Blackthorn Hall

The ride to Blackthorn Hall felt like a funeral procession.

The black SUV cut through the night, its tinted windows reflecting nothing but shadows. I sat rigidly in the back seat, my hands clenched so tightly in my lap that my knuckles ached. Beside me, Damon was a wall of silence and power, his gaze fixed out the window as though I wasn’t even there.

Every mile carried me farther from the ashes of my old life, deeper into his.

I tried not to stare at him, but it was impossible. The soft glow from the dashboard lights carved his profile into something almost unreal—sharp cheekbones, strong jaw, lips pressed in a hard line. His presence filled the car, a force so overwhelming my wolf stirred restlessly, whining for his touch.

I hated her for that.

“You’ll find the transition easier if you accept the rules quickly,” Damon said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

I turned to him, startled. “Rules?”

His eyes slid to mine, dark and unreadable. “Blackthorn Hall runs on order. You’ll be expected to obey house protocols. Meals at set times. Guards stationed where I see fit. And under no circumstances do you leave the estate without my permission.”

I bristled. “So I’m a prisoner now?”

His gaze hardened. “You’re my Luna by contract. My responsibility. And yes, my possession. I won’t have you wandering into danger—or worse, jeopardizing the deal we’ve made.”

Heat rushed to my face, anger and humiliation colliding in my chest. “You may have bought my obedience, Damon, but you don’t own me.”

His lips curved into something coldly amused. “We’ll see.”

I turned away, staring out the window at the dark trees flashing by. But inside, my heart hammered, the bond thrumming with every stolen breath.

Blackthorn Hall loomed against the night sky like a fortress. Its stone walls rose high, ivy crawling up their sides as though trying to tame the savage strength of the mansion. Torches burned along the outer gates, casting flickering shadows on the massive iron bars.

It wasn’t a home. It was a throne carved in stone and shadow.

As we pulled through the gates, guards dipped their heads respectfully, their eyes following the SUV with sharp curiosity. I could feel it—every gaze trained on me, the outsider, the woman bound to their Alpha by ink and obligation.

The car rolled to a stop before the grand steps. Damon stepped out first, the gravel crunching beneath his boots. He didn’t offer me a hand; he didn’t even look back. He simply expected me to follow.

My pride flared, but I followed anyway.

Inside, the hall was even more imposing. High ceilings stretched into darkness, chandeliers dripping with crystals that caught the light of the fire roaring in the hearth. Wolf heads, carved from silver, lined the walls like silent sentinels. Everything gleamed with wealth and dominance, and yet it all felt cold—like a palace built for a king who had no need for warmth.

“This will be your home now,” Damon said, his voice echoing through the vast space. “Your rooms are on the east wing. You’ll find them more than comfortable.”

I caught the faintest trace of disdain in his tone, as though comfort was something he thought I didn’t deserve.

A woman in a maid’s uniform appeared, bowing her head low. “Alpha. Luna.”

The title struck me like a blade. Luna. My heart clenched, the word both sweet and bitter. I wasn’t his Luna, not truly. I was his contract bride, a pawn in his calculated game.

“Take her upstairs,” Damon ordered, not even sparing me another glance. “Make sure she has what she needs.”

“Yes, Alpha,” the maid said.

I wanted to scream at him, to demand why he wouldn’t even look at me when every fiber of my being burned for his attention. But I bit the words back, clenching my fists at my sides.

He had given me rules. He had given me chains. But he had also given me a choice when no one else had. And now, I was here—bound to him whether I liked it or not.

The east wing was quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling noise of the main hall. The maid led me to a suite larger than any space I had ever called my own. The room was draped in velvet and silk, the canopy bed towering like something out of a dream. A fireplace glowed warmly, and a balcony overlooked the sprawling grounds of Blackthorn territory.

It was beautiful. And it felt like a cage.

“Dinner is served at seven,” the maid said softly, setting down a tray of fruit and tea. “You’ll be expected in the dining hall.”

I nodded mutely.

Once she left, I sank onto the bed, my hands burying themselves in the thick quilt. My chest felt heavy, suffocated by the silence.

Was this what my life would be? A gilded cage, meals at appointed times, a husband who looked at me like a contract instead of a mate?

I pressed a hand to my chest, where the bond burned like a secret flame. No matter how cold Damon acted, the bond was real. I felt it every time he walked into the room. Every time his gaze lingered, even for the briefest second.

Why did he fight it? Why did he fight me?

The questions churned inside me, unanswered.

Dinner was an exercise in restraint.

The long dining table stretched the length of the room, covered in silver platters and crystal glasses. Damon sat at the head, a figure of authority in his dark suit, his presence filling every inch of the space. Warriors and pack leaders flanked the table, their conversations hushed as I entered.

All eyes turned to me.

My spine stiffened, but I forced myself forward, my chin high. If Damon thought I would shrink in his shadow, he was wrong.

He gestured to the seat at his right. “Sit.”

I did, though the word burned.

Throughout the meal, whispers filled the air. Questions. Curiosity. Judgments. Some looked at me with respect, others with suspicion, but all of them watched.

I picked at the food on my plate, my appetite lost beneath the weight of their stares. Damon ate with quiet precision, never once acknowledging the tension pressing down around us.

Finally, one of the elders spoke. “Alpha, forgive my boldness, but… is it true? She is your mate?”

The table fell silent.

My heart stuttered. I turned to Damon, waiting for his answer.

His eyes met mine for a fraction of a second before he looked to the elder. “She is my Luna,” he said evenly. “And that is all you need to know.”

The room buzzed with murmurs. My chest tightened. He hadn’t denied the bond, but he hadn’t embraced it either. I was a title. A role. Nothing more.

I clenched my fork so tightly my knuckles turned white.

When dinner ended, Damon stood, commanding the room without a word. The pack bowed their heads in respect. Then his gaze shifted to me.

“Walk with me.”

It wasn’t a request.

The night air outside was cool, carrying the earthy scent of pine and rain. Damon strode beside me, silent at first, his hands clasped behind his back.

Finally, I broke. “Why did you bring me here if all you see me as is an obligation? Why sign a contract at all if you could have any woman in the world?”

He stopped, turning to face me. His eyes caught the moonlight, glinting with something fierce. “Because none of them are mine.”

The words stole the breath from my lungs.

For the first time, his mask slipped. His gaze burned into mine, raw and unguarded. The bond between us pulsed like wildfire, so strong it hurt.

But then he blinked, the shutters slamming back into place. “Don’t mistake necessity for affection,” he said coldly. “You are here because we made a deal. Nothing more.”

And with that, he turned, striding back toward the hall, leaving me trembling beneath the weight of the bond we both refused to name.

That night, alone in my room, I lay awake staring at the ceiling. The contract had chained me to him, but it wasn’t the ink that bound me.

It was fate.

And no matter how fiercely Damon Veylor tried to deny it, no matter how many rules or walls he built around his heart, I knew one thing:

This was only the beginning.