Keala's POV
Night had not fallen long ago. The pale glow of the moon filtered through the small window of the dungeon. I heard footsteps, heavy ones approaching. That orange haired man again, but he wasn't alone. I could hear others with him.
So, this was it? The execution? Too bad they didn't realize I had other plans. I would escape on their own grounds.
They walked in and came over to my cell. The orange-haired one unlocked the metallic bars separating us. Two guards stepped inside. One picked me up while the other unlocked the chains binding me to the wall. They chained my hands together and began to drag me out.
As we passed the next cell, I glanced in. The man I'd spoken to before had his back turned, his hair messy and unkempt. Then we kept moving.
The walk was long—it took far longer than I expected. I could hear murmurs and chatter up ahead. But something was off. My chest tightened, my body temperature shifted. My wolf stirred within me, on edge, alert as if something was about to happen.
A powerful scent suddenly hit me. Lavender. Mint. Sharp and clean.
I smelled him.
The guards halted.
A tall, devastatingly handsome man walked toward us. His silver eyes locked with mine. Something inside me pulled taut. The feeling was sweet... and terrifying. I didn't want this.
He drew closer. I reacted.
Without thinking, I summoned a dagger and flung it at him. It hit where I aimed. I saw him flinch.
A smirk curved on my lips. I didn't miss.
The orange-haired one rushed to him. "Are you alright?" he asked, worried.
The silver-eyed man stood still, calmly pulling the dagger from his flesh. Then he grinned.
"She is my mate," he announced.
Rage flared in me. Why hadn't that dagger pierced deeper? I wanted to hurt him.
Voices filled the air with disapproval, shock. They knew who I was. And now they knew what I meant to him.
He stepped closer. My heart raced beyond control.
He raised his hand, brushed my cheek despite the dirt. A shiver ran through me. It felt… good.
He didn't wait. He broke the chains and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing.
Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck. He carried me through the pack grounds to his home—a place far too clean and well-furnished. We entered a large bedroom, then his bathroom.
He set me down gently.
His gaze lingered. I could feel the spark, the invisible pull between us.
His hand moved toward my clothing—
"I'll do it myself," I said quickly, pushing his hand away.
"I'll wash up alone too," I added, noticing he hadn't yet turned away.
He paused.
"I'll be in the room," he finally said. "You can put on any of the shirts in there."
He stepped out.
I undressed, peeling off the ragged shirt and pants. I stepped into the tub, the water already drawn and faintly scented like him.
"Agh!" I cried out. I had scrubbed an injury on my leg too hard.
Footsteps approached.
"Don't come in," I said quickly, my voice low.
He didn't.
I finished washing, slowly, thoroughly. I picked out a clean white shirt of his and slipped it on. I found pants too, but they were far too large. I held the waist and stepped out of the bathroom.
His silver eyes brightened at the sight of me. He laughed.
"The pants are way too big for you," he said between chuckles.
I looked down at myself, then back at him.
"I didn't exactly come with a change of clothes," I said. "Or was I supposed to be naked?"
He walked over, placed his large hands on my shoulders, and pulled me into a hug.
"No," he whispered. "You're beautiful."
A rush of warmth spread through me.
"Thank you," I murmured.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have locked you up. If I'd only checked that day… I'm sorry for not finding you sooner."
He hugged me tighter.
"I can't breathe," I muttered.
"Sorry," he chuckled, pulling away.
"You can take off the pants. The shirt alone is fine," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips.
I rolled my eyes. "I'm hungry."
I turned toward the door, limping slightly.
Before I could reach it, he scooped me up again.
"I can walk," I protested.
"Not with that leg," he replied, clicking his tongue.
He carried me into the kitchen, where a plate of food sat on the counter. He set me beside a chair and placed the food in the warmer.
It took him nearly thirty minutes, but eventually, the warm plate was in front of me.
I didn't want to kill him anymore. Not really. Maybe I'd just wait until everyone wasn't looking… and run.
I devoured the food—it was the first proper meal I'd had since being locked in that dungeon.
"Slow down," he said gently.
I eased my pace.
At some point, he slipped out of the room.
I gulped down the water he left. I was full—satisfied in a way I hadn't felt in days.
Then I heard his voice from another room.
"Get her clothes—from your mate."
Curious, I got up and followed the sound. Still clutching the oversized pants, I walked to the hall.
Laughter echoed.
"Kai?" I heard him say sharply. The tone was dominant—Alpha-level.
"Don't mock your Luna."
"I'm sorry, Alpha," came the sheepish reply.
"To her," he corrected firmly.
The man called Kai turned to me and bowed.
"I'm sorry, Luna."
I said nothing nodding my head alone. I just stood there as they continued their conversation.
For a while mind went on about how I can just live here. And forget about any other thing.
Just as I was lost in my own thoughts, I felt his warm embrace from behind.
"I am Thorn Varek, the Alpha of this pack. The man you saw earlier is my Beta, Alex," he said, resting his face on my shoulder.
"I am… Kaela," I replied softly.
We had not introduced ourselves earlier
"You are my mate, and my Luna" he mutters as he pecks my neck.