Claiming My Mute Enemy

"Sign the mate bond documents, Aya," Pack Leader Miles Connor said, throwing the heavy parchment onto the wooden table. "Your sister Dani refused to bind herself to the disfigured Alpha of House Salvatore, so as the lowest-ranking omega in our pack, you will fulfill her duty."

I stared at the black ink on the rough paper, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I was a slim, five-foot-five, pale-skinned omega wolf with no voice to fight back, sold off to a terrifying predator so my family could secure the Salvatore Crimson Dominion’s backing. They stripped me of my place in the Connor Moonfang Lodge, shoving me into an unmarked carriage without a binding ceremony or a single pack member to see me off.

The heavy iron doors of the Salvatore Crimson Manor groaned open, swallowing me into the dark, silent stronghold of the most ruthless bloodline in the territory.

"Stand up," a deep, dangerous voice commanded from the shadows of the main hall.

I looked up, my breath catching in my throat as Kyle Salvatore stepped into the dim light. He stood five-foot-eight, broad-shouldered and dangerously muscular, his dark skin glowing under the chandelier. A jagged scar slashed across his handsome face from his forehead down to his chin, giving his fierce features a brutal edge. His dark eyes locked onto mine, sharp and predatory, while his thick fingers reached up to his neck. He wore a perfectly knotted tie, but as his amber wolf eyes flashed at me, he slowly loosened the silk with one finger. One. Inch.

"You aren't Dani Connor," Kyle growled, his wolf's thick scent of pine and heavy iron filling the room.

My hands trembled as I instinctively lifted them, signing quickly in the silent language of our pack to explain who I was.

"What the hell are you doing with your hands?" Kyle snapped, his brow furrowing in instant irritation.

Realizing the powerful Alpha had no idea how to read sign language, I pulled a small notepad and charcoal pen from my tunic, hastily scribbling a message before holding it out to him.

Kyle snatched the paper, his dark eyes sweeping over the words before turning entirely to frost. He let out a low, venomous sneer that made my wolf cower inside me.

"What is Miles Connor trying to pull?" Kyle growled, his deep voice vibrating through the stone floor. "He knows I demanded the Beta daughter, yet he sends me a useless, mute omega child instead?"

The bitter words sliced through me, making my lungs seize as I dropped my eyes to the cold floorboards.

In a flash of blinding speed, Kyle closed the distance between us. His rough, warm fingers gripped my chin, forcing my face up so I had to meet his terrifying, golden-flecked gaze.

"Does the Connor Moonfang Pack truly believe House Salvatore is so easy to mock?" he asked, his voice dripping with ice.

I clenched my small hands into tight fists inside my oversized sleeves, my heart racing wildly. He is furious. He is going to throw me out into the cold night, and if he rejects me, Dr. Serena Kogan won't get the pack funds for her life-saving medicines...

I tried to force a sound from my throat, but only a dry gasp escaped.

"Come here," Kyle ordered suddenly, dropping his hand from my jaw and stepping toward the massive leather couch near the roaring fireplace.

My eyes widened in shock. Is he... is he letting me stay?

A wave of relief washed over me, but it was instantly crushed by a surge of panic as I realized what a mate duty meant. The air between us grew thick and hot, charged with the sudden pull of the forced bond. My palms slicked with sweat, and my legs felt like lead.

"I am thoroughly disgusted by your father's pathetic little bait-and-switch," Kyle said impassively, his dark eyes scanning my trembling frame. "But since you are legally bound to my bloodline now, you will fulfill your physical duties to your Alpha."

My lip trembled as I walked over to the grand bed in his private quarters, lying flat against the heavy silk sheets and turning my burning face away from him.

A harsh, mocking laugh cut through the quiet room.

"I told you to wait on me while I wash off the dust of the territory, you foolish girl," Kyle sneered, enjoying the deep flush that coated my skin. "Or were you expecting something else?"

Embarrassment scorched through my veins. I sat up quickly, my dark eyes flashing with sudden, helpless anger as I glared at him. Is my misery just a game to him?

Kyle’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, his voice dropping an octave. "What are you waiting for? Unbutton my shirt."

I swallowed down my pride, sliding off the bed and stepping close to his towering frame. My fingers shook violently as I reached for his collar, accidentally scraping my nail against the hard, warm skin of his collarbone.

Kyle grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip, pulling my body flush against his chest. "Did you do that on purpose?"

My breath hitched at the sudden, searing contact. His heat was suffocating, his massive chest rising and falling against mine as his scent flooded my senses. I shook my head frantically, my wide eyes pleading with him to understand it was an accident.

Kyle stared down into my clear, desperate eyes, and for a fraction of a second, something dark and painful flashed across his scarred face. His grip tightened just enough to let me feel the raw strength of his Alpha wolf.

"I had no intention of marking a weakling tonight," Kyle growled against my ear, his deep voice sending a hot shiver straight to my core. "But since your body is already begging for its Alpha, I'll show you what happens when you cross into Salvatore territory."

The next morning, I woke up with every bone in my body aching, my skin marked by the possessive grip of a ruthless wolf. The bed beside me was cold and empty, leaving behind only the rich, lingering scent of pine and smoke.

I dragged my exhausted body out of the sheets and into the adjoining washroom, letting the hot water sting my skin before pulling on a simple tunic and heading downstairs to find my place in this hostile house.

Sitting on the red velvet couch in the main hall was a sharply dressed, middle-aged female wolf. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and her cold eyes locked onto me the second my feet hit the bottom step.

