Chapter Three

The forest gave way to the towering shadows of Bloodclaw pack territories. My body stiffened, and my blood ran cold. The sun was already setting. The air was different here; it was warmer, charged with energy, breathing order, and discipline, unlike what we had back home. 

I sighed deeply, unable to believe I now referred to the rogue base as home. You wouldn't blame me; I spent the greater part of my life there. 

As we made our way closer to the pack territory, I couldn't help but think that I was an intruder, carried in under the disguise of a curse named fate. 

For some reason, I knew this might be the end of me. 

I trailed behind him, my fated mate, like a prisoner heading to her cells. His back was square and straight, with purpose, like he hadn't just met his other half a few minutes ago. 

He hasn't spoken a word after he ordered me to come, not sparing me a glance. 

The two warriors walking behind me said nothing too, but I could feel their gaze on me and the tension in their movement. Each time they looked at me, their facial expressions turned to contempt. 

I recognized the look very well; it was the same look I had been used to for the past ten years. 

I didn't feel bothered about it; how could I when, at the last moment, even my father looked at me with disgust? 

Once we were out of the woods, the high wall of Bloodclaw Pack towered before us. It was carved with iron and stone; it looked ancient and luxurious. 

Two men stood guard at the gate, their eyes narrowed the moment they saw me walking toward them, behind the Alpha. 

One of them had golden hair, was wolfishly muscled in the right places, and was wearing a button-up shirt. With a scar across his nose, he frowned at me. 

"How dare you, a rogue, come this far to the pack gate? You must have a death wish," he spat out, heading towards me with disgust written all over him. 

"Rogue filth," the other murmured. 

In the blink of an eye, he was standing right in front of me. I made a dodge, but he was too fast. 

He grabbed my neck, lifting me off the ground, his eyes red with anger. 

He was choking the life out of me. I hit him a couple of times on his hand while my face turned pale, my eyes popping out of their sockets. 

Tears escaped my eyes as I thought this was truly the end for me, but in an instant, a strong force knocked him off, and I fell on my knee, coughing hard, clutching my neck, wide-eyed and in shock. 

I heard a loud thud on the floor, and I turned to see the golden-haired guy on the floor. I turned, and I was shocked to see the angry look on his face. 

"No one lays a finger on her; she is mine!" he growled. 

His once icy gray eyes had turned pitch dark; a shiver ran down my spine. I knew his wolf was in control now. 

But he quickly snapped out of it in a matter of minutes and glanced at me. 

"Get up," he ordered, without any emotions, cold as ever. And I quickly scurried off the floor immediately. 

The last thing I want is to anger this wolf; I wouldn't survive it, at least not in this state. 

He turned, walking towards the gate. The guard on the floor, whimpering in pain, got off the floor, and both, shaking in fear, bowed their heads in submission. 

We passed through the gates into the world I had long forsaken and had no place in. 

I swallowed hard as a lump formed in my throat. The inside of the pack was breathtaking, with grand structures built from dark stones and timbers towering around a massive courtyard. 

Everything was neat and orderly, and unlike the rogue base, there were houses for each family. 

The warriors were sparring at what seemed to be the training ground, close to an auditorium. We walked past some elders sharing tea under a canopy. 

While the woman was busy drying some herbs. They were all chatting amongst themselves until they saw me. 

They stopped abruptly, heads turned, and mouths parted in silent gasps. I could hear their whispers even when I didn't want to.

"Is that...?" I heard one whisper. 

"No, it can't be...." The others shunned her immediately; it felt like the mere mention of my name would bring bad luck to them.

"Eliana Paw?" I heard another call, and they all gasped, turning and staring at me in shock. I guess they are the remnants of Shadow Pack the day Damon conquered it, killing my father. 

"She's still alive?" 

My body stifled, my head on the ground, I continued following my executioner. They sneered and laughed at me, while some stared at me with venomous eyes.

"She is the one that killed her sister." Then came the very word I have been running away from all this while. I felt my whole world crash again, but I knew better than to make a sound.

"You mean the Alpha's daughter that ran away after drowning her sister?"

"Exactly!" 

"She is nothing but rogue filth now. Why is she here? I hope she isn't back." 

