The moon hung heavy in the night sky, casting silver beams through the cracks of Kael Draven's fortress. The stone walls carried a chill, but the air inside burned with tension. Elara's body still remembered the sting of his touch from the night before, the way his voice had threaded through her like smoke—dark, suffocating, dangerous.
She had been marked by circumstance, chained to a fate she hadn't chosen, yet every step deeper into Kael's world reminded her: escape would not be simple.
Elara woke in the large bed draped in black furs, the lingering scent of leather, smoke, and pine reminding her whose room this belonged to. Not hers. Never hers. Yet she was trapped here.
The heavy door creaked open. A tray of food was carried in by a servant who bowed quickly and left without a word. The silence pressed on her, until it broke with a voice that cut sharper than a blade.
"You're awake."
Kael stood at the doorway, shoulders broad, hair falling loose around his face. His eyes—cold, predatory silver—watched her as if he could read every thought she dared to hide.
"I didn't give you permission to sleep in," he added, his tone sharp.
Elara rose from the bed, her hands curling into fists. "I don't need your permission to breathe, Alpha."
His smirk was dangerous. He closed the distance in long, deliberate strides, his presence overwhelming. "Brave. Or foolish. Either way, it excites me." His fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "But remember this—your defiance belongs to me now. Everything you are belongs to me."
Her heart thudded painfully, yet she refused to look away. "I don't belong to anyone."
For a moment, something flickered in his expression—pain, almost human—but it vanished. He leaned closer, his breath ghosting against her lips. "You will."
The day spiraled into chaos. Outside, the pack warriors trained in the courtyard, their roars echoing. Inside, Elara was dragged to the great hall where Kael's council awaited.
Whispers filled the chamber. "The human bride…" "She won't last." "The Alpha will break her."
Kael's voice silenced them all. "This is Elara Hayes. My mate. My Luna."
The declaration thundered across the hall. Elara stiffened, caught between fury and fear. Mate? He hadn't asked. He had claimed.
A sharp laugh pierced the silence. Liora stepped forward, her eyes gleaming with malice. "A Luna? She's weak. She's human."
Elara's jaw tightened. Kael's hand brushed her lower back—possessive, burning. "Weak?" he growled, eyes locked on Liora. "Then watch her survive me."
The council erupted into argument, but Elara barely heard them. His words seared into her skin, binding her tighter to the Alpha she should despise.
Later that night, Kael dragged her to the balcony overlooking his lands. The wind whipped her hair around her face, but he didn't let her pull away. His arm caged her against the railing, his breath hot against her ear.
"You will learn my world," he said, voice low and rough. "You will learn my rules. You will sleep in my bed, eat at my table, wear my mark. The sooner you stop fighting me, Elara, the easier it will be."
Her pulse raced. "And if I never stop fighting?"
Kael's lips brushed her neck, a dangerous promise. "Then I'll enjoy taming you."
But beneath his threats, Elara glimpsed something else in his eyes—a crack in the armor, a ghost of the man he might have been before betrayal and curse turned him savage. And that frightened her most of all. Because a part of her, small and treacherous, wanted to know what it would be like to touch that brokenness, to heal it.
Yet before she could respond, a horn sounded in the distance. A warning. The gates were under threat.
Kael's expression hardened instantly. He released her, his dominance shifting into raw violence. "Stay here."
But Elara knew better. She wouldn't stay behind.
Not this time.