Chapter 2 - Is he obsessed?

ARIA'S POV

The ride to Ironfang was a long, brutal eternity. Every jolt of the cart sent a new spike of pain through my body, a dull ache that settled deep in my bones. I was a sack of potatoes, a piece of meat. I was nothing. My wrists were raw from the auction chain, and the new collar on my neck felt like a brand, cold and heavy against my skin. The air tasted of dust and wet earth, and with every breath, I tasted the memory of my own shame. I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't. Not for them.

When the cart finally stopped, the sudden, unnatural silence was worse than the endless jolting. I felt a gate groaning open, the low rasp of iron on stone, and then the scent hit me. Not just the scent of wolves, but the scent of this pack. A brutal, sharp tang of frost and blood and something else, something cold and metallic that settled in the back of my throat. It was the smell of power.

A pair of hands, rough and unforgiving, grabbed me and yanked me from the cart. I stumbled, my feet finding no purchase on the uneven ground. I was in a courtyard, a vast, open space lit by a dozen flickering torches. The flames cast long, dancing shadows on the stone walls of the fortress, a dark, jagged thing that clawed at the night sky. But the fortress wasn't the worst part. The wolves were.

They were everywhere. A sea of them. Golden eyes in the darkness, the glint of teeth, the silent, predatory stillness of a pack on the hunt. They watched me, their faces a blank canvas of cold indifference, their eyes flicking over my body like I was a thing to be judged. I could feel their thoughts, a silent, mocking hum in the air.

A human?

Look at that scrap of a thing.

That's the Alpha's new breeder? She won't last a week.

I kept my head bowed. Don't look, don't hope, don't think. That was the rule. The only I had been taught to obey.

A wolf stepped forward, a massive man whose sheer size made my skin prickle with cold. His eyes were a startling shade of green, and his face was a mask of utter contempt as he looked me over.

"This is it, Alpha?" he growled, the words meant for someone I couldn't see.

My stomach clenched. I didn't need to see him. I could feel him. Caelan Black's presence was a physical weight in the air, a suffocating heat that made my skin prickle with a mixture of fear and something else, something hot and dangerous that I refused to name.

"She's a human, a breeder," the wolf said, his voice laced with disgust. "She looks like she'd break in a strong wind."

A low, guttural voice answered. It wasn't Caelan's. It was his wolf's. A thing of pure, untamed power. It rattled the air itself, the sound of a beast unleashed.

"She is mine. And she is unbroken. That's enough for now."

The Beta's eyes widened, and he took a step back, a flicker of fear in his gaze. I felt a sick, twisted sort of victory. His wolf, the very thing he kept leashed, was defending me. But not as a person. As a possession.

The Alpha's wolf spoke again, not in the low growl, but in a series of commands. Words that I understood without knowing why, a language of power and dominance. The wolves in the crowd stiffened, a hushed silence falling over them. The Beta, with a look of pure loathing, grabbed my arm and dragged me toward a small stage, a raised platform in the center of the courtyard.

I was forced onto the stage, where the full weight of their disgust came crashing down on me. The Beta grabbed a pair of iron shears and, without a word, began to cut away the rags I was wearing. The sound of the shears was a brutal, final note. I felt the cold air on my bare skin, and the stares of a hundred wolves. I wanted to scream, to cover myself, to hide. I closed my eyes instead. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing my shame.

The Beta was gone, and new hands, a woman's hands, dressed me in a dress of thin gray linen. It was nothing more than a simple slip of fabric, with no pockets, no buttons, no zippers, just a simple slit in the back and a pair of ties to hold it together. It was a mockery of a dress, a symbol of my new life.

The woman was a frail looking Omega. Her face drawn, her eyes vacant. She took the collar from my neck and replaced it with another, this one a thick band of silver, the cold of the metal searing my skin. The Omega looked at me, a flicker of pity in her eyes, and then she looked away. She was in a cage, but she was still a wolf.

A new voice, a woman's, cut through the silence. "Is this the thing, Caelan?"

I opened my eyes. She was a woman with blonde hair, an hourglass figure, and a haughty smirk. She was Lysandra, a Beta from the council, I knew from the whispers. She looked at me with open disgust, her eyes filled with a pure, unadulterated loathing.

"She's just a human," she sneered, her voice full of contempt. "A kennel bitch, a pet. She's not worthy of your bed, let alone your name."

The word "pet" stung worse than any whip. It was a word that took away everything I was, everything I had ever hoped to be. It was a word that made me less than human, less than nothing.

Caelan stepped into the torchlight. He was a force of nature, a thing of muscle and cruelty. He strode toward me, his golden eyes fixed on my face, and I felt a shiver of pure terror. He stopped in front of me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand, as big as my head, closed around my neck, and he lifted my head to meet his eyes.

"She's not a pet," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that promised violence. "She's a breeder. A vessel. And she's mine."

Lysandra paled. Her eyes, filled with loathing, were now filled with fear. Caelan, the brutal Alpha, was defending me. But not as a human. Not as a person. As property.

"Get her to the kennels," she ordered the guards.

I felt a surge of relief. The kennels. At least it was a place for animals, a place where I could at least stay away from their hateful eyes and plan an escape or something. At least it was a place where I would be safe. But my relief was short lived.

"No," he said, his eyes on mine. "She's not going to the kennels. She's coming with me."

My heart stopped. My blood ran cold. He wasn't taking me to the kennels. He was taking me to his chambers.

My eyes widened in terror as Caelan's hand closed around my wrist, pulling me away from the pack and the promise of a kennel. The whispers started again, but this time they were different, filled with a new kind of fear and unease.

Is he obsessed?

He's taking a human to his own bed?

He's bringing her into his private chambers... why?

I didn't need to hear their whispers. I already knew.

The kennels were for pets. His chambers were for breaking.