The room was far too large, far too silent, and smelled far too much like him.
I stood in the center of the massive bedroom, my bare feet sinking into the thick, plush carpet. The walls were made of dark stone, adorned with silver weapons and tapestries that told stories of bloody victories. A giant hearth crackled with orange flames, casting dancing shadows across the velvet-draped bed that looked large enough to fit five people.
Two female servants had spent the last hour scrubbing my skin until it was raw, washing away the filth of the dungeon. They had dressed me in a thin, silk nightgown the color of midnight. It felt like a spiderweb against my skin—fragile and revealing.
"I am not a doll," I had hissed at them, but they had only bowed their heads in fear and hurried out, locking the heavy oak door behind them.
I walked to the balcony, the cold night air hitting my face. I could see the vast expanse of the northern forests, the trees swaying under the silver glow of the full moon. My heart ached. Somewhere out there, my pack was mourning. Somewhere out there, I was supposed to be free.
The click of the lock made me freeze.
The door swung open, and Alpha Fenris stepped inside. He had discarded his heavy armor and combat boots. Now, he wore only a pair of black trousers, his chest bare and glistening in the firelight. The sight of him stole the air from my lungs. His muscles were corded and powerful, mapped with scars that seemed to hum with a strange energy.
He didn't say a word. He just watched me, his golden eyes sweeping over my form in the silk gown. The air in the room grew heavy, saturated with his scent—that intoxicating mix of pine and dark chocolate that made my inner wolf want to howl in submission.
"The gown suits you," he finally rumbled, his voice a low vibration that seemed to settle in my very bones.
"I want to go home," I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
Fenris laughed, a dark, humorless sound. He walked toward me, each step slow and predatory. I backed away until my heels hit the balcony railing. I had nowhere left to run.
He stopped just inches away, his heat radiating off him like a furnace. He reached out, his large hand coming up to rest on the stone railing on either side of my waist, effectively pinning me against him.
"This is your home now, Elena," he whispered, leaning down until his lips were brushing against the shell of my ear. "The Silver-Moon pack is dead. I am the only thing you have left."
"I hate you," I breathed, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Do you?" He tilted his head, his nose grazing the sensitive skin of my neck. I gasped as a violent shiver of pleasure and pain raced through me. The mate bond was screaming, demanding that I lean into him, that I bared my neck for his mark. "Your words say hate, but your heart... your heart is beating like a trapped bird for me."
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. His expression was no longer just cold; it was hungry. "I could take what I want right now. I could mark you and claim you, and no one would stop me."
"Then do it," I challenged, my eyes stinging with tears of rage. "Mark me and prove you're the monster everyone says you are."
His grip on the railing tightened until the stone cracked under his fingers. For a second, I thought he would snap. But then, he let out a long, ragged breath and stepped back.
"No," he growled, his eyes flashing with a dangerous light. "I don't want a broken shell. I want you to come to me willingly. And believe me, little wolf... before the next full moon, you will be begging for my mark."
He turned on his heel and walked out, the door slamming shut behind him. I collapsed to my knees, my body trembling. He was right. The bond was a poison, and it was already spreading through my blood