CHAPTER 2: SOLD IN PLAIN SIGHT

Maren

Mating.

The word kept turning in my head.

Reva had only whispered it yesterday, but it stuck. I kept my hands busy with the morning chores, scrubbing the big cooking pots until my fingers ached. My face stayed still, like always. But inside, everything was churning. But I just kept scrubbing.

Just after midday, a guard came to the kitchen. "Maren. Alpha Aldric wants you in his study."

My stomach dropped. I tried not to show it. It wasn't a hard room to get to, but I'd been inside it maybe ten times my whole life. Each time, it meant something big and usually bad.

My father didn't call me for pleasantries.

I walked down the long hall, my steps quiet on the stone floor. The oak door was heavy. I pushed it open.

Father was standing by the tall window, his back to me. He always did that. It was like he didn't even need to look at you to make sure you knew he was in charge. He hadn't even turned when I came in. I knew what he thought of me. He’d made it clear my whole life, not with shouts or blows, but by acting like I was a problem he had to put up with. Like I was a mistake. My mother, Sera, had given him a daughter, and he’d never forgiven her, or me, for it.

"You're here," he said, his voice flat. He didn't turn.

"Yes, Father." I kept my voice just as flat. No sense in showing feeling. He wouldn’t care.

"An arrangement has been made," he said. He looked at the outside world, not me. "You are to be mated to Caius of Ironblood Pack."

My breath caught. Caius Ironblood. The name was like thunder, even whispered. Everyone knew it.

"He is the most powerful Alpha in the territory," Father continued. Still looking out the window, like he was talking to himself. "The arrangement has been made. You will conduct yourself accordingly."

Four sentences. That was it. No asking. No explaining. Like he was telling me about a new fence post or a herd of cattle being sold. That’s how he always treated me. Like I was just another thing to manage.

"When?" I asked. My voice didn't shake. I was good at keeping it still.

He finally turned then. His eyes swept over me, cold and quick.

"Twelve days," he said.

He didn't wait for me to say anything else. He just nodded toward the door, a quick, sharp tilt of his head. Dismissed.

I found my mother in the washroom. She was standing over a basin, wringing out linens that didn't need wringing. They were already dry, folded neatly beside her. I knew then. Before she even looked at me, I knew she already knew.

"Mama?" I said.

She turned slowly. Her eyes were red, but she wasn't crying. Not yet. She never cried in front of me unless she couldn't help it. She just had this way of looking at me, like I was the most important thing in the world, even when no one else saw it. That was her, my mother. She loved me. Fiercely, quietly, always. That love was the only soft thing in my hard life.

"Maren," she whispered. She dropped the linen, her hands falling to her sides.

We just stood there for a moment. The air felt heavy.

"He told me," I finally said.

She nodded. Her gaze was on the floor. "I’m sorry, my heart."

"Did you know for long?"

"A few days. Aldric… he said it was for the good of the pack. To secure our borders." She tried to make it sound reasonable.

"He just said Caius Ironblood. And twelve days."

Mama walked over to me, her hand reaching out to touch my arm. It felt warm, a comfort I rarely got. "Caius is powerful, Maren. Everyone knows that. His territory is huge. You would have standing there. More than you could ever have here."

She started to build a story, a good one, where this was a chance. I watched her, watched her try to make this awful thing into something bright. It hurt, physically, to see her try so hard to shield me.

"Mama," I said, my voice low. "You can tell me what you're actually afraid of."

A long quiet hung between us. It felt like forever. She pulled her hand back, then she picked up a crumpled linen again, but she didn’t wring it. She just held it.

"That he's a man like your father," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "but with more power."

The truth. It hung in the air, cold and sharp. My father, who had never hit me, but whose indifference was a colder kind of pain. Who made me feel like I didn’t exist. To think of another man like that, but with even more control, made fear prickle my skin. But also, a tiny, awful flicker. A hope. A chance to be somewhere else.

That night, Reva snuck into my small room. She moved like a shadow, quick and quiet. She sat on the edge of my sleeping mat, her eyes wide.

"I found out things," she whispered. Reva was always like that... just the facts, and also what she thought about those facts, all bundled up and delivered fast.

"Tell me," I said.

"Caius Ironblood. He took control of their pack when he was only twenty-three. His father was killed in some big border fight. And get this... he doubled their territory in two years. Doubled it! No Alpha in the whole region has ever tried to challenge him twice. If they do, they don't try a third time."

I listened, my mind working. Fast. Strong. Dangerous.

"He's not known for being cruel," Reva continued, her voice lower now. "But he's not known for being gentle either. People just say... he's known for one thing: he always gets exactly what he wants."

I was quiet for a bit, thinking about it all. Strong. Gets what he wants. What did he want?

"Does anyone know what he wants with Ashveil?" I asked. My voice sounded small even to my own ears.

Reva shook her head. "No one seems to know. It’s strange. We’re not the biggest pack. Not the richest." She said she didn't know, but her eyes, in the dim light, said something else. They said she had a guess, a bad one.

After Reva left, I lay on my sleeping mat. The ceiling was just dark. I stared at it, letting the words roll around in my head. Caius Ironblood. Twelve days. My mother's fear. My father's cold dismissal.

And then, just for a moment, in the dark where no one could see me, I allowed it. That terrible, specific hope. The thought that maybe, just maybe, this awful thing. This being sold. This handing over. This might be the thing that takes me out of here. It might be the only way. And for the first time in my life, I wanted something. I wanted out.