Chapter 1

LYRA

The guards won't let me leave, and I've been throwing myself against the door for the past hour until my shoulder aches and my hands are raw.

I should have run yesterday when I had the chance, but I was stupid enough to believe my father when he said this marriage would save our pack. Now I'm trapped in this room that smells like pine and leather and something else I can't name, while my new husband does whatever he wants somewhere in this massive house without me.

My wedding dress is still on, and the lace scratches against my skin every time I move. I want to rip it off, but that would mean accepting that this day actually happened, and I'm not ready to do that yet. The makeup on my face is ruined from crying, and I catch my reflection in the mirror across the room. I look like a mess, but I don't care anymore.

The ceremony was three hours ago, and I can still hear Alpha Rowan's voice in my head when he leaned close after we exchanged vows. You belong to me now. No one else. His breath was warm against my ear, and his hand gripped my waist so tight I thought he might leave bruises. Everyone in the room probably thought he was whispering something sweet to his new bride, but I knew better.

I walk back to the window for the tenth time and press my hands against the glass. We're on the third floor, and there's no way down unless I want to break both my legs. The forest stretches out beyond the lawn, and I can see the border where his pack lands meet mine. My old pack. I'm not part of them anymore, according to the law and the elders who witnessed my father sign me away like I was nothing more than a piece of property.

The door opens behind me, and I spin around expecting to see Rowan, but it's just a woman carrying a tray of food. She's older than me, with gray streaks in her dark hair, and she won't meet my eyes as she sets the tray down on the small table near the bed.

"I need to leave," I say, but my voice comes out weak and shaky.

She shakes her head and walks toward the door without saying anything.

"Please," I call after her. "Just tell me where he is."

She pauses with her hand on the doorknob and finally looks at me. Her expression is blank, but I see something flash in her eyes that might be pity. "The Alpha doesn't want to be disturbed. You should eat and rest."

Then she's gone, and I hear the lock click into place again.

I grab the tray and throw it across the room. The plate shatters against the wall, and soup splatters everywhere, but it doesn't make me feel any better. I sink down onto the floor with my back against the bed and pull my knees to my chest. This can't be my life now. It can't be.

My father's words from last night echo in my mind. You're doing this for everyone, Lyra. For your brother. For your mother. For every member of our pack who will suffer if we don't have Alpha Rowan's protection. He didn't say for me. He never does.

The Blackwood pack has been weak ever since the attacks started six months ago. We lost twelve wolves, including our best fighters, and my father was desperate for a solution. When Alpha Rowan offered an alliance in exchange for a bride, I thought he would choose one of the other unmated females in our pack. Someone who actually wanted to marry the most feared Alpha in the region. But he chose me, and my father agreed without even asking what I wanted.

I hear footsteps in the hallway, and I scramble to my feet. The lock turns, and the door swings open. Rowan stands in the doorway looking exactly the same as he did at the ceremony, except he's taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. His dark eyes scan the room and land on the broken plate and the mess I made on the wall.

"Throwing tantrums already?" he says, and his voice is calm, but there's an edge to it that makes my stomach twist.

"I'm not staying here," I tell him, even though we both know I don't have a choice.

He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. The space suddenly feels smaller with him in it. He's tall and broad, and everything about him radiates power and control. I should be attracted to him because he's technically my mate now, but all I feel is anger and fear.

"You are staying here," he says. "You're my wife."

"I'm your prisoner," I shoot back.

He moves closer, and I want to back away, but I force myself to stand my ground. His hand reaches out, and I flinch, but he just brushes a strand of hair away from my face. The gesture is almost gentle, but his eyes are cold.

"You can make this easy, or you can make this hard," he says. "Either way, the outcome is the same. You belong to me, and you'll do what I say, when I say it."

My hands curl into fists at my sides. "Why did you even want to marry me? You could have any woman you want."

Something flickers across his face, but it's gone before I can figure out what it means. "Because you're useful to me," he says simply. "Your pack needs protection, and I need a wife to secure my claim as Alpha. It's a practical arrangement."

"That's all this is to you?" I say. "Practical?"

He leans in close enough that I can smell the scent of woods and smoke on him. "What else would it be?"

I don't have an answer for that, so I just glare at him.

He pulls back and walks toward the door. "Clean up this mess. Tomorrow you'll start learning what's expected of you as Luna of this pack."

"And if I refuse?"

He looks over his shoulder at me, and the smile that crosses his face makes my blood run cold. "Then I'll make you wish you hadn't."

The door closes behind him, and I hear the lock again. I stand there in the middle of the ruined room with my heart pounding and my hands shaking. I need to find a way out of here before tomorrow comes, but as I look around at the locked door and the windows too high to jump from, I realize that escape might not be possible.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at nothing. Hours pass, or maybe just minutes. Time feels strange in this room.

The door opens again, and I don't even look up at first because I assume it's the same woman from before. But then I hear a male voice that's different from Rowan's.

"Luna mustn't be hungry."

I lift my head and see a young man standing in the doorway holding a tray of food. He's stunning in a way that makes me forget to breathe for a second. Dark hair like Rowan's. Same strong jaw. Same tall build. But his eyes are lighter, and there's something about his face that's softer, even though the resemblance is clear enough that he must be related.

He walks into the room without waiting for permission and sets the tray down on the table. His movements are smooth and confident, and when he turns to look at me, there's a glint in his eyes that makes my skin prickle with awareness.

"You must be starving," he says and gestures to the food. "Please, eat."

I should tell him to leave. I should remember everything Rowan said about doing what I'm told and not causing trouble. But something about this man makes all those warnings scatter from my mind like leaves in the wind.

"Who are you?" I ask.

He smiles and sits down in the chair across from me without breaking eye contact. "Does it matter?"

But when he stands, I notice the silver key dangling from his hand.

“Eat fast, Luna,” he whispers, eyes flicking to the locked door. “You’ve got ten minutes before he comes back.”