Chapter 6

Nyla

Three weeks had passed since that fateful day when my father handed Dominic the keys to my life. Each morning, I woke hoping it had all been a dream, that the Moons or the pack elders would step in and stop the madness. But each day only confirmed the harsh reality: nothing had changed.

Then, one evening, my mother approached me with her usual quiet hesitance, her hands trembling slightly as she clutched a folded letter.

“Nyla… a date has been set,” she said softly, avoiding my gaze. “The wedding… it’s in one week.”

My stomach dropped, and a cold dread spread through me. I felt my knees weaken as if the world itself were trying to push me down. I staggered toward the sink, dry heaving, bile rising in my throat. I wished, desperately, that I could wake from this nightmare. That the papers, the preparations, the looming ceremony—all of it—was a cruel illusion. But my mother’s worried face, pale and etched with lines of fatigue, told me it was all too real.

“They say it’s for your protection,” she added in a whisper, as if speaking louder would shatter her own hope. “Dominic… he’ll make sure you are safe.”

Safe. The word felt hollow. Safe from what? From my father’s weakness? From Margaret’s manipulation? From a life I never chose?

I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the panic that clawed at my chest. And then I thought of Dominic.

Dominic. He wasn’t like the others—the cold, selfish men who treated women as trophies or pawns. He had been deliberate, calm, measured. Even in this absurd arrangement, he had respected my space, prepared a sanctuary for me, refused to take advantage of the situation. He had a power that didn’t need to intimidate, a strength that didn’t demand submission. It both terrified me and, strangely, gave me hope.

Still… hope was a dangerous luxury in this house. In this pack. In this family.

A knock at my door pulled me from my thoughts. My mother’s soft voice followed. “It’s time, Nyla. You need to begin preparations.”

I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself. I had no choice, at least not yet. I would have to walk into this nightmare, face Dominic, face my family, and endure the scrutiny of the pack.

I dressed in silence, each garment feeling heavier than the last. The soft fabric of the dress was suffocating, as though the threads themselves were holding me hostage. My reflection in the mirror startled me. The girl staring back was pale, anxious, and trembling—but she was still me. She had survived every step so far, and she would survive this too.

When I finally descended the stairs, the mansion seemed colder than ever, its halls echoing with the weight of expectation. Dominic stood in the foyer, his posture rigid, expression unreadable. His eyes met mine, and I felt a flicker of reassurance. He was here, steady as a mountain, a silent guardian in a world that had offered me none.

“Are you ready?” he asked quietly, his voice low, controlled, but not unkind.

I wanted to say no. I wanted to scream, run, vanish into the night. But instead, I nodded, forcing my lips into a neutral line. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I murmured.

Dominic’s gaze softened just enough to let me see the man beneath the weight of responsibility—a man who would protect, even if he couldn’t change the circumstances.

The carriage waited outside, horses pawing at the cobblestones. The Moons, the elders, and the pack had all been notified. There would be witnesses. There would be judgment. And I would have to stand through it all.

As I stepped forward, every fiber of my being screamed to resist, to escape, to fight—but I reminded myself that endurance was a form of strength too. And in that moment, I made a silent vow: I would not let this forced union define me. I would survive. I would endure. And when the time came, I would reclaim the life that had been stolen.

Dominic’s hand brushed mine as he guided me to the carriage. It was a simple gesture, almost imperceptible—but it anchored me. Not as a lover, not as an owner, but as someone who understood the precarious balance of this moment.

This wedding would not break me.

It could test me. It could challenge me. But it would not destroy me.

And deep down, in the quiet, terrified corners of my heart, a single thought persisted: Dominic was not my enemy.