Content Warning:]
This chapter contains scenes of emotional and physical abuse, coercion, non-consensual acts, and psychological trauma. Reader discretion is advised.
Ravencrest Pack – Alpha's Castle
Yusa stared out of the tinted window, her fingers clutching the hem of the oversized hoodie she had changed into during the ride. Throughout the flight in Kael's private jet, she had kept her eyes closed, pretending to be asleep—not because she was tired, but because she was afraid. She had no intention of talking to him. No energy to start a conversation. No words that could make any of this easier.
Now, seated opposite him in the back of a long limo, she felt like the world had closed in. The vehicle was spacious, sure, but it still felt like a coffin. Her chest tightened with every breath. She avoided eye contact, choosing instead to watch the passing scenery, even though none of it really registered.
Every few seconds, her gaze flicked to him without meaning to. Kael had a long streak of grey in his neatly styled black hair, a contrast that should have made him look older but didn't. His face was sharp, jaw square and defined, beard perfectly trimmed. His eyes were cold and blue, almost unreal, and every time he blinked, his lashes fluttered just a little too long. He looked too put together. Too powerful. He carried the kind of beauty that demanded attention.
But Yusa wasn't impressed. She knew better than to let herself fall into that trap. The man seated across from her was her husband now, and that reality made her stomach turn.
"Are you a mute?" he asked suddenly, his voice cutting sharply through the silence just as the car entered the massive gates of the castle.
Startled, she turned to him quickly. "No… I'm sorry, Your Majesty."
He nodded once, not saying anything else, but his gaze lingered on her face. She bit her bottom lip nervously, not realizing the effect it had on him.
"You should really stop doing that," he muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for her to hear.
He had dealt with women like her before—young, hesitant, full of quiet resistance. The ones who were unsure at first but eventually gave in. The younger they were, the easier it was to break them in. It was like preparing them—training them—to belong only to him. It never took long. In less than two months, they were his in every way. And Yusa, whether she realized it or not, was the perfect vessel.
The limo pulled to a stop in the underground garage, but neither of them moved. Not until the driver came around and opened the door.
Kael stepped out first and looked back at her. "Welcome to your new home."
Home. That word never meant much to her. She had lived in houses before, under roofs that shielded her from the rain and gave her a bed to sleep on, but nothing had ever felt like home. Nothing had ever felt safe.
Yusa nodded faintly and stepped out after him. A row of maids was already standing in place, their posture rigid, their expressions blank. The sun had begun to set, casting a golden glow across the courtyard. That light touched her face gently, and Kael noticed. Something about the way she looked in that moment made his wolf restless.
Yusa didn't care for the beauty of the place. The marble staircase lined with gold, the floor-to-ceiling windows that let in too much light, the heavy drapes, or the chandelier above them—none of it mattered. The grandeur couldn't distract her from what she was walking into.
She followed the maids up the stairs and through the halls. Not a word was exchanged. They led her to a room that looked nothing like the one she had back home. It was large and immaculately arranged. Vases filled with freshly cut flowers lined every surface like someone had gone out of their way to make her feel welcome. She had no idea how Kael had known she liked flowers—or maybe someone told him—but in that moment, it didn't matter.
She walked to the bed and sat down slowly, her body heavy, her heart heavier. The silence settled thick in her chest as she stared at the ceiling and let the tears fall freely until sleep claimed her.
***
Night came faster than expected.
A gentle tap against her leg woke her from a restless sleep.
"The Alpha wishes to see you," a maid said in a quiet voice.
Yusa sat up, disoriented, rubbing her eyes. The bed was so soft, she had almost forgotten where she was.
"Where is he?" she asked, her voice scratchy.
"In his bedroom," another maid added, standing beside the first.
Yusa nodded and began to rise, but before she could walk off, one of the maids gently placed a hand on her arm.
"You'll need to get ready first," she said.
"Get ready?" Yusa asked in confusion, her stomach sinking as realization dawned.
Her wedding night.
