Chapter 6

The word echoes in my skull like a death sentence.

*Mine.*

I can’t move. Can’t breathe. Can’t process what just happened.

Alpha Alistair Blackthorn, the monster who slaughtered my parents, the demon of the North, the man I’ve hated with every fiber of my being for years, just pointed at me and claimed me like I’m some kind of property.

The entire hall erupts into chaos.

“Absolutely not!” Donald’s voice cuts through the noise, sharp and furious. He steps forward, his face twisted with rage. “She’s my wife! You can’t just…”

“Can’t I?” Alistair’s voice is dangerously quiet, but it silences the room instantly.

He moves with predatory grace, each step deliberate and unhurried, until he’s standing directly in front of Donald. The size difference is staggering. Alistair towers over him, radiating power that makes even the strongest warriors in the room shift uncomfortably.

“You invited me here to form an alliance,” Alistair says, his tone conversational but laced with threat. “I accepted. And now I’m naming my price.”

Donald’s jaw clenches. “We can negotiate something else. Gold, territory, weapons…”

“I don’t want gold,” Alistair interrupts smoothly. His eyes flick to me, cold and assessing. “I want her.”

My stomach churns with disgust and terror.

Anna appears beside Donald, her hand sliding possessively onto his arm. She looks between us, and I see calculation flickering in her green eyes.

“Donald,” she whispers, loud enough for me to hear. “Maybe we should consider…”

“No!” Donald snaps, but I can see the hesitation creeping into his expression.

Anna leans closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “Think about it. This solves our problem perfectly. We wanted her gone anyway, right? And you get the alliance you need without having to wait for the inheritance period to end.”

I watch in horrified disbelief as Donald’s resistance crumbles.

“She’s *damaged goods* now anyway,” Anna continues, her voice saccharine sweet. “Wolfless, weak, and she just lost her baby. What use is she to you?”

Each word is a knife twisting in my chest.

Donald’s eyes meet mine, and for a brief moment, I think I see something, guilt maybe, or regret. But then his expression hardens into cold practicality.

“Fine,” he says, turning back to Alistair. “But there are conditions.”

Alistair raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Conditions?”

“We remain legally married for three months,” Donald says firmly. “That’s what the law requires for me to claim the inheritance. After that, you can have her.”

I feel like I’m drowning, watching two men negotiate over me like I’m livestock.

“No.” The word tears out of my throat before I can stop it. “I refuse!”

Everyone turns to look at me.

“I would rather die,” I hiss, my voice shaking with rage and terror, “than go anywhere with that murderer.”

Alistair’s gaze locks onto mine, and I feel the weight of it like a physical force. His eyes are ice-gray, cold and utterly devoid of mercy