Chapter 3

Tyla POV

When the knock interrupted, Alpha Lucas, I had felt a glimmer of hope—a chance to escape.

"What is it?" Lucas snarled at the door, his voice sharp with annoyance.

A male voice from the other side responded, "Alpha, your nephew, Alpha Klaus, has arrived on packlands."

Lucas straightened, his face briefly softening. "Fine. I'll be there shortly," he barked, sending the man away.

The footsteps outside receded, and his dark gaze swung back to me. I was shaking, pressing myself into the door like it could swallow me whole.

My voice wavered, desperate. "Please, Alpha Lucas. Don't... please!"

"You can go for now," he said, his tone dangerously calm. "But don't forget, you wear my mark now. Once I've welcomed my dear nephew, I'll claim you completely. Keep that in mind."

"Please!" I begged, my voice breaking. "Don't do this to me! I'll do anything... just don't!"

The sharp sting of his slap cut me off. Snapping my head to the side, I gasped, clutching my cheek as my vision blurred from the impact.

"You should be grateful I'm taking you as mine! A wolfless thing like you has no value," he hissed. "Defy me again, and I'll throw you to the unmated males. They'll take turns with you until there's nothing left!"

His words settled over me like a suffocating fog. I nodded weakly, fear wrapping itself around me like a second skin.

"Get out!" he barked.

I didn't wait for a second command. Gathering the shredded remains of my dress, I bolted from his office, stumbling down the stairs and out of the house, my chest heaving with suppressed sobs.

The journey back to my hut was a blur of shadows and terror. I avoided the open paths and stuck to the edges of the packlands, darting behind trees and abandoned structures, desperate and praying no one would see me.

My flimsy hut offered little comfort, but it was the only place I could hide. As I slammed the weak door shut, I collapsed to the floor, my body racked with uncontrollable sobs.

"Goddess," I whispered through my tears, staring up at the cracked ceiling. "What did I do to deserve this? Why is my life like this? Please help me!"

I cried until my body gave out, exhaustion fully pulling me under into sleep.

The next morning, the weight of the world pressed on me as I dressed in my cleanest but worn-out dress. My reflection in the cracked mirror was a cruel reminder of my reality. My face was pale, my cheek still red where his hand had landed.

Pulling my messy hair into a tight bun, I forced myself to stand tall.

"You won't cry today," I whispered to myself. "No matter what they say, you're not weak. You'll survive this."

With that, I stepped out of the hut and into the judging stares of the pack. Everywhere I went, whispers followed.

"She's such a disgrace," someone muttered loudly. "Selling herself to the Alpha like that."

"She should have been shot like her father," another voice chimed in, dripping with malice.

I kept walking, my head high, even as their words tore at me.

My steps led me to the Alpha's residence, where I headed straight to the kitchen. When I entered, the Omegas fell silent, the disdain in their eyes unmistakable.

"Did you hear?" one of them whispered to another. "Alpha Klaus is staying for a while. He's so handsome! Whoever his mate is, she's the luckiest woman alive."

"Maybe he'll take over the pack," another Omega giggled. "Alpha Lucas has no sons, and his daughters are Omegas. Alpha Klaus would be perfect."

Their words barely registered as the head chef barked orders. "Tyla, take the breakfast trays to the dining hall. The rest of you, help her!"

I gripped the tray, my fingers trembling as if the weight of it alone might crush me. Each step I took felt like walking into the jaws of a beast. The dining hall loomed ahead, its double doors yawning open to reveal a crowd already seated.

As I stepped through, the world seemed to pause. Silence swept across the room like a suffocating wave, followed quickly by the sharp sting of murmured whispers.

"That's her... the Alpha's new toy."

Their words pierced through me, each syllable sharp and cutting. My chest tightened, shame coiling like a serpent around my heart. I didn't dare lift my gaze. I could feel their eyes drilling into me, dissecting me, judging me. My legs felt like they would give out at any moment, but I forced myself forward, one step at a time.

The head table was an imposing sight. At its center sat Alpha Lucas, his presence smug and commanding. He lounged in his chair like a king, his piercing black eyes gleaming with satisfaction. But it wasn't him who sent a jolt of unease through me.

