobs, help our parents, and eventually open the bakery we always dreamed of. I didn’t need to be a princess to help my family. I just needed my sister. “If Genevieve didn’t win,” I mumbled, my curiosity finally piquing through the dread. “Why do you think I can?” A tear slipped down my mother’s cheek, and I saw the answer in her eyes: desperation. They were at their wit’s end with bills and debts. They would do anything to take a chance at a way out, even if it meant I might go missing, too. “Genevieve was a smart girl,” Mom said, and it pained me that she spoke of her in the past tense. “But she was very much caught up on the King instead of the Trials, like many girls who enter.” Mom smiled sadly at me, cupping my cheeks. “I know you’re different, Reyna.
Your resilience gives you the best shot.” I nodded, resting my hand on her thigh. Many people would see them as cruel—selling off their daughters into this awful system. But they weren’t bad parents. They tried their very best, and I’d always be grateful for them. Even if I wouldn’t have made the same choice, I understood why they were doing it. There was a good chance that after I left, they wouldn’t even have enough to eat for days. “When will I be leaving?” I asked. “Today,” Mom said, the word hitting me like a physical blow. “The vehicle will come to escort you shortly.”