Every word was a dagger to my heart, the stares another reminder of who I was and who I would always be to them: a killer.

I kept walking behind him like every step didn't burn. I walked with aloofness like I wasn't affected by their words. I wasn't going to run, not this time.

I could hear my wolf snarl inside, growling and fighting to take control and gut their heart out, but I hushed her.

It was the fate thrown at me by the moon goddess, a punishment befitting the crime. How could I dare complain? I deserved everything I got.

The alpha led me to the stone steps of the main pack house, a place I had dreamed countless times would be my home, alongside my fated mate. But now it felt like a gibbet. 

He paused abruptly at the top of the stairs and turned to look at me for the first time. 

Our eyes met, and cold shivers ran down my spine. His eyes were still unreadable, like frozen silver. 

"You will stay at the west wing." I had no say in the matter, so I didn't bother to say a thing. 

"She is to be alone; no one is allowed to speak to her without my permission," he ordered the guards who had been walking with us the entire time. 

"Yes, Alpha," they both bowed their heads in submission. 

He took one final disdainful look at me and whispered. 

"Don't get any ideas while you are here, and don't get your hopes high either; you are merely here because fate allows it. Don't mistake that for acceptance." Tears welled up in my eyes, but I held it in; I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction he craved. 

He waited around to get a response and walked away, leaving me standing at the stairs with two wolves who wished me dead. 

The heavy mahogany door of the packhouse creaked open, and the two guards gestured for me to enter, and I willingly followed them—no welcome, no words, just silence. 

The door shut behind me with a final thud the moment I entered. Once inside, it felt warm, scented faintly of oak and something darker, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. 

Every single thing in here glowed, and, grand, the floor looked shiny. I looked up to see picture frames of the pack's triumphs hanging on the wall, like some trophy. 

The footsteps of the guard leading me to my prison echoed in front of me, with a permanent frown etched between his brows like a tattoo. 

I watched as the hallway swallowed his lean body and slowly walked behind him. His pace was too fast, and he didn't bother to check if I was catching up with him. 

The deeper we ventured into the pack house, the more elaborate it became; the walls of the hallway were decorated with pictures of the past Alpha. Each stared at me like judgment. I paused the moment I saw Dad's portrait but quickly walked away. 

The guard took another turn, and a chilly air hit me. The farther we walked, the more silent it became, the voices of the pack members fading behind us. 

When we reached a corridor lined with cracked sconces and faded wallpaper, he stopped in front of the door. 

"Here, this is where you will be staying," he announced briskly. 

I swallowed hard; he pulled the door, and it creaked open; a cold shiver ran down my spine. 

He stepped aside and gestured for me to enter. I walked through the door, and the state of the room made my heart race. 

"It hasn't been used for years now; don't expect any comfort," he said. I sighed. 

The room was dark and dusty, with a spring bed with one sagging leg in the corner. With no linen, A cracked mirror hanging above a dresser, 

This wasn't a room; it was a tomb. Without saying a word, I understood perfectly what he wished for me. 

"Someone will bring you food later," he said with a tone of finality before he walked away. Shutting the door behind him. 

I stood at the center of the tomb, bewildered. 

"This is where the alpha of the strongest pack sent his fated mate."

"Not a guest room or servants' quarters, but a place fit only for ghosts. 

I could feel my wolf whimper, but I pushed it down; there was no comfort tonight. 

I sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the mess of a room, when memories of that day hit me. I groaned, plunging my hands into my ears to stop Karen's screams as she drowned. I was gasping for air, then I heard it, a creak. Not from the hallway but inside the room. 

I stopped and lifted my head; that was when I noticed the mirror had shifted. Just slightly, but enough to tell the difference. 

I moved closer to see a crack in the wall just behind the mirror. I reached out a hand, trembling and heart throbbing, and I pulled the mirror aside. 

To see a narrow opening in the wall, barely wide enough for a person. But in the darkness beyond, a door, hidden, locked, forgotten, but it was there, not like my imagination was playing tricks on me. 

I gasped, my heart racing, and I backed away slowly.

"What is this place?" I whispered to myself. What secrets does this cursed tomb hold? 

And why, out of all the rooms, did he send me here?