The Alpha’s New Houseplant.

Calla had never hated a doorknob so much in her life. This one was brass, probably antique, and smug. Yes, it felt smug, like it knew she was too scared to twist it, or too afraid to step outside the room Dominic Black had locked her in the night before.

Well, okay. He didn’t lock it, not technically. But he may as well have, considering the terrifying wolves guarding the hallway and the whispering maids who flinched when Calla so much had asked for tea.

"I'm not a ghost," she muttered, pacing the room. "Or a criminal, or a possessed flamingo. You can talk to me!"

No one did.

So here she was, a newly married woman against her will, by the way, pacing a ridiculously large bedroom in a mansion that smelled like expensive wood polish.

The room itself looked like something out of a vampire movie. Dark velvet curtains, a four-poster bed big enough to host a sleepover for ten. A fireplace that occasionally made creepy crackling sounds, as if it was laughing at her.

And no Theo.

Just Dominic Black, the man who signed her into marriage like she was a business deal.

She flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh and stared at the ceiling. "This is fine. I'm fine. Just a girl who thought she was marrying her nice, sweet mate and instead got his brooding, growly older brother who probably bathes in anger."

As if summoned by her sarcasm, the door creaked open.

There stood Dominic, looking like a thundercloud in human form. Dressed in black from head to toe, arms crossed with tight jaws. She half-expected lightning to strike behind him. But it didn't.

"Dinner," he said simply.

Calla sat up, blinking. "Oh. We're speaking now? I thought you only communicated through glares and dramatic exits."

He blinked once. Slowly.

"Don't make me carry you."

"Tempting," she muttered, standing. "But I bruise easily."

He turned and walked away without another word. Typically, she followed, deciding to pretend the hallway wasn’t crawling with wolves who looked like they wanted to eat her for dessert.

As they walked, Calla noted that the Black River estate was... cold. Not temperature-wise, but vibe-wise. Stone walls, sharp corners with serious faces. It was like someone took a castle and removed all the joy.

She tried smiling at a passing omega, but the girl nearly dropped her tray and run away.

"Charming," Calla said to herself.

Dominic didn’t respond. Of course.

They entered the dining hall, which was more of a throne room with a really long table. The kind that screamed sit here and talk about war or taxes. Wolves filled the seats, all of them pausing mid-bite to stare at her.

Calla smiled awkwardly. "Hi. Yes I'm the surprise bride. I come with sarcasm and trauma."

But no one answered her.

Dominic gestured to the seat beside him. "Sit."

She did, mostly because the alternative was running screaming out the window.

Dinner was roasted something and steamed disappointment. Calla poked at her food, aware of the constant sideways glances.

She wasn’t sure what annoyed her morez either the staring or the whispering.

Probably the staring.

Or maybe Dominic, who chewed like her presence didn’t matter.

"So," she said brightly, cutting her meat with more enthusiasm than necessary, "anyone want to tell me why everyone here looks like they’re attending a funeral?"

The air went still.

Dominic set his fork down. Slowly. Like very slowly.

"Calla," he said in a voice as sharp as the steak knife, "I warned you."

She tilted her head. "Warned me about what? Speaking? Having thoughts? Should I mime my way through dinner next time?"

A few wolves choked on their food. One even laughed before turning it into a cough when Dominic's eyes flicked to him.

"Enough," he growled.

Calla raised her hands. "Hey, no problem. I'm just trying to lighten the mood. You know, maybe make it feel like I'm not a prisoner in a horror movie."

Dominic's eyes narrowed. "You're not a prisoner."

She leaned forward, elbows on the table, ignoring every etiquette rule her mother ever taught her. "Then why do I need a bodyguard to get tea?"

He stood so fast his chair screeched backward.

The whole room held its breath.

Dominic's voice was low but felt dangerous. "If you ever speak to me like that in front of my pack again, you’ll learn exactly why they fear me."

Calla swallowed hard. Not from fear. Okay, maybe a little fear. But mostly... defiance.

She stood too.

"Cool. Can't wait. Maybe put it on the honeymoon itinerary."

And with that, she turned and marched out.

Back in her room, she slammed the door and let out a scream into one of the hundred pillows on the bed.

What was her life?

Two days ago she was picking flower arrangements and giggling with Harper. Yesterday she was married to a man who looked like he moonlighted as a hitman.

She needed to escape. Or at least figure out what the hell happened to Theo.

That night, she opened the window and peered out. Two floors up. Not impossible. But also not smart without shoes.

Still, the thought lingered.

Instead, she grabbed a hairbrush and pretended it was a microphone.

"Welcome to 'Married to a Maniac: The Calla Chronicles'," she announced to the empty room. "Episode one: How to Survive Your Wedding Being Hijacked By Your Fiancé's Older, Scarier Brother."

She did a little dance. Mostly out of spite.

Then she collapsed onto the bed again, staring at the ceiling.

"I'm going to find out what really happened, Theo," she whispered. "Because something smells fishy. And it’s not the roast beast from dinner."

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

She froze. "Yes?"

A maid peeked in. She was a tiny girl, and obviously shaking, and very much terrified.

"Ma’am, there’s a message for you. From... Miss Harper."

Calla shot up. "Harper? My Harper? Where is she? What does it say?"

The maid handed her a small folded piece of paper and ran off like Calla had just grown fangs.

Calla opened it with trembling hands.

"He didn’t leave you. Something happened, be careful. They're watching."

Her heart pounded in her chest. Theo didn’t leave?

So then... Why did Dominic say he did?

Why lie?

The smug doorknob looked even more smug now. Like it knew this was just the beginning.

Calla narrowed her eyes at it. "I’m onto all of you. Starting with that brooding Alpha jerk."

She placed the note under her pillow, flopped onto her stomach, and let out a dramatic groan.

Married life?

Yeah, ten out of ten. Would not recommend it.