The thought hit her like a brick to the chest. Maybe if she begged for more time, he'd give it. Maybe if she cried hard enough, he'd feel something. But deep down, she knew none of that would work. This was going to happen. Maybe not tonight, but soon—and waiting wouldn't save her.
Without protest, she allowed them to undress her and run a warm bath. Her skin was scrubbed gently, her body lathered in rich oils and sweet-smelling lotions. She was dressed in a short, pale pink satin nightdress that clung to her like silk. A robe was thrown over her shoulders, but it didn't cover much.
Before she left, one of the maids placed something into her palm and closed her hand over it.
"Aspirin," she whispered. "You'll need it by morning."
Yusa's throat tightened as she blinked back tears. "Thank you," she murmured.
Even though they were trained to remain detached, it was clear that they saw something different in her. She wasn't like the others. She looked too fragile. Too young. Too breakable.
The maids walked her to the room at the end of the hall, the top floor of the castle.
"Lock the door behind you when you enter," one of them said.
Yusa nodded slowly. Her fingers clutched the aspirin like it could somehow shield her from what was waiting on the other side of that door. She didn't know why she was obeying. Why she wasn't screaming. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was shock. Maybe it was the quiet acceptance of someone who knew there was no way out.
She stepped in and did as she was told, turning the lock behind her. The room was dark and silent. Kael wasn't inside, but the sound of running water told her he was in the shower.
She turned on the light—and froze.
There were chains on the wall. Thick, polished, bolted in like part of the architecture. Leather cuffs, collars, and ropes hung in organized rows. One drawer was slightly open, and even from a distance, she could see a neat collection of belts, canes, and objects she couldn't even begin to name.
She didn't understand what they were all for. But part of her already knew.
She sat on the edge of the bed, her legs trembling beneath her. She waited. She didn't cry. She just waited.
Kael stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, naked and unapologetic. His eyes landed on her first. He took in the sight—how delicate she looked, how quiet. The nightdress was nearly transparent, the curve of her chest faintly visible beneath the thin fabric. She looked like a gift. Like a prize.
To him, she was worth far more than the vase Darius had stolen. This was the real exchange. And he had won.
Yusa finally looked at him, then dropped her gaze immediately. She didn't know where to look.
"Don't worry," he said casually as he walked closer. "You'll get used to this soon."
She felt her face burn with discomfort, but before she could shift away, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. His fingers wrapped around hers and guided her hand toward his body. Her stomach dropped as her fingers brushed against his erection, guided by his own hand.
"Feel it," he said calmly. "This is the only thing that matters now. This is what you respond to. Understand?"
Her voice cracked. "Y…yes."
He kissed her then. It wasn't violent, but it wasn't soft either. It was claiming. His lips pressed into hers like she was his territory. She didn't kiss him back. She let him take what he wanted.
When he pulled away, she finally found the strength to speak.
"Please… can we do this tomorrow?"
His face didn't change. But his hand did.
The slap landed so fast and so hard that her head snapped to the side. Her cheek burned instantly.
"Did your father wait until tomorrow to steal from me?" he said through clenched teeth.
She clutched her face, silent tears spilling again.
He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head toward him, his breath hot and full of rage.
"I decide when. I decide how. You're mine now. Say it."
"I—I'm yours," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
"Good," he said. "Now, strip. And get on the bed."
Her hands trembled as she obeyed. She didn't have the energy to argue. Resistance wouldn't save her.
"On all fours," he added. "Let me see what I paid for."
She crawled onto the bed, biting her lip until it bled. She didn't want to see what he grabbed from the drawer. She didn't want to hear it.
The first strike of the belt sent a sharp jolt through her body. She gripped the sheets, biting back a cry. The second one followed. Then the third. The pain didn't stop. It wasn't just physical—it burrowed deep into her, into the part of her that used to dream.
Her body flinched at every lash. Every movement he made filled her with dread. She couldn't cry anymore. She could barely think.
As Kael finally climbed onto the bed and positioned her the way he wanted, her mind went completely still.
She prayed for it to be over. She prayed to disappear. She prayed for death.
But it didn't come.
Not that night.