CHAPTER 3

The sound came from deep inside me, low and wild, like an animal caged for too long.

A growl.

My growl.

Heat surged under my skin, racing down my arms, curling my fingers into claws that weren’t there. My heart beat double-time, my breath came fast. The scents around me sharpened, the walls seemed to vibrate. What’s happening? Moon Goddess, what’s happening to me?

Panic clawed at my throat. I tried to steady myself, but my knees buckled. Then the door behind me slammed open and a hard shove sent me flying.

I stumbled into something solid, my palms slapping against a broad chest.

My eyes shot up.

Alpha.

Cold, stormy eyes. Power rolling off him in waves. My chest tightened, and I dropped my gaze instantly, head bowing. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean—”

His hand clamped around my arm, so tight it felt like my bone might crack. He yanked me forward, dragging me down the corridor. My feet scrambled to keep up, tears already burning my eyes. Inside, my prayers began. Moon Goddess, help me. Please. Don’t let it be too much tonight. Don’t let me break. Please.

He stopped at a heavy door, threw it open, and shoved me inside. I staggered, hitting the edge of a table and nearly falling.

Before I could catch my breath, his fingers snapped up to my chin, gripping me hard, forcing my head up. His voice was low, teeth gritted.

“What were you trying to do to my guest?”

“I—Alpha, I wasn’t—”

The slap came before I could finish. Hot, sharp, like hot oil on my skin. My head jerked sideways, vision flashing white.

“What were you doing?” he demanded again.

“I didn’t mean—”

Another slap. Same spot. Pain doubled, echoing in my skull.

His eyes burned holes through me. “Did you want him to touch you? Is that what you wanted?”

I shook my head desperately, lips trembling, but no sound came out. Words had abandoned me.

His mouth twisted. “Since you act like a dog, you’ll be treated like one.”

My knees gave out. I dropped to the floor, palms pressed to the cold stone. “Please… Alpha… I didn’t—”

But he wasn’t looking at me like a pack member. No, he never did. Just a creature beneath his boots. I felt the ripple of his command, the mind-link spreading out, summoning the mateless wolves. The weight of it pressed against my chest. No… no, please…

I threw myself forward, forehead nearly to the floor, hands out in supplication. “Please, I didn’t do anything! Please forgive me. It wasn’t long when the door opened. Footsteps. Many. Too many. Shadows filled the room.

I pressed myself back against the wall, heart hammering, tears streaking my face.

I close my eyes and wait for the thing I cannot bear. I wait for the body I cannot name. I wait for the moment that will change me forever.

And just as the first hand reaches for me, something else happens — small, sudden, impossible.

A voice, low and unreadable, cuts across the room; it is not my Alpha’s, nor the omega’s, and not one of the mateless. It is measured and owns every quiet in the space.

“Stop.”

Time tilts on that single command. Every hand in the room freezes like prey at the end of a spear. Breath hangs like a held note. I open my eyes. Alpha Mace stands at the threshold, framed by the open door, his shoulders broad like a cliff. His expression is flat as a winter sky. He steps forward, and every man in the room shifts, instinctively giving him space.

He looks at me. The room waits.

Hope flickered in my chest for the first time.

He stepped forward, voice a low rumble:

“That’s enough.”

And everything stopped.

Every wolf who had stepped forward now stood locked in place, caught between my Alpha’s command and the new voice that cut through it. Even the air felt different, as if it held its breath.

Alpha Mace didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. His words carried the weight of storms and steel, and every man in that room knew it.

“That’s enough.”

The mateless wolves who had been closing in faltered, eyes flicking between him and my Alpha. The tension was thick, ready to snap.

I pressed myself harder against the wall, chest heaving. My palms burned from scraping stone, my knees numb from kneeling. I didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe too loud, but… something inside me shifted.

Hope. Small. Fragile. A spark in endless night.

