Chapter 6

Elara

The room they’ve given me is small and bare, nothing more than a bed, a narrow chest, and a single candle flickering on a rough wooden table.

It’s still more than I ever had in Bloodfang.

The walls here are smooth stone, cold to the touch, and the tiny window is barred. Even the air feels heavier, as though it’s pressing down on me, reminding me that this isn’t freedom. It’s a prettier prison.

Leira left me here after a brief, clipped explanation of where the bathing chambers and dining hall were located. She didn’t speak to me again after that, only gave me a cool, assessing look before leaving, her amber eyes sharp as a hawk’s.

The silence now is suffocating.

I sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing my wrists where the ropes burned my skin raw. The faint marks stand out against my pale flesh like brands. My throat tightens, memories clawing their way back—Garrick’s sneer as he tied me down for the journey, the laughter of Bloodfang warriors as they called me worthless, broken.

I thought nothing could be worse than Bloodfang.

But this place… this place feels different.

More dangerous.

At Bloodfang, everyone knew exactly where I stood: at the bottom. I was the girl with no wolf, no family, no power. Invisible until they wanted someone to hurt.

Here, I don’t know what I am. I don’t understand their rules, their looks, their silence. The Ironhide wolves are sharper, harder. Even the omegas I glimpsed on the way in carried themselves differently. They weren’t meek or hunched. They didn’t shuffle like beaten dogs.

And they looked at me like I was the weakness here.

I lie back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. My body aches from the journey, but sleep doesn’t come. Every time I close my eyes, I see Kael—towering, cold, unreadable.

The moment he stepped forward and untied me himself, his hands brushing my skin, something strange sparked inside me. A shiver that wasn’t entirely fear.

I hate that I noticed.

Why me?

Why would an Alpha like him accept a wolfless omega into his pack? There has to be a reason, and whatever it is, I doubt it’s good for me.

The door creaks, and I sit up sharply, heart pounding.

Leira steps inside, carrying a tray of food. The smell of roasted meat makes my stomach growl painfully. I haven’t eaten since before the journey, and even then, it was only stale bread Garrick had tossed at me like scraps.

“You’ll eat here tonight,” Leira says, setting the tray down. Her tone is neutral, but there’s an edge to it. “Tomorrow, you’ll join the other omegas for morning duties.”

I blink. “Morning duties?”

Leira’s mouth twists slightly, as if I’ve asked something foolish. “You’ll work. This isn’t Bloodfang. We don’t keep our omegas as pets or whipping posts. Everyone serves the pack in some way.”

The words hit me like a slap. I’ve been so conditioned to expect cruelty that the idea of work almost sounds… like freedom.

But her next words strip away that fragile hope.

“However,” she continues, her sharp gaze pinning me in place, “don’t mistake this for kindness. You may not be a slave here, but you’re not one of us, either. The Alpha brought you for his reasons, not yours.”

I swallow hard. “I… I don’t understand.”

Leira studies me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. “You don’t need to. Just follow orders. Keep your head down. And never, ever, forget who you belong to.”

My pulse stutters. “Kael.”

“Yes.” There’s a flicker of something in her eyes—fear, maybe, or respect. “He’s the only one standing between you and the others. They don’t want you here. Some will challenge his decision openly. Others will wait for a chance to… correct what they see as a mistake.”

My stomach knots. “Why?”

Leira hesitates, then sighs. “Because you’re wolfless. Because you’re different. And because anything different is seen as weakness.” She straightens, suddenly brisk again. “Eat. Rest. Tomorrow will be harder.”

She leaves without another word, shutting the door behind her with a finality that makes my chest ache.

I stare at the tray, at the perfectly cooked meat and warm bread. My hands shake as I reach for it, half-expecting someone to snatch it away before I can take a bite.

No one does.

The food is good. Better than anything I’ve ever tasted. Tears prick my eyes as I chew, but I blink them away fiercely. Crying won’t help me here. Nothing will.

When I’m finished, I crawl under the rough wool blanket and curl up tightly. The room is quiet now, but not peaceful.

Somewhere beyond these walls, wolves move in the night. I can hear their howls—haunting, wild, filled with a strength I’ll never know.

I imagine Kael among them, his powerful form silhouetted against the moonlight, his voice commanding the pack with unshakable authority.

And then, I imagine his gray eyes turning toward me, cold and merciless.

I hug myself, shivering despite the blanket.

Whatever plans he has for me, they won’t end well. I know that deep in my bones.

But there’s something worse than fear gnawing at me as sleep finally drags me under.

It’s the memory of how my pulse quickened when his fingers brushed my skin.

And the horrifying truth that, for just one heartbeat, I wanted him to touch me again.