THE PACKAGE IS HERE

CHAPTER 4: THE PACKAGE IS HERE

ELENA:

I kept my face pressed against the cold glass of the window as the SUV sped away. I didn’t care if I looked pathetic; I just wanted to memorize every detail. The stone gate of our estate, the crooked oak tree where Kamala and I used to hide from our tutors, and the flickering streetlights of the Thorne territory. Everything I knew was shrinking in the rearview mirror. I was nineteen for exactly six hours, and my life was already a ghost story.

Adrian sat beside me like a statue carved out of ice. For the entire thirty-minute drive, he didn’t say a single word. He didn't check his phone, he didn't look at me, and he didn't blink. He just sat there with his jaw set so tight I thought his teeth might crack. He was the devil in a designer suit, and I was the "package" he’d just picked up.

As we crossed the border, the scenery started to change. I expected the Blackwood territory to look like a graveyard given how cold the Alpha was. But I was wrong. It was beautiful in a way that made my chest ache.

The driveway felt like it went on for miles, lined with massive, ancient trees that arched over the road like a green tunnel. Everything was lush—the grass was so green it looked fake, and the air smelled like pine and expensive mulch. The buildings were modern masterpieces of glass and dark stone, tucked into the hills like they’d grown there. It was clean, rich, and perfect.

But then I saw the shadows moving between the trees. Guards. Dozens of them. They weren't wearing the baggy fatigues our pack wore; these guys were in tactical gear, standing dead-still with assault rifles strapped to their chests. Every time we passed a lamp post, I saw another one, barely visible. This wasn't just a home; it was a high-tech fortress.

When our convoy finally pulled up to the main Pack House, my jaw nearly dropped. My dad was proud of his mansion, but this place made our house look like a shack. It was a sprawling, three-story fortress of black marble and floor-to-ceiling glass. It looked like it belonged to a billionaire, not a werewolf.

I was so busy staring at the architecture that I didn't realize we’d stopped moving.

"When you're done drooling, get the fuck out of the car, Elena," Adrian growled. His voice was like a saw blade cutting through the silence. "Except you plan on living in the backseat. Which, honestly, might be too good for you."

I stepped out before he could say more, my heels crunching on the gravel. I followed him through the massive front doors into a living room that looked like a museum. An older man was sitting in a leather armchair, a newspaper covering his face. He looked relaxed, but the power rolling off him was suffocating. This was the Big Boss—Alpha Silas Blackwood.

He folded the paper down as we approached. His hair was silver, but his eyes were the same icy blue as Adrian's.

Adrian gave a short, stiff bow. "The package is here."

My heart didn't just sink; it hit the floor and shattered. The package? Is that what I've been reduced to?

The old man stood up, leaning on a cane tipped with silver. He walked around me like he was inspecting a horse at an auction. "Did you mark her?"

"Of course," Adrian said firmly.

The old man stopped in front of me, his eyes cold and calculating. "I hope you know why you're here, girl."

I squared my shoulders, even though my knees were shaking under that red silk dress. "Actually, I don't. And I didn't bargain for any of this."

Silas let out a dry, raspy chuckle. "You're here because you're the glue holding your pathetic pack together. Marrying my son was the first step. Your ability to shut your mouth and follow the rules determines if your people stay alive or get wiped out. One wrong move from you, and I’ll have my men take over the Thorne territory before sunrise. Understand?"

I shuddered, the coldness of his voice hitting me harder than the night air. I didn't say a word. I couldn't.

"Anna!" the old man barked.

A middle-aged woman with a tight bun and a face like granite appeared from the shadows. "Yes, Alpha?"

"Take her upstairs. Show her to her room."

"Follow me," Anna said, her voice completely flat.

I had no choice. I followed her up a grand staircase that felt like it was leading to a gallows. We walked down a long, dimly lit hallway. The walls were decorated with paintings of past Alphas, all of them looking down at me with judgment. Anna stopped at a door at the very end. She opened it, gestured for me to enter, and the second I stepped inside, she slammed it shut and left.

I was alone. I didn't even look at the room. I just leaned my back against the door and slid down until I hit the floor. I pulled my knees to my chest, buried my face in my hands, and finally let it out. I sobbed—big, ugly, shaking cries that hurt my throat. Happy birthday to me. I was nineteen, married to a murderer, and a prisoner in a gold cage.

"Don't waste your tears yet, Elena," a voice rasped from the shadows. "What's coming for you is much worse than you can imagine."

I jumped, my heart nearly leaping out of my throat. I hadn't even turned on the lights. Suddenly, the switch flicked, and the room was flooded with a warm glow.

I gasped, scrambling to my feet. Standing by the window, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, was Adrian.

"How... how did you get here?" I stammered, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I'd left him downstairs talking to his father! There was no way he could have beaten me up here unless he’d run up the side of the building.

He didn't answer. But I suspected he probably took an elevator. I shuddered involuntarily as Adrian watched me with those terrifying eyes.

I took a deep breath, trying to find my spine. I wasn't going to let him see me break. Not again. I stepped closer to him, my voice trembling but sharp.

"Listen to me, Alpha Blackwood," I said, tilting my head back to look him in the eye. "I'm not afraid of you. You think you're so tough? I saw you kill Marcus in cold blood. I watched you put a bullet in the head of a boy who was begging for his life. I know exactly who you are. That’s the worst you can do, isn't it? Killing people like their lives are worth nothing. You can kill me. So go ahead. Do it. Because anything is better than being yours."

Adrian didn't move. He didn't even blink. He just let out a low, dark sound that might have been a laugh if there was any joy in it. He took one step toward me, and suddenly the room felt ten degrees colder.

"You're clearly inexperienced if you think death is the worst thing that can happen to a person. Break a single rule of mine and you'll get a glimpse of what's worse than death.”