Xira POV
The doors to the inner sanctuary opened with a long, heavy groan that vibrated through the stone floor and settled in my bones.
The scent hit me instantly. It was the same one that had drifted through the forest—heavy, primal, and scarily magnetic. It called to a part of me I never knew existed, tempting me to ignore the dread pooling in my stomach and step into the dark.
I stopped at the threshold. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run far away. A cold, suffocating weight settled in my lungs; Something told me, that the moment I crossed this line, my life would no longer be my own.
"Who… who are you?" I whispered, my throat so dry the words felt like sandpaper. "What do you want with me?"
The guard didn't answer. Instead, his lips curled into a cruel, jagged smile.
"The Alphas have summoned you," he said, his voice flat and devoid of pity. "And trust me, little wolf, you don't want to keep them waiting."
Before I could draw another breath, his hand slammed into the small of my back. I stumbled forward, my knees hitting the polished stone of the sanctuary with a sharp crack.
The chamber was big, yet it felt smaller than the main hall, more intimate and far more dangerous.
Tall pillars carved with the ancient crests of Stormfang disappeared into a ceiling swallowed by shadows. Torches flickered along the walls, their flames dancing to the rhythm of the heavy silence.
This was the Alpha's sanctuary.
A place ordinary members of the pack were never allowed to enter.
I myself had never been.
My stomach twisted uneasily.
Something felt terribly wrong.
The guard forced me forward, his hand pressing hard against my back.
My heart began to pound harder with every step.
At the far end of the sanctuary stood five men.
Two of whom I recognized immediately.
The priest who had nearly officiated my mating ceremony with Axel.
The sight of him sent a chill down my spine.
Beside him stood my father.
He looked rigid and furious, but there was something else in his expression too, something calculating. Something cold.
But none of them were what stole the air from my lungs.
It was the two men standing opposite my father.
They stood like twin shadows carved from the same storm.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dangerous.
Their presence filled the entire chamber with a suffocating weight that made every instinct inside me scream.
Alphas.
Both of them.
The air itself seemed to tighten as their gazes settled on me.
I froze where I stood.
Neither of them spoke.
They simply stared.
And the intensity of that stare made my skin prickle.
And that scent... it was pouring off them in waves. It was a dizzying mix of cedar and rain, so intoxicating that for a split second, I wanted to crawl toward them just to breathe it in.
"Can we begin the rites?" the priest asked. His voice cut through the silence like a blade.
"Huh?" I blinked, my head spinning. "What… what rites?"
The stately looking man standing beside my father spoke, his voice calm and almost pitying.
"You are to be mated to the twins."
The words struck me like lightning and I just stared at the man's expensive clothes.
For a moment, I couldn't breathe.
I stared at the men who were to be my masters, my mind racing with a hundred questions. Why could I smell them so clearly? Why did they affect me differently than any wolf I'd ever met?
One of the twins stepped forward. He didn't hide his loathing. His gaze traveled over me with clinical coldness, raking over my white hair and my trembling frame as if I were a piece of diseased meat.
"Your father is a coward who chose to hide behind a girl rather than face a real fight," he said. His voice was a low growl that sent a shiver of pure ice down my spine. "You are merely the payment for his life."
I looked at my father. He didn't deny it; he only scowled at me, his eyes full of resentment, as if I were the one who had failed him.
The twin reached down, his fingers like iron as he gripped my arm and hauled me toward the priest. He shoved me into the space between him and his silent brother. The tension was so thick I feared that if I breathed too loudly, they would simply snap and tear me apart.
The priest began to drone the ancient words of the rite. They blurred into a hum in my ears as I spiraled. I had heard stories of what conquering Alphas did to their prisoners—was this my protection or my execution?
Suddenly, the chanting stopped. The silence returned, heavier than before.
I looked up and noticed all eyes were on me.
I shrank, looking around fearfully and wondering what I had done wrong this time.
"Do you Xira Varleen accept this mating bond with Elias and Luther?"
I looked at the twin who hadn't spoken, Luther.
His eyes looked like they wanted me to say no.
His body was rigid, his jaw set so tight I thought his teeth might break. He looked at me with such disgust and for a moment, a dark, crazy spark of humor flared in my chest. I wondered what would happen if I said no.
Would they whip my father?
The image of him tied to a post, finally paying for his own actions, was so satisfying that a small, bitter smile touched my lips before I could stop it.
"Yes," I said, my voice gaining a sudden, sharp edge. "I accept."
The priest looked up, his eyes moving to the two giants flanking me. "Elias and Luther. You may mark your mate."
Their disgust was so palpable, One's face contorted into a mask of pure revulsion, his upper lip curling back to reveal a flash of bone-white teeth while the other actually took a step back.
"Mark her?" he spat the words, his voice dripping with venom. "Edmund Varleen's blood is tainted. His child does not deserve our marks."
The words cut through me, exactly as they intended.
They wanted me to know my place.
It was going to be a hard long journey ahead.
The room remained in thick silence then the stately man came forward.
"Xira, this is Elias." He said, pointing at the talkative twin. "And that is Luther. They are your Alphas."
Before I could understand what he meant, Was he saying my father was no longer Alpha, Elias interrupted my thoughts.
We have a gift for our bride," he said, his voice dropping into a smooth, predatory purr.
My head snapped up. The way he said 'gift' made my skin crawl; it was the tone of a man who found joy in little babies that cried.
Elias didn't wait for an answer. He reached out, his hand like a shackle around my upper arm, and hauled me toward the back of the sanctuary. I stumbled, my feet heavy, as he led me up a winding stone staircase.
I could feel the cold, equally scary presence of Luther behind us.
We emerged onto a high landing that overlooked the packhouse and the sprawling walls of Stormfang. I drew in a jagged breath of the evening air. It was crisp and cool, a sweet contrast to the suffocating, scent-choked atmosphere of the sanctuary. For one heartbeat, I felt a flicker of relief.
Then, Elias leaned in close, his breath ghosting over my ear.
"There can't be a wedding celebration without decorations, can there, Xira?"
He pointed toward the outer perimeter walls. At first, they looked like standard flags, dark shapes silhouetted against the reddish tint of the evening sky. I squinted, trying to make sense of the round shapes hoisted on top the spikes.
Then the wind shifted.
The golden evening light caught a familiar shimmer of gold. It wasn't a banner. It was hair—matted with blood, swaying gently in the breeze.
My heart didn't just stop; it felt like it withered in my chest. I knew that hair. I knew the line of that jaw, now frozen in a permanent, silent scream. It was Axel. My groom.
The man I was supposed to be mated to, now reduced to a grim trophy on my own father's walls.
The world tilted. The "fresh" air I'd been so grateful for suddenly tasted like copper and rot.
I collapsed forward, my hands slapping against the cold stone of the railing, and began to heave even though my belly was empty.