CHAPTER TWO

I couldn't count how many times I screamed and begged. My throat was raw, my voice cracking with desperation, but they didn’t put me down. 

Darius had given the command, and like loyal dogs, they obeyed. The man who carried me—tall, broad, definitely a warrior, maybe his Beta—had slung me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. 

I kicked, clawed, and cursed. I’m pretty sure I left a dozen claw marks down his back and shoulders. I didn’t care. Let him bleed. Let them all bleed. I wouldn't go with them.

But he wouldn't bulge. He just kept on walking.

Eventually, I gave up. 

Not because I was tired—though I was—but because something inside me broke.

My father had given me up. He’d stood there, stone-faced, as if I were a lamb he was happy to sacrifice. No fight. 

No hesitation. No apology. Just cold compliance. 

He’d handed me over like I meant nothing. Like I wasn’t his daughter. Like I wasn’t even a person. 

I could still hear Carla’s screams ringing in my ears.

“LET HER GO! LET HER GO, YOU COWARDS!” 

Her father had her locked in a firm grip, arms wrapped around her like chains. 

She was fighting him harder than I’d ever seen. Her voice cracked with every plea. She was crying. Screaming. Begging. Cursing. 

David was worse. More violent. 

I sobbed as I watched three Crescent Moon warriors hold him down, struggling to keep him from reaching me. He was fighting like a wild animal, teeth bared, eyes furious. They needed all three to keep him grounded, and still, he fought. 

That was the last image I saw of my pack—of my friends.They reached for me as I was dragged away.

The journey to their territory—my new pack, the BloodVeld Pack—wasn’t long. But it felt like forever.

No one said a word. Not a whisper. Just the rhythmic sound of boots in the grass and the occasional rustle of wind. Their silence was terrifying. This wasn’t a pack used to noise or rebellion. 

These were trained warriors—cold, calm, obedient. It was the kind of discipline that made other packs tremble. And I was now walking right into the heart of it. As we crossed the BloodVeld border, we were met by a patrol team. 

They bowed sharply as we passed, murmuring, “Alpha,” in perfect sync. None of them looked at me—yet all of them noticed me. They didn’t have to speak for me to feel their curiosity gazes on my skin like hot beams.

It wasn’t until we reached the pack house—a towering estate of dark stone and steel—that I saw their stares. Pack members stood scattered along the path, watching us approach like I was some exotic animal on display Their eyes trailed me. 

I tried not to meet their gazes, but their voices still reached me. “Is that his chosen mate?” someone whispered. “Why is she being carried like that?” “Did she fight him? Refuse to be bonded?” “She looks too thin for a werewolf.” “I heard she’s shiftless.” 

The word cut deeper than any of the others. I buried my face against the warrior’s back, as if hiding could silence their judgment. 

It didn’t. Their voices chased me until we finally stepped through the heavy double doors of the Alpha’s building. Inside, the murmurs faded. 

The scent changed—cooler, stronger. A mix of pinewood, leather, and something darker. 

Home. 

This was Darius Blackthorn’s home. And now, it was mine. 

“Take her to her room. The one opposite mine” came a deep voice from behind us.

Darius. 

I didn’t turn to look at him. I couldn’t. I felt hollow inside, like if I met his gaze, I might break apart completely. 

The man carrying me climbed the stairs. Each step jostled my aching body, but I stayed still. I was done fighting. 

He finally stopped at a wooden door, opened it, and stepped inside. 

Gently—too gently—he lowered me onto the bed, like I was something fragile. The room was spacious, decorated in soft greys and muted silvers. 

It looked more like a guest room than a prison cell, but that’s what it was. A cage dressed in elegance. 

He hesitated by the door, then turned to face me. 

“I know this must be too much for you,” he said quietly. His voice was soft. Too soft for a warrior who’d just ripped me away from my life. 

His eyes met mine—warm, sympathetic. “I just want you to know,” he continued, “that you’re safe now. 

No harm will come to you here. I promise you that.” 

He offered me a small smile. 

Then he stepped out, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. 

And I was alone. Left to sit in my expensive prison, surrounded by the scent of unfamiliar wolves. 

I moved up the bed and curled up, letting the tears fall freely. 

Who knew my first taste of actual freedom would be so sour. Now I'd never get to see David and Carla again.

And my big sister, Maia, she's going to be so pissed when she finds out what dad has done. 

She's pretty much going to tear this whole place down. But will I ever see her again? I don't know how long I cried for but I did till it got really dark. 

I must have fallen asleep cause the sound of the door suddenly opening, caused me to jump up. Standing at the door was none other than Darius Blackthorn. 

He wore a loose long sleeve shirt that didn't hide his muscles and black joggers. 

His golden eyes locked on to mine as his expression remained stoic. He shut the door behind him and walked to the side of my bed like a predator stalking its prey. 

I pulled my legs closer as I avoided his eyes. 

"I am Darius Blackthorn, Alpha of the BloodVeld Pack, and you are my chosen mate.”