12

ALINA

I felt like a trophy on Alexander’s arm. A glittering , but hollow ornament that was constantly on display. And there’s nothing flattering about being admired like a possession.

The dress I wore clung to me like it knew every inch of my body. His single nod when I came out told me it was approved.

Of course he liked it. Everything he chose fit too perfectly, like it was molded onto my skin. And it probably was. A few days after we arrived, a woman with an expression carved from stone had marched in and taken my measurements in silence. She didn’t acknowledge me once. She returned only once after that, long enough for her glare to strip any illusion I had that she might be a possible friend.

She looked close to my age, maybe a bit older, but there was no warmth in her gaze. Only silent judgment and tightly coiled disdain. I’d stupidly assumed we could talk. That maybe there was some kind of shared solidarity. But two visits and two contemptuous looks later, I let that naive hope die.

It was for the best. Every cold stare and turned shoulder was a reminder these people weren’t my friends. They didn’t want me here. They didn’t even pretend to.

If they treated one of their own this way, then I didn’t want to imagine how they’d treat me if they discovered the truth.

Alexander would be the first to raise a hand, no, his claws. He wouldn’t hesitate to bring an end to me. The moment he finds out what I really am, I doubt I’ll even get to see the horror in their faces. I’ll be dead before that.

Mate or not.

A shiver skated down my spine like ice trailing a blade. The truth always finds a way to crack through your lies. No matter how well you try to bury it. And I needed a plan for when it did.

But what options did I have? There was no escape. Every road curved back to him. If he found out, he’d kill me. If I ran, he’d still find me, and make me wish I hadn’t. Then he would kill me. There were no good endings. No safe exits. Only different shades of suffering.

“What’s on your mind?”

His voice cut through my thoughts like a whip, and I jolted, heart leaping to my throat.

I swallowed, catching myself before I could visibly cower, straightening instinctively. I remembered how he’d spat instructions at me the first time he dragged me into one of his wretched meetings.

“If you’re going to be on my arm, don’t act like some weak little omega,” he’d sneered. “Keep your head up. You bow to no one except me. Understood?”

I’d nodded, but the fear had tightened around my throat. “Yes, Your Highness,” I’d whispered quickly, scared the delay would anger him.

There’d been a flicker in his eyes then, something unreadable, dark, almost curious. Then he’d smirked, cruel and amused, his features wickedly beautiful.

“You’ll make a good little pet if you listen,” he said, voice brushing over me like poison wrapped in silk. “Do exactly as I say, and maybe I won’t punish you.”

The words were dressed like reassurance, but the tone said otherwise. Like he was humoring a slow child, and even that required effort.

“Nothing,” I muttered now, dragging myself back from the memory.

He didn’t like lies. But he hated weakness more.

He could snap at any moment. I’d seen how easily he could lift a grown man with one hand. Violence came naturally to him.

“Why were you frowning then?” he asked, surprising me again.

Not just with the question, but with the fact that his voice lacked its usual venom. For once, he didn’t sound like he was two seconds from tearing someone apart. That could only mean he was in a good mood. Probably because of whoever we were about to meet. Normally, he looked like introductions physically pained him.

“N-nothing,” I replied again, the stammer slipping out before I could stop it.

His eyes flared gold. The monster stirred beneath his skin.

My stomach dropped. My body reacted instantly. Shoulders drawing in, heart pounding like it wanted to escape my chest. His gaze pinned me, heavy and scorching. I wanted to look away, but I didn’t dare. He took that as weakness. And I already knew what he did with weakness.

“Don’t lie to me.”

The world tilted.

My back slammed into the wall hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

Alexander stepped into the space between my legs, forcing them apart with one knee. His body pressed forward, towering. Trapping me.

“What did I tell you the first night you came here?” he asked, voice low and sharp like the crack of a whip.

Tears pricked at my eyes, blurring the sharp edges of the world. I didn’t let them fall. Not with him this close. Not when he could crush my windpipe without trying.

His hand wrapped around my throat, not choking, but firm. Firm enough that I started seeing double. Or maybe it was the tears. Or fear. Or both.

He studied me like he was trying to tear down my skin and find out my deepest darkest secrets. And then, suddenly, he let go. I dropped like a marionette whose strings had been cut, my knees buckling. I hadn’t even realized my feet had left the floor.

“You,” he snapped, looking past me. “What are you doing lurking like a hypocrite?”

I hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“S-sorry, Alpha,” came a small, trembling voice.

I couldn’t lift my head. Still too busy trying to remember how to breathe. But the voice belonged to a girl. Young. She looked nervous. From the corner of my eye, I saw the familiar uniform of the maids.

“What is it?” he asked, already sounding bored again.

“You have a guest, sir. I was told to inform you but I didn’t see you in—”

“Stop babbling. Who is it?”

“K-Keisha, sir.”

Alexander’s jaw tensed and his expression soured further. Then he looked at me like I was something he needed to scrape off his shoe.

“Escort her to the drawing room. Tell Kilian I’ll be there in a few minutes. I just need to get rid of a pest.”

He turned on his heel and stalked away without another glance.

The air felt lighter when he left. Like I’d been allowed to breathe again.

The maid let out a shaky breath beside me and approached carefully. Her hand landed gently on my shoulder, warm and reassuring.

I looked up, and for a moment I didn’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. Not her soft, sympathetic smile. Not her pretty face or the kind eyes that didn’t look through me like I was trash.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

And for the first time since I got here… someone actually sounded like they meant it.