Alpha Mace’s eyes found me. They pinned me, dark and unblinking, and the spark shuddered into something else—something sharp. My wolf stirred again, restless, pressing at the edges of my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to hold her down. This wasn’t the time. This wasn’t safe.

“Out,” Mace ordered, his gaze never leaving mine.

The mateless wolves hesitated. My Alpha bristled, his jaw clenched. But slowly, one by one, the men began to back away. Their footsteps scraped across the floor, reluctant, confused, until the door closed and I was left in the room with two Alphas—the one who hated me, and the one who had just stopped everything.

The silence was worse than the shouting.

I lowered my gaze to the floor, my whole body trembling. My Alpha’s fury burned beside me, but it was Mace’s presence that made my heart pound like a wild drum.

Why had he stopped them? Why me?

I didn’t dare ask. I didn’t dare move.

Then Mace’s voice came again, low and calm, yet it filled every corner of the room.

“She’s mine.”

My wolf surged again, a hot, wild pulse beneath my skin. Her presence filled my chest, pushing at my ribs, low growls curling up my throat like smoke. My hands dug into the floor as if the stone might anchor me.

Then my Alpha’s voice thundered across the room, heavy and commanding:

“She doesn’t belong to anyone. Not even you, Alpha Mace.”

The sound struck like a lash. My wolf flinched inside me, then vanished as if she’d been shoved back into a cage. The sudden emptiness in my chest made me sway.

It hit me then — she was scared. My wolf was scared of him. Of our Alpha.

I swallowed hard, eyes fixed on the floor, heart beating in a strange, broken rhythm.

My Alpha’s voice softened, but not with kindness. With calculation.

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” he said to Alpha Mace, “but I can get you someone better than her, if you want.”

Alpha Mace’s answer came without hesitation, flat and iron-heavy:

“I want her.”

The words slammed into me. My head snapped up, just a little, eyes flicking toward him. But he wasn’t even looking at me. His profile was carved from ice, unreadable. My heart — my heart stuttered. A single word came to me, unbidden: caught.

Then Alpha Mace added, his tone like a blade sliding free:

“I want her as my slave. It’s the price I want from you.”

The floor seemed to tilt under me. My breath caught, jagged. A slave. My stomach turned cold. Was this a rescue? A trade? A different kind of cage?

My Alpha’s jaw worked, his eyes dark. “I’m sorry, but that’s impossible, Alpha. Ask another price.”

“She’s the one I want.”

“You can’t have her.”

“Why?”

Silence.

The quiet stretched, thick and strange. My Alpha’s mouth opened, then closed again. He didn’t answer.

Alpha Mace’s voice cut through the silence, calm but final:

“Since you have no answer, then it’s done. She’s mine now. And no one should touch her from now on.”

My breath stopped. The room spun. A moment ago, I’d been a nothing on the floor; now two Alphas had carved me into a price.

Alpha Mace turned at last, his eyes locking onto me. “Get up.”

I looked from my Alpha to him, searching for a hint of mercy, a trap, anything. My Alpha’s gaze was a storm of fury and secrets. Alpha Mace’s was flat, commanding, endless.

My body moved before my mind did. Slowly, trembling, I pushed myself up from the floor. My knees felt like water, my palms were slick with sweat, but I rose.

The silence in the room pressed against my skin. I could feel both of them watching me, like prey caught between two predators. My knees wobbled but I stayed upright, head bowed, hands clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms.

Alpha Mace didn’t look at my Alpha again. He turned toward the door, his voice steady, leaving no space for question.

“Come.”

One word. Low. Commanding.

My feet hesitated. My eyes flicked, just once, to my Alpha — the man who had owned my every breath, who had broken me until I forgot my own name. He didn’t meet my eyes. His jaw was locked, his stare somewhere beyond me, a storm swirling behind it.

Something in my chest twisted. For years he’d treated me like I was nothing. Now he was letting me be taken, handed over like a piece of meat. And yet his silence was not surrender. It was something colder.

I stepped forward on shaking legs, clutching the rag still in my hands like it could protect me. Each step toward the door felt like stepping off a cliff.

