Chapter 2:
Ana
Dad's words struck me with the force of a physical weapon. Marry the Shadow Alpha. The phrase was a death sentence, not a marriage plan. The sound of it seemed to suction all the air out of my lungs, leaving me breathless and dizzy.
My heart clenched tight, twisting painfully inside my chest, and my eyes immediately stung until hot, heavy tears broke free and spilled down my face before I could stop them.
"Why?" I screamed, the sound echoing hollowly against the hard walls. "I am your daughter! For the Goddess's sake, Dad, why are you doing this to me?"
He recoiled from me, a deep sneer twisting his features, flecks of spittle flying from his lips. His entire expression was wild, almost feral, with thick veins standing out violently on his neck.
"Daughter?" he barked back, his voice thick with unadulterated contempt. "You are no kin of mine. You do not fit into the Ironfang bloodline. You are simply a beast. If you were dead, you would at least spare me the perpetual sight of your wretched face."
The words were meticulously designed to pierce, and they found their mark deep within me. I turned my gaze toward Mom, a desperate, final plea in my eyes, even though I already knew the chilling answer I was about to receive. "Mom, please," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the ringing silence.
She looked away instantly and sharply, her nose wrinkling as if the very sound of my voice carried a foul odor. "I am not your mother," she stated coldly. "Birthing you brought irreversible shame upon this entire house."
Something vital inside me finally cracked. My knees gave way immediately, and the tight iron chain fastened to my ankle brutally jerked me up short.
The cold, unforgiving metal bit deeply into my skin as I crashed hard onto the rough stone floor, the sound echoing through the small room. A broken, agonizing sob tore its way from my chest, loud enough to bounce off the stone walls. "What did I do?" I cried out, my voice ragged. "Why does everyone hate me so much?"
For a single moment, there was absolute silence. Then Lia glided toward me—graceful, completely calm, her perfect dress untouched by the dirt or any hint of pity. Her voice was sweet, like honey poured slowly over shattered glass. "Don't cry, Ana," she cooed softly. "Mom and Dad truly only want what is best for you, dear."
I looked up at her through the veil of my tears. The sight of her—her transparent, fabricated sympathy, her soft, untouchable smile—ignited a sudden, scorching heat deep in my chest.
"Really?" My voice came out cracked, sharp, and more cutting than I had intended. "Then why did you not marry Alpha Derek? If this match is genuinely so great, then you should go pack your bags and go yourself."
The perfect, sweet mask immediately dropped from Lia's face. Her smirk flickered, instantly replaced by a flash of genuine surprise and hatred, and for once in her life, she was left completely without a swift, cruel reply. But Dad recovered for her. His growl rolled low and deep in his throat—the kind of sound that always made my stomach violently twist with fear.
"Ungrateful filth," he said, every word delivered like a heavy, deliberate hammer blow. "You should not even be allowed to breathe the same air."
I wiped my wet face with the back of my sleeve, dragging snot and tears across the already torn fabric. My chest still ached terribly. "Everyone knows Derek's wives die quickly," I said quietly, my voice trembling but managing to stay clear. "You are not arranging a marriage for me. You are deliberately feeding me to a graveyard."
Mom's eyes did not soften even a degree. She did not even hesitate in her reply. "Death is cleaner than the continuing burden of keeping you here," she said, the words falling from her lips almost lazily, as if discussing some trivial chore.
Her words dropped like a heavy, inescapable stone, and the profound silence that followed was heavier than any chain wrapped around my body.
For a moment longer, no one moved. I could not even bring myself to cry anymore. The room felt hollow, and my own heartbeat sounded slow and far away, distant in my ears.
Then Dad spoke again, his voice as frigid and final as the stone floor beneath my knees. "The maids will come tonight to prepare you. Derek arrives at moonrise. Be ready."
Just like that, in three short sentences, my entire fate was irrevocably sealed.
Lia lingered by the doorway, her satisfied smirk returning like a final, twisting dagger. She gave me one last long, triumphant look before the heavy door slammed shut. I heard the thick bolts slide home, the metallic sound echoing through the suddenly empty space.
I stayed exactly where I was, curled in a tight, protective ball on the cold, unforgiving floor. My wrists throbbed from the chain, and my throat burned where the iron collar constantly pressed into my skin. The tears came again, not in loud sobs, but in quiet, ceaseless streams, slowly dripping onto the stone.
The silence that pressed down on me was thick, heavy, and cold. I could hear the faint, distant rustle of the wind outside, and the mournful, faraway howl of wolves under the fading twilight. I stared up at the small window, where the last light of dusk was quickly draining away from the room. Sunrise. The single word carried a terrifying weight I could no longer deny or escape.
I closed my eyes, letting the crushing darkness swallow the pain, the hate, and the profound emptiness. For years, I had begged for a shred of love and acceptance. I had obediently done everything they asked of me. But love never came. Only chains, only endless cruelty, and now, only this terrible, final end.
A large part of me still trembled violently with paralyzing fear. But another, new part—the one that had been silent and hidden all these years—began to burn with a fierce, hot energy.
I pressed my palm hard against the rough, cold floor and whispered into the oppressive air, my voice low and suddenly fierce, "Let him come. I will drag him down into the dirt with me."