Elara's POV
"Prepare yourself. You're getting married tonight." it's been decided. He said with utmost finality.
The words struck me like a blade driven straight through my chest cold, sharp, merciless.
For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. Surely my mind was playing tricks on me. Surely this was another cruel joke, another attempt to frighten me into obedience.
"What?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Married… tonight?"
I swallowed hard. "To whom?"
The silence that followed was deadly.
Slowly, The angry man turned toward me, his expression darkening like an approaching storm. The air in the room thickened, heavy with dominance and restrained violence. Every instinct in my body screamed at me to run but there was nowhere to go.
"You dare question me?" he barked, his voice echoing off the stone walls as he took a step closer.
Fear crawled up my spine, wrapping itself tightly around my heart. I knew this look. I knew this tone. When Father looked at me like that, pain was never far behind.
My hands trembled at my sides.
"I— I was just asking—"
"Silence!"
The word cracked like thunder.
He loomed over me, towering and unforgiving. "You have always been far too bold for someone who owns nothing not even her own life."
Tears burned at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Crying only amused him. Weakness only fueled his cruelty.
He tilted his head slightly, studying my face with unsettling calm. Then his lips curved into a slow, chilling smile.
"Perhaps I should scar this little pretty face of yours," he said thoughtfully. "It would remind you of your place."
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
Before I could react, his hand shot out and clamped around my neck.
Air vanished.
I gasped, my mouth opening uselessly as he lifted me slightly off the ground. My feet barely brushed the floor as I clawed desperately at his wrist, my vision blurring.
Pain erupted in my throat as his grip tightened.
Then his other hand rose.
I saw it clearly his fingers lengthening, bones shifting as claws extended, sharp and gleaming under the torchlight. They hovered inches from my face.
I froze.
This was it.
I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing myself for the agony that would forever mark me.
"Release her, Father."
Lyra's voice cut through the moment, smooth and calm as if she were commenting on the weather.
"It wouldn't be nice to scar her face on her wedding day."
The pressure on my neck paused.
"Yes, dear," another voice chimed in softly. "We would look terribly improper in front of everyone."
Luna Elenore Vale stepped forward, her expression composed, her eyes calculating. Not a shred of concern touched her face only appearances mattered to her. They always had.
Slowly, Alpha Aldrich loosened his grip.
I collapsed to the floor, gasping violently as air rushed back into my lungs, burning all the way down. I coughed and choked, clutching my throat as tears spilled freely now, unrestrained.
"You lucky bitch," he snarled.
Before I could move, he shoved me backward with brutal force.
My back slammed against the wall.
Agony exploded through my body, white-hot and consuming. I slid down, my legs giving way as I struggled to breathe properly, every inhale a painful reminder of how close I had come to death.
"Today is your lucky day," Alpha Aldrich said coldly, stepping back as though I were nothing more than a nuisance. "Prepare for the wedding."
His gaze lingered on me for a moment empty, merciless before he turned and strode toward the door.
The door shut behind him with a final, echoing thud. That was the man the I thought was my father.... Alpha Aldrich vale.
Luna Elenore the woman I thought would be my mother. followed her mate without a backward glance, her long dress whispering across the floor like a ghost passing through.
I thought it was over.
I was wrong.
Soft footsteps approached.
I barely had time to lift my head before Lyra crouched in front of me, her lips curved into a smile that sent chills through my soul.
"Just because Father couldn't scar your face tonight," she whispered sweetly, "doesn't mean I don't have other plans." said Lyra my so called sister.
My eyes widened.
Her fist slammed into my stomach.
Pain ripped through me so violently that my scream tore itself from my throat before I could stop it. My body folded forward instinctively, nausea rising sharply.
Tears streamed down my face as I gasped for air.
Then came another kick.
And another.
Each blow landed with precise cruelty, stealing my strength piece by piece. I curled inward, trying desperately to protect myself, but it was useless.
"You should be grateful," Lyra sneered, her voice dripping with venom. "You're getting married in my place."
I whimpered, my body trembling uncontrollably as she finally stepped back.
She straightened her dress, brushing invisible dust from the fabric as though she hadn't just broken me.
"Hm," she huffed. "Such a mess."
She turned toward the door, then paused.
"Oh," she said lightly, glancing back at me. "I almost forgot."
My heart pounded painfully as she smiled.
"You're going to love your new home, Elara."
Then she walked out.
The door closed.
Silence swallowed the room.
I lay there on the cold stone floor, my body aching, my throat raw, my heart shattered into pieces I didn't know how to put back together. Every breath felt heavy. Every second stretched endlessly.
Married.
Tonight.
To a man I had never met.
A bargaining chip. A replacement. An offering.
Fear wrapped around me tighter than my father's hands ever had.
Who was this mysterious man they were handing me over to so easily?
What kind of monster awaited me beyond these walls?
I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling as one terrifying thought echoed through my mind
Will he be better than the Iron Claw Pack…
or far worse?