The corridor outside was full. Pack members lined the walls, heads bowed, their eyes flicking up to watch. Some stared with pity. Others with disgust. Most with blank curiosity, like they were watching an animal being led away.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to melt into the floorboards and become dust. But Alpha Mace’s presence filled the hall like a storm front. Wherever he walked, the crowd shifted back, instinctively making way.

I followed him, my head down, my pulse in my ears. My wolf was silent, curled somewhere deep inside, too afraid to move.

Alpha Mace didn’t look at me as we walked. His stride was smooth, unhurried, like everything was already decided. The pack’s whispers trailed behind us: half-formed words, names, fragments of speculation. Slave. Taken. Price.

My stomach turned. What had I become? Whose hands was I in now?

At the far end of the hall, a door stood open — one of the guest rooms in the east wing. The air inside smelled different, cleaner, edged with his scent. He stepped through first, then turned slightly, his eyes finding me.

“Inside.”

I crossed the threshold, the rag still clutched against my chest like a talisman. The door closed softly behind me, shutting out the pack, the whispers, my Alpha’s shadow.

I stood there, trembling. My breath came in shallow pulls, my hands shaking.

Alpha Mace’s voice came again, quieter now, but no less sure.

“No one will touch you now. Not without my word.”

I blinked, my head jerking up just a fraction. The words were not gentle. They were not a promise. They were a statement of ownership, like a man staking a claim.

Still, for a heartbeat, something flickered inside me — not hope, but something that almost felt like air after drowning.

I lowered my gaze again. “Yes, Alpha.”

“I’m not your Alpha,” his voice cut through, low and hard.

Heat rushed to my face. “I’m sorry…” The words were a whisper.

“What should I call you?” I asked, still staring at the floor.

“Nothing.”

I nodded, throat tight. “Then… what should I assist you with?” My voice trembled.

“Look at me.”

The command slid through the air and settled on my skin like a weight. I forced my head up, eyes trembling as they met his.

“Shift,” he said.

I stared at him, sure I’d misheard. “…what?”

“I hate when I repeat myself.” His tone deepened, steel sliding over stone. “I said shift. Shift into your wolf.”

My lips parted, a tremor in my voice. “I’m sorry, but I… I can’t shift.”

His brow lowered a fraction. “Why?”

“I’ve… I’ve never shifted in my whole life,” I admitted. “I felt her. She’s there. But…” My voice trailed off.

His eyes narrowed. “Position.”

My eyes flew wide. My heart hammered against my ribs. Without thinking, my body moved the way it had been trained, hesitating but obedient. I crossed to the vanity, lifted the edge of my dress with shaking hands, and bent forward, eyes closing, breath held, bracing myself for the inevitable.

Nothing came.

Only his voice.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

My throat went dry. “J-just as you ordered…” I said quietly.

“Come back here.”

I turned slowly, confusion threading through the fear, and stepped back to him, lowering my dress.

“I meant you to position yourself and call out your wolf.”

The words hit me like a slap of cold water. Shame and confusion burned my cheeks. I swallowed hard, nodded, and moved again — this time kneeling on the floor, spine straight, palms open on my thighs, the way I’d seen warriors meditate before a shift. I tried to breathe, tried to reach for the flicker inside me.

But it was like grasping smoke. Every part of my body ached, my limbs numb, my chest heavy. My wolf stayed silent, buried deep.

“I… I can’t do it,” I whispered, eyes opening, voice breaking.

He moved then, slow and deliberate, until he stood before me. His hand came up and caught my chin, tilting my face toward his. His touch was firm, not cruel, but it burned like a live current.

His voice dropped into a tone I’d never heard before — calming yet rough, an order wrapped in command.

“Call her out. Now. Shift.”

The sound of it sent a shiver through me, a pulse like electricity racing down my spine.

He stepped back, giving me space, but his gaze stayed on me — an anchor, a challenge, and something I couldn’t name.