★Nuel's Pov★
I struggled against the iron grips that held me but it was useless. Their hands were too strong and their bodies too hefty compared to mine. A weak, trembling girl who could only whimper against their strength.
The lady stood proudly, her face still being delicately dabbed by her servants as though she were royalty, while the guards around me waited for her next command. A sickening thought crossed my mind—perhaps she wanted the satisfaction of stripping me herself.
My chest tightened. My thoughts raced wildly, colliding with one another in a storm of dread. What would happen if they uncovered my secret? The night was not even over and already my chance of escape had slipped from my grasp.
What of my father? What of my sister? What shame would they bear because of me? Again, I had failed—failed to carry out the plan they had put so much effort into, failed to save myself, failed at everything.
My trembling hands clutched at the neckline of my dress, holding it tight against my chest as though my life depended on it.
They must not know and they cannot.
The foam strapped against my chest.
The lingerie designed with curves that were not mine—the false breasts, false hips, and the false daughter.
My pulse thundered in my head as the lady's lips curled into a cruel smile. She flicked her wrist, summoning two of her servants forward. Their steps quickened predatory as their hands shot out to grab at me, prying my arms away from my chest. My dress was already torn at the sides; now they sought to rip apart the last defense I had left.
A cold dread swept through me, crushing and suffocating me. My temples throbbed as though my skull might split. I wished the earth itself would open beneath my feet and swallow me whole before they could expose me.
When my strength faltered and despair took over, a sharp voice thundered down the hallway.
"Maria!!!"
The sound cut through the tension like a blade.
The servants froze instantly, their heads snapping toward the direction of the voice. The guards' grip loosened, releasing me as though in fear of whoever had spoken.
"Stop this madness," the voice commanded but with a calm voice filled with an authority that demanded obedience.
I blinked through the haze of fear and saw her. A woman, aged and stern, her plain brown dress no finer than those of the other servants. Yet something about her presence silenced the hall.
Important? She did not look it. And yet the air bent to her will.
"Maria?" the younger lady spat, venom dripping from her sneer.
Her beautiful face twisted with malice. "Just because you raised Noca doesn't mean you're his mother. Once I become his Luna, I will see to it that you're crushed underfoot in this pack."
The older woman's gaze never wavered. Her tone stayed low and almost soft but the weight of her words pressed against the room like a heavy stone.
"You will have to become Luna first before you dare to make threats."
The lady's eyes widened, disbelief flashing across her face as though the ground beneath her had shifted. She stumbled back a step, her confidence cracking.
But quickly, venom returned to her voice. "Once Noca gains his alpha wolf tomorrow at the ceremony and marks me as his mate, you will be the first to taste punishment in this pack!"
She spat the words like poison and turned on her heel, her entourage of servants scurrying after her.
"Maria… she can be a little overboard sometimes. Too much, at times," the elderly lady said gently as she approached me and helped me to my feet.
I forced a mask of calm across my face, though inside I was anything but calm. My chest throbbed with panic, my mind tangled in a thousand questions I dared not voice.
She was from the North. That word alone had long since curdled in my heart, birthing bitterness. I had learned to hate it, to hate the people from there. Yet here she was, the second Northerner to show me a kindness I no longer believed myself worthy of receiving. The contradiction unsettled me.
Her eyes drifted down, lingering on my bare feet against the cold floor.
Instinctively, I pulled the hems of my dress loose, letting the fabric fall over them again.
Had she noticed? Could she tell? An elderly woman like her—surely she could distinguish the feet of a man from those of a woman. The thought sent prickles of dread down my spine.
"Follow me. I will lead you to your room," she said at last, her voice steady, her expression unreadable. She turned without waiting for an answer.
I followed cautiously, each step measured, my gaze darting around me.
I had to leave. I had to reach the bushes. The thought hammered inside my skull with every breath. Yet for now, I forced myself to obey. If I complied, they might leave me unguarded. And then I could plan my escape.
We reached a door and she pushed it open.
"You will be staying here from today."
I nodded silently and stepped inside. The door closed behind me with a soft thud. She offered no further words and soon her footsteps faded into the distance.
I exhaled, long and shaky. She hadn't locked the door. She hadn't said anything suspicious. Maybe she hadn't noticed what I feared she had.
I turned toward the room at last and my breath caught.
The sight before me was overwhelming, like I was stepping into a monarch's chamber. The room was vast, adorned with gold trimmings and glittering jewels that caught the light. A massive bed stood at its center, draped in silk, its headboard carved into the shape of a wolf's snarling head.
It was extravagant. Beautiful and far beyond anything I had ever laid eyes on.
But why would such a room be given to me? To me, their enemy's daughter? It didn't make sense.
I circled the bed in awe, brushing my fingers against the fine sheets, still struggling to understand.
Then my foot struck something hard. Pain shot up my leg, forcing a yelp from my throat. I bent down, clutching my foot but froze when I saw what I had hit.
It was a cage.
Small and metallic, its bars forged from thick iron. Not too big and not too small, just enough to hold a human or a wolf, whichever it was meant to occupy it.
A chill swept through me as my eyes lifted and I saw the name carved above its frame.
†NUELLA†
My sister's name. The one I am pretending to be.
My chest tightened violently. My breath came in short, sharp bursts. Why? Why was there a cage with her name? Why would she be imprisoned and reduced to an animal when she, I, in her place, had been sent here as a tribute bride?
Questions stormed my mind, ripping through me mercilessly.
Still reeling, my gaze flickered toward the side of the room where heavy curtains concealed a table. Something metallic glinted beneath the fabric. I thought I saw the edge of a whip.
Heart pounding, I pulled the curtain aside.
My body turned to ice.
On the table lay a collection of instruments that twisted my stomach: whips—some leather, others iron-tipped; handcuffs of various sizes; a pair of steel clamps; a grotesque metallic thong. Implements of restraint, of torture and of degradation.
Words abandoned me. My knees weakened, threatening to buckle beneath me. I stumbled back, trembling as I choked on air.
And then a hand caught me from behind, supporting me from falling by using their palm to grip my back.
A voice, dark and sharp as a blade brushed against my ear.
"I see you've found your room," it said, every word laced with malice.
"Welcome to hell, Nuella."
His voice slithered into my bones and as I stood shivering, fear swallowed me whole.