No, it was the man seated beside him.

His eyes, a stormy gray, locked onto mine, their intensity freezing me in place. They held a blend of emotions—anger, disbelief, and something I couldn't quite name. He was strikingly handsome in a way that felt almost unnatural: broad-shouldered, impossibly tall, with a powerful aura that exuded dominance. His presence filled the room, suffocating and magnetic all at once.

I couldn't tear my gaze away. The world around us seemed to vanish, leaving only his piercing eyes and the silent, unspoken tension crackling in the air.

My breath hitched as I placed the tray down in front of Alpha Lucas, willing my hands to stop shaking.

Suddenly, the man's voice cut through the silence, low and furious. "What is this?"

His tone thundered, reverberating through the hall as his hand slammed down on the table. The sound was like a gunshot, jolting everyone into stunned silence. The room froze. Every head turned toward him, their whispers silenced in an instant.

"Klaus," Lucas said, his voice dangerously calm, yet the subtle clench of his jaw betrayed his annoyance. "What are you talking about?"

Klaus—his name matched the strength he radiated—didn't look at his uncle. His piercing gaze remained fixed on me, now burning with a fury that seemed to unravel me entirely.

"Her," he spat, his voice thick with anger. "She's my mate."

Gasps rippled through the room like a stone thrown into still water. My heart stopped.

His mate? Me? Tyla, the wolfless, had a mate?

His words slammed into me like a physical blow, leaving me reeling. Mates were sacred—a bond forged by fate, unbreakable and undeniable. But I felt nothing. No famous pull like the mated wolves always talked about. Apart from his handsome features that caught my attention like they did everyone else's, I felt no recognition of this man before me. A mate's presence was supposed to ignite a fire in your soul, but my wolfless existence left me in the dark. All I felt now was confusion, and then shame.

As the murmurs intensified, Klaus's voice cracked slightly, though the anger in it remained. "How is this possible? Why can't she feel the bond? And why..." His voice broke again, and he clenched his fists, his knuckles whitening. "Why is she already marked by you, Uncle?"

His words crushed me. My knees wobbled, threatening to give out beneath me. The mark. I raised a trembling hand to my neck, as if to hide the evidence of Lucas's claim. My shame felt like a brand searing into my skin.

Alpha Lucas's expression darkened, but he kept his composure, his voice oozing with false sympathy. "Klaus, you misunderstands," he said smoothly. "She came to me wolfless and desperate, begging for my protection. She was lost, broken. I took pity on her. She asked me to claim her, and I obliged."

"No!" I choked out, my voice barely audible but laced with desperation. "That's not true!"

"Enough!" Klaus's voice cut through mine, sharp and unwavering. His gaze, now icy and devoid of the confusion it once held, pierced me like a blade. "I won't accept this. A wolfless mate is one thing," he said coldly, his words deliberate and cutting. "But one already defiled—and by my uncle, of all people? No."

The world crumbled around me as his words landed like blows to my chest. Each one was a dagger, carving away at the fragile hope I didn't even realize I'd been clinging to. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Not here, not in front of them.

Klaus's expression was resolute, his tone final as he spoke the words that would sever the bond forever. "I, Klaus Blackthorne of the Blackstone Pack, reject you—" He paused. "What's your name?" he barked, and I flinched.

"Tyla Cross," I answered, my voice choked with tears.

"Fine," he said before continuing. "I, Klaus Blackthorne of the Blackstone Pack, reject you, Tyla Cross of the Silver Fang Pack, as my mate."

The power behind his declaration resonated through the hall, sealing my fate. The bond that should have united us shattered—and I still felt nothing. Nothing but pure humiliation.

My body trembled under the weight of his rejection, not because it affected me physically or spiritually, but because it felt like even the Goddess herself had rejected me now.

Gasps echoed around us. The whispers resumed—a cacophony of judgment and disbelief. I barely registered them. My legs buckled, but I clutched the edge of the table, forcing myself to remain standing. I wouldn't fall—not here, not in front of them.

Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill, but I blinked them back with all the strength I could muster. If I let them see me cry, I would be handing them my last shred of dignity.