CHAPTER 6: The Opposite Wing

Earlene

The carriage finally jerked to a halt. My legs were completely numb from the hours of riding in pitch-black silence. I had spent the entire journey bracing myself against the leather seat, expecting the monster sitting across from me to speak.

He never did. He just sat in the dark, an unmovable shadow, ignoring my existence entirely.

The carriage door swung open. The biting northern wind rushed in, slicing right through my thin dress. I shivered violently and stepped out into the snow.

I had spent my whole life hearing rumors about the North. The stories claimed Thorne ruled from a dark, frozen dungeon filled with bones and ice. The reality standing in front of me was very different.

It was a sprawling castle built from heavy dark stone. Snow covered the high roofs and the training yards, but the place was alive.

Bright, roaring fires burned in the tall windows, casting a warm yellow glow across the courtyard. It looked incredibly strong, built to withstand the end of the world.

Thorne stepped out of the carriage behind me. His boots crunched heavily in the snow. I expected him to hand me over to his Vanguard. Vane was already standing nearby, barking sharp orders to the northern soldiers to unload the horses.

Instead, Thorne walked right past Vane. He didn't look at me, but he gave a short, curt nod toward the wooden doors of the castle.

"Follow me," he said with his voice completely flat.

I locked my trembling jaw and followed him.

We walked through the massive entrance and into the torch-lit corridors. The inside of the fortress was just as imposing as the outside.

The stone walls were thick, lined with iron sconces holding blazing torches that fought back the winter chill.

Every time we passed a guard or a servant, they immediately stopped and bowed deeply. Thorne didn't acknowledge a single one of them.

He also didn't acknowledge me.

We walked in complete silence. My frustration grew with every step. In my father's throne room, he had acted like he would burn the world down if he didn't get me.

He had forced my father to his knees and dragged me out of my home. Now, he was treating me like a piece of misplaced luggage he had to drop off. His absolute, business-like indifference was maddening.

He took a sharp turn down a long, quiet hallway. We finally stopped in front of a thick oak door with heavy iron hinges. He pushed the door open and stepped aside, waiting for me to enter.

I walked in and stopped in my tracks.

It not a cell. It was breathtakingly beautiful. The chamber was massive. A huge stone hearth dominated the far wall, with a roaring fire already burning inside, filling the room with intense heat.

The floors were covered in thick, woven rugs. A large bed sat in the center, draped in expensive furs. It was the most luxurious room I had ever seen, far better than the closet I had lived in back at the palace.

But as I looked around at the stone walls and the thick glass windows, a cold knot formed in my stomach. It was beautiful, but it felt exactly like a high-end vault.

Thorne stood in the doorway, blocking the exit with his broad shoulders.

"I have called for maids to attend to your needs," he said, his tone devoid of any emotion. "They will bring you hot water and proper clothing. The clothes you are wearing will not protect you here."

I looked down at my plain dress, then back up at him. "I didn't ask for a new wardrobe."

"You didn't have to," he replied smoothly. "You are in my territory now. You will be clothed and fed according to my standards."

He placed his hand on the iron door handle, preparing to pull it shut. He was actually going to leave. After terrifying me, buying me, and dragging me across the continent, he was just going to lock me in a room and walk away.

My annoyance boiled over. I was tired of being treated like a ghost.

"Are you just going to leave me here?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

Thorne paused. He didn't step back into the room, but he looked at me. "I have a territory to run. The borders need to be secured after my absence. I have given you a warm room and staff. What else do you require?"

"I don't require anything," I snapped, taking a step toward him. "But I have a question."

He simply stared at me, waiting. His face was a blank mask.

"Why aren't we staying together?" I asked.

The question hung in the warm air between us. I wasn't asking because I wanted to share a bed with the ruthless warlord. I was asking because I understood how packs worked.

If he claimed me as a mate, we were supposed to be housed together. By separating us the moment we arrived, he was making a very clear, deliberate statement.

Thorne didn't flinch. He didn't look uncomfortable. He simply looked down at me and gave a flat, unsatisfying response.

"My chambers are in the opposite wing."

"The opposite wing?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. "Why?"

"Because that is where my chambers are," he said plainly, completely dismissing my actual question.

He started to pull the door shut again.

My hands balled into fists at my sides. I wanted to step forward and grab the thick fur of his cloak. I wanted to force him to look at me like a person instead of a political problem.

The words rushed up my throat, hot and desperate. I wanted to push further. I wanted to demand answers.

‘Am I a Luna here?* I wanted to yell at him. ‘Or am I just a prisoner with a beautiful view?’

I opened my mouth to shout the words.

But Thorne stopped moving.

He slowly turned his head. His dark eyes locked directly onto mine.

He didn't say a single word. He didn't raise his hand or make a threatening gesture. He didn't have to. The sheer, crushing weight of his gaze slammed into me. The invisible pressure of his aura– the exact same terrifying heaviness that had forced my father's entire army into the mud—

– flooded the doorway.

It pinned my feet to the floorboards and the air in my lungs turned instantly to lead.

The silent intimidation in his eyes was absolute. He was reminding me, without a single breath, exactly who he was and who I was. He was the Alpha of the North. I was a girl standing in a room he owned. I did not give him orders, and I did not demand his time.

The words I wanted to scream died instantly in my throat. I snapped my mouth shut, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in my mouth as my heart hammered violently against my ribs, betraying my fear.

Thorne held my gaze for one more long, heavy second, making sure I understood the silent boundary he had just drawn between us.

Then, he blinked, breaking the pressure.

He turned his back to me and pulled the door shut with a solid click.

I stood completely frozen in the center of the beautiful, warm room. I stared at the closed door, listening to the thud of his boots walking down the stone corridor.

Even long after his footsteps disappeared into the shadows of the fortress, I could still feel the suffocating pressure of his presence lingering in the air.

I was still staring at the door when it swung open again.