Chapter 7

Danielle’s POV

My heart stops for a second as I stare at the cup of tea in front of me, half-finished and almost forgotten in an instant as Rhett's words reverberate in my head.

"You are mine.”

I stay still in my spot with my fist tightened, thinking about the tone with which he said it, and then I watch him perk up to his feet, moving a few feet away from me.

The urge to throw the cup at him from behind is almost overwhelming, as I stare at him with hatred burning in my veins.

For some reason, he stays rigid and refuses to speak as he has his back turned against me, letting the silence fill up the spaces in our heads.

"I am not supposed to be here,” I say silently, breaking the silence between us as my memories flood up again with the thoughts of my family.

But then, he lifts his head now, turning to face me, "You are exactly where you are meant to be, Luna," he says, cutting me off as he smirks in pride.

"I am not your mate," I retort as his reference to me as his Luna disgusts me.

"You have no right to decide that," he says again, and the way he says it makes my stomach churn from disgust.

"You are cruel and selfish." I snap once again.

"I am honest and thoughtful," he replies almost immediately and continues, “Do you think cruel is claiming what is already mine?”

That statement, or should I call it a question, triggered something in me, something bitter and hateful and I can’t help the sudden feeling of relief from just staring into those damn eyes of his that I’m forced to look away.

"You demanded me, knowing fully well that I was married, you took me away from my pack, from my hus.... "

"Your husband?” he cuts in with what sounds like a growl as he glares at me.

"You call that useless wimp of an idiot your husband? The same man who paraded you as barren and made you feel like a burden he was forced to bear,”

His words hit me harder than I expected. It hurts because deep down, I know he’s not wrong.

He takes another step towards me as I watch him lower himself to my level, enough for my eyes to lock with his in the same direction.

"I don't take what is not mine, get that into your thick skull,” he says as he attempts to touch my forehead, but I push his hand away before I can even catch myself.

I can see that flash in his eyes again as he suddenly holds my neck, and pins me to the bed, his body weight resting on me, "Don't dare to challenge me, Danielle,” he says, his hairy chest heaving as he slows his breath.

"Then stop treating me like an object you own," I struggle to say as his hand tightens around my neck, and his face, a few inches away from mine as he stares directly at me.

Then he heaves a sigh, breathing heavily into my face as I inhale his breath, and says, "You have no idea what you are, no one does—-yet,”

That statement, for some reason, makes me a bit confused about what to think exactly of the whole situation.

But then, I restrain myself from responding any further. Instead, I stay curled up in bed, with both hands wrapped tightly around my thighs as I watch him walk away from me.

When I’m all alone, I perk up to my feet, wondering why the room now feels smaller than before, suffocating almost, like the walls are closing in with his scent still hanging in the air.

‘I can’t stay here, not another minute.’

I grab the edge of the wooden dresser to steady myself, brushing away the thin layer of dust that sticks to my fingers.

Every inch of this place screams of wealth and authority, yet for some reason, it feels so…empty and cold.

I step out into the hallway without any hesitation, the heavy door creaking behind me as I continue in my steps down the hallway.

The corridor stretches far and wide, lined with unfamiliar portraits of men and women with the same piercing eyes Rhett carries. His ancestors, no doubt. Men who probably believed everything in their path belonged to them, too.

As I trudge down in silence, I notice things I hadn’t before, the faint scent of lemon and cedar from freshly cleaned floors, the muffled chatter somewhere below, the shuffle of hurried footsteps.

For the first time, I realize how many people work here. Servants in crisp uniforms scurry through the hallways, each avoiding eye contact the second they notice me.

And slowly, I realize there are more of them than I ever saw in my ex-husband’s pack house. Cleaners, chauffeurs, maids, all moving with quiet discipline. Yet, none of them dares to meet my gaze long enough to acknowledge I’m real.

My bare feet pad softly against the marble floor as I move deeper into the mansion. The hallway in front of me opens into a wide gallery filled with golden drapes and crystal lights that catch the sun, scattering fragments of brightness everywhere. And I can’t help but stare at how beautiful it all is.

My thoughts in seconds drift again, unbidden, to Rhett’s words: You have no idea what you are.

‘What did he mean by that? What could I possibly be besides the woman he dragged from her life?’ I mutter to myself, and then I shake the thought away, pushing forward, desperate to find a door, a tunnel, any kind of escape.

My steps quicken as I turn a corner, too quickly, and just then, I bump hard into someone carrying a tray.

The world freezes for a heartbeat before the tray tips, and everything crashes down. A bowl of soup, a jug of sauce, and a plate of roasted meat all splatter across my front, dripping down my dress and onto the floor, creating a mess.

“Oh, my Luna!” The servant whom I’ve just bumped into gasps, her face pale as she falls to her knees. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me, I didn’t—”

I blink, stunned at her reaction, looking down at myself, soaked, sticky from the contents of the tray.

“Don’t call me that,” I mutter, my voice trembling as I try to wipe the mess from my arms. “I’m not your Luna.”

Her eyes widen further as she stares at me. “Please, if Alpha hears—”

But before she can finish, a heavy voice echoes from down the hall. “What’s going on here?”

I freeze.