Chapter 2

Elara

By the time dawn seeps through the cracks in the walls, my body aches from a night spent shivering on the hard pallet. I didn’t sleep. How could I? My mind was a restless storm of panic and disbelief, replaying Garrick’s words over and over.

“She will be ready by nightfall.”

I am the “she.”

The offering.

The thing to be handed over like a sack of grain.

A cold, numb determination settles over me as I sit up. I can’t let them see me break. If I show fear, they’ll tear me apart before Kael even arrives. The Bloodfang pack thrives on weakness, and I’ve spent my whole life hiding mine.

But today… today, they mean to strip me of even that.

The door creaks open, and Marra steps inside, her expression smug. Behind her are two other omegas, both carrying buckets of steaming water.

“Get up,” Marra snaps. “You need to be washed and presentable before the Alpha of Ironhide sees you. Can’t have him thinking Garrick trades in filth.”

My stomach twists at her words, but I rise silently. The other omegas avoid my gaze as they set down the buckets. Steam curls into the frigid air, carrying the faint scent of herbs.

Marra’s lips curl into a cruel smile. “Strip.”

I freeze, arms wrapping around myself instinctively. “W-What?”

Her growl is sharp and low. “Don’t play shy now, wolfless. You think Kael will care about your modesty when he’s rutting you like a beast? Strip. Now.”

Shame burns my cheeks, but I do as I’m told, peeling away the thin, tattered tunic until I stand bare before them. The other omegas glance at me quickly, pity flickering in their eyes, then just as quickly look away. They know better than to show kindness where Marra can see.

The water stings my raw, chapped skin as they scrub me down. My bruises stand out in ugly shades of purple and yellow against my pale flesh. Marra notices, her brows raising.

“Tch. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t reject you on sight.” Her tone drips with mock sympathy. “But maybe he likes his toys broken.”

I bite my tongue so hard it almost bleeds. If I lash out, if I so much as glare, Marra will have reason to strike me—and I need my strength for whatever’s coming.

When they finish, Marra tosses a simple gray dress at me. It’s cleaner than anything I’ve worn in years, though still plain. “Put it on,” she orders. “You don’t deserve anything finer.”

The fabric feels strange against my skin as I slip it over my head. It hangs loosely, though Marra cinches it at the waist with a coarse rope. Then she pulls my hair back tightly, scraping my scalp.

“There,” she says with a sharp tug. “Almost presentable.”

Almost.

Never fully.

Never enough.

They march me to a small storage room off the main hall and leave me there with nothing but a stool and my racing thoughts. The heavy wooden door shuts behind them with a thud that echoes in my chest.

Hours pass—or maybe only minutes. I can’t tell. My stomach churns, empty and sour. My fingers twist in the rope belt at my waist until they ache.

Then the door swings open, and Garrick enters.

He fills the doorway, his sheer size making the room feel smaller. His dark eyes rake over me, calculating, as if assessing a piece of livestock before market.

“You will not speak unless spoken to,” he says, his voice a deep rumble. “When Kael arrives, you will bow your head and keep your mouth shut. Understand?”

I nod quickly, my throat too tight to form words.

Garrick steps closer, the scent of dominance and raw power rolling off him like a suffocating wave. “Do not shame me, wolfless. You are nothing, but for this one moment, you serve a purpose. Fail me, and I will make you wish you’d never drawn breath.”

My knees threaten to buckle under the weight of his presence. “I… I understand, Alpha.”

“Good.” He turns on his heel, satisfied. “Kael will be here shortly. Pray to whatever gods you believe in that he takes you.”

The door closes again, leaving me trembling.

⸻

The next time it opens, the air in the hall has shifted. A heavy, oppressive energy hums through the walls, making the hairs on my arms stand on end.

And then I hear him.

Kael’s voice is lower than Garrick’s, colder, like steel drawn across stone. The murmur of his warriors surrounds him, punctuated by the faint clink of weapons and the deep growls of wolves barely restrained.

They’re close.

My breath catches as Garrick’s voice greets them with false warmth. I can’t make out every word, but the tone is unmistakable: calculated diplomacy hiding the threat beneath.

Then the door swings wide, and Kael steps inside.

For a heartbeat, the world narrows to just him.

He’s even more fearsome up close. Towering, broad-shouldered, every line of his body radiating lethal strength. His black hair gleams in the dim light, tied back to reveal sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw dusted with stubble. But it’s his eyes that pin me in place—piercing, icy gray, and utterly unreadable.

Those eyes flick over me like a blade sliding across flesh.

My instinct screams at me to bow, so I do, sinking to my knees and lowering my head. My heart slams against my ribs so hard it hurts.

“She’s wolfless,” Kael says after a long, tense moment. His tone is flat, giving nothing away. “You didn’t mention that.”

I flinch. Shame prickles hot and sharp beneath my skin.

Garrick’s answering chuckle is smooth, practiced. “She may lack a wolf, but she is young, healthy, and… untouched. A blank slate for you to mold as you see fit.”

The implication makes bile rise in my throat.

Kael steps closer. I can feel his presence like a storm gathering overhead, his power so immense it presses on my skin, my lungs, my very bones. Slowly, I lift my gaze—just enough to see the boots stopping inches from my knees.

“Look at me,” he commands.

The words are soft, but there’s no disobeying them. My head tilts up, and our eyes meet.

His gaze is sharp and assessing, stripping me bare in a way that makes my breath hitch. There’s no lust there, no kindness—only cold calculation, as though he’s weighing whether I’m worth the trouble.

“Stand,” he orders.

I obey, though my legs shake so badly I nearly stumble. He circles me like a predator sizing up prey, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he stops in front of me, so close I can feel the heat of his body. One large hand lifts, and I flinch instinctively—but he merely grips my chin, tilting my face up. His calloused fingers are rough against my skin.

“Hmm.” The sound is thoughtful, dangerous. “Fragile. But… perhaps useful.”

He releases me abruptly, and I sway on my feet.

Kael turns to Garrick. “The agreement stands. I’ll take her.”

Relief and terror crash through me in equal measure. My hands curl into fists at my sides, hidden in the folds of my dress. This is it. No turning back.

Garrick smiles, all sharp teeth. “Excellent. May this trade strengthen both our packs.”

Kael doesn’t respond. Instead, he gestures to one of his warriors, a massive man with scars across his face. “Bind her wrists. She rides with us.”

My mouth goes dry. Bind me? Like a prisoner?

I stumble back a step, panic rising. “Please, I—”

A sharp growl cuts me off. Garrick’s, low and warning. “Silence.”

The warrior grabs me before I can react, his grip like iron. Rope bites into my skin as he ties my wrists. I struggle, but it’s useless. They don’t even bother shifting to wolves. I’m that little of a threat.

Kael’s gaze flickers to me, unreadable. “Do not fight,” he says, his tone softer now, but no less commanding. “It will only make this harder.”

I bite back a sob and nod, though tears sting my eyes.

As they lead me out into the cold night, I cast one last glance at the Bloodfang pack house. The place of my nightmares, the only home I’ve ever known.

Garrick watches from the doorway, a satisfied smile on his face.

And just like that, I’m gone—taken into the darkness, toward a future more terrifying than anything I’ve ever imagined.