Chapter 3

It was my eighteenth birthday, and yet I didn’t feel the joy that should come with it—specifically because this was the age where dreams came true. The age of finding your mate.

But that didn’t weigh on my mind one bit. It was Blaire’s words that kept ringing in my head. I had barely slept for what remained of the night.

Without a word or effort, I had made a new enemy—just by my presence alone.

As if things weren’t bad enough, now I had to deal with her. And she already had an advantage—she was his betrothed and had his loyalty. Unlike me, the plaything. I clenched my fists at the thought. I hated being powerless.

I was just trying my hardest to pass the night. Coincidentally, today was Blaire’s banquet. So I was kept busy all day doing chores. As if that wasn’t enough—I was still forced to work as a maid at the banquet. It was unbelievable.

I was already in line with the others when the woman in charge came over, barking orders.

“You,” she called my attention, and I turned to face her. “Lady Blaire has requested you fetch her a tray of lavender wine from the wine table—for her and her party. Get to it,” she said.

I hurried to carry out the task I was given.

I reached the table and saw a variety of wines, but I did my best not to make a mistake. I wouldn’t risk getting punished again. This task was already punishment in itself.

As I made my way through the crowd, carefully so the tray I was holding wouldn't spill, I heard the crowd stifle their laughter as I passed by. I sucked my teeth, already knowing why—I looked ridiculous. Unlike the other maids’ uniforms, mine was different and funny looking. It was a setup, designed to make me the laughing stock of the night. And it was working pretty well.

I finally reached Blaire and her party at their table, hiding any hostility I felt as much as possible.

“Lady Blaire. Your wine,” I said.

She looked me up and down before a small smile crept onto her face.

“This outfit suits you very well. You must wear it often,” she said, and the people around her burst into laughter.

But I endured it.

I set the tray of wine down, and just as I turned to leave, she called out to me.

“Wait.”

I turned to face her.

“This isn’t what I asked for,” she said, and I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“What?”

“Don’t act deaf. You heard me,” Blaire snapped, holding a glass in her hand with a look of disapproval.

“The woman in charge told me you requested lavender-flavored wine,” I replied.

“Well, I certainly didn’t,” Blaire said, setting the glass down.

“But that’s what she said,” I protested.

“So are you saying I’m telling a lie?” Blaire challenged, and the table went silent, everyone staring at me with hostility. I quickly looked away, defeated.

“No, Lady Blaire.”

“Good,” Blaire said triumphantly. “Now go get me cherry-grape flavor. And make it quick.”

I did as I was told, taking the tray off the table. Just as I turned to go, she stuck her leg out, and I tripped—falling with the tray. The wine crashed to the ground, soaking me.

“Great. First she can’t get me the right wine, now somehow you’ve forgotten how to walk,” Blaire said, and everyone laughed.

I hadn’t recovered when the woman in charge rushed to where we were and bowed sharply. “I’m sorry, Lady Blaire. I’ll make sure she doesn’t ruin the rest of the night.” Without another word, she grabbed me by my ear and started dragging me out of the hall.

I pried at her hand, but she didn’t stop until she flung me outside.

I landed hard but recovered shortly after.

It was painful, and at this point, I was barely holding back the tears threatening to spill from my eyes. But unexpectedly, I ran into him—Alpha Ragnar.

The moment we locked eyes, I felt it.

That odd but magnetic pull. It was a weird spark something deep inside me, triggering weird sensations all over my body which I didn't understand.

I looked at him for a sign, and I knew he felt it too. His nonchalant demeanor vanished almost instantly.

“Alpha,” I muttered from where I stood. After the humiliation I had just endured. I wouldn't bother going in his direction at all. But suddenly, I felt the need to touch him. To be with him.

Initially, I had planned to go to my room, lock myself in, and seek solace in silence—but now, it felt like true comfort could only be found in his arms.

My legs started moving on their own until I reached his side—and grabbed him.

I felt my heartbeat quicken, but it didn’t stop me. I ignored my common sense.

He didn’t react as I clung to him, but instead, I felt his heartbeat fall into rhythm with mine. Almost in sync.

It felt surreal, and I didn’t want to believe it, but my instincts, my body—everything—told me otherwise.

He’s my mate.

I started crying into his suit. I had never felt so happy. I wanted a better life, yes—but more than that, I had always wanted a mate.

“You’re my mate,” I heard him mutter—and that confirmed it.

I melted further into his embrace, feeling truly safe for the first time.

But then—he shifted me from him, holding me gently by the neck.

“You’re my mate?” he repeated, eyes narrowed, his voice laced with an edge of curiosity.

I furrowed my brows in confusion.

Without a word, he pinned me to the nearest wall, knocking the air out of my lungs.

I wasn’t sure what to make of it. Did he want a kiss? I thought inwardly.

He leaned in closer, and I parted my lips instinctively—but then, he didn’t kiss me.

Instead, he started lifting me—until my feet were off the ground.

That’s when I knew this was something very different.

“Bullshit!”

Ragnar’s voice thundered with fury.

“This is obviously a mistake,” he growled.

“How? Why?” he asked, staring deep at me—as if I held the answers to his questions.

My tears of joy had now turned into tears of sorrow. I didn’t understand why he was reacting this way. But I was unmistakably sure he was mine. So why was he treating me like this?

“You being my mate changes nothing. Do you hear me?”

I clawed at his hand, gasping for air, but he doesn't care he's choking me.

Instead, he leaned in closer, whispering darkly into my ear.

“Let me make you understand where you stand.”

His grip tightened as he continued.

“You are and will never be more than an object to me. Is that clear?”