I recognized her instantly from the briefing files my father had shoved at me. She was Grace Harper, Kyle’s maternal aunt. She had raised Kyle after his parents were slaughtered, caring for him until the Elders of House Salvatore brought them back into the Salvatore Crimson Manor. Kyle had built the Salvatore Crimson Dominion into an unstoppable force, and he treated Grace with total devotion.

"Miles Connor thinks he's clever, doesn't he?" Grace sneered, running a disgusted gaze over my thin frame. "We demanded a proper Beta bride to strengthen our bloodline, and he dumps a mute, worthless omega on our doorstep! Does he think House Salvatore is a dumping ground for defect wolves?"

I dropped my head, keeping my eyes fixed on the floorboards.

"I don't know why Kyle didn't throw you to the rogue wolves last night," Grace continued, her voice sharp as glass. "But don't get comfortable. You are nothing here. You will never be a true Young Madam of the Salvatore Crimson Dominion. Go to the kitchen and prepare the afternoon feast. If you're going to stay in this lodge, you will work like the servant you are."

The manor was full of lower-ranking pack servants, but I knew arguing was impossible. I was an omega with no voice, no power, and no pack backing me. If I fought her, she would cut off the medical funds promised to Dr. Serena Kogan.

Without a word, I bowed my head slightly and walked toward the kitchen hearth. It's just a meal, I told myself, trying to soothe my quiet wolf. I can survive this.

My silence only angered her more. "Look at you," Grace spat after me. "Completely pathetic. Not a single drop of noble wolf blood in your veins!"

I kept walking, ignoring the insult. I had lived with my grandmother in the outer woods for years, learning how to prepare meals and manage a household without help. Within an hour, I had roasted fresh stag meat, prepared dark winter soups, and set four heavy platters on the long wooden dining table.

The kitchen servants watched me silently, offering no help, their eyes filled with quiet disdain. In a wolf pack, power was everything, and an omega serving food was right where she belonged.

The heavy front doors swung open, and Kyle stepped inside, removing his thick leather coat. Grace instantly put on a warm, affectionate smile, walking over to welcome him.

"Kyle, dear, come sit for the feast," Grace said smoothly. "The girl insisted on cooking everything herself. I suppose she wanted to prove she has at least one useful skill."

Kyle glanced toward the table, his dark eyes landing on me as I wiped down the wooden counter with an apron tied around my waist. His brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, taking his seat at the head of the long table.

I stood quietly in the corner, taking a small wooden bowl of broth for myself. The servants bustled around Kyle, pouring his wine and offering him the best cuts of meat, completely ignoring my presence as if I were a ghost floating through the manor. The cold isolation pressed heavy against my chest, making it hard to swallow.

Unable to handle the suffocation of the room, I took two quiet bites, bowed respectfully toward the head of the table, and turned to walk back up the grand staircase.

"Look at her manners," Grace scoffed the moment my feet cleared the landing. "She acts as if she's above us all just because she can't speak! Kyle, the Connors have humiliated our entire bloodline by giving us this mute creature. How can we ask for pack alliances when your wife is an omega who uses paper to talk?"

I paused on the stairs, my heart clenching as her loud voice echoed through the high stone ceilings.

"Miles Connor expects us to send trade supplies to the Connor Moonfang Dominion," Grace sneered, leaning closer to her nephew. "I say we cut them off completely! And once Julian returns from his medical training with the northern packs, we must strip her of her title. He can't have a mute sister-in-law. People will mock House Salvatore behind our backs! Let me find you a real female from a strong Alpha lineage."

I held my breath, waiting for the heavy blow of Kyle's agreement.

"I will handle my own household matters, Aunt Grace," Kyle replied, his deep voice carrying a tone of absolute authority that instantly shut the conversation down. "Do not concern yourself with my mate."

Grace’s face flushed with quiet anger, but she didn't dare push her powerful nephew any further.

Below, Mrs. Duncan, one of the oldest household servants, stepped up to clear a plate, whispering softly to Grace once Kyle had left the hall. "Do not upset yourself, Lady Grace. Young Master Kyle is only being cautious. He has always been distant since the tragedy."

Grace let out a bitter sigh, watching the doorway where Kyle had disappeared. "How can I not worry? Ever since he was captured by those rogue human traffickers as a pup, his heart has turned to cold stone. He never forgot what happened to him in those dark woods. I know he still holds a grudge against me for letting my guard down that day."

Mrs. Duncan lowered her head, unable to offer any more comfort.

Upstairs in the dim hallway, I leaned my back against the cold stone wall, clutching my notepad tightly against my chest. Kyle was a terrifying monster with a scarred face and a cruel grip, but as I recalled the pain buried deep within his golden eyes, my wolf stirred with an unfamiliar ache.

A soft knock echoed from the end of the corridor, and a servant hurried past me, carrying a sealed leather envelope stamped with the crest of the Connor Pack Elders.

"An urgent letter for Alpha Kyle," the servant murmured, handing it over as Kyle stepped out of his study.

Kyle broke the red wax seal with his thumb, his dark eyes scanning the parchment lines quickly. As his gaze hit the bottom of the page, the air in the hallway instantly plummeted to freezing temperatures. The raw, suffocating aura of a killer Alpha erupted from his body, forcing the servant to drop to his knees in terror.

Kyle’s hand crushed the heavy parchment into a ball, his scarred face twisting into an expression of lethal rage as his eyes snapped directly toward me.

"Your father just signed an agreement with the Silvermoon Rogues," Kyle growled, his voice thick with the urge to kill. "And he used your life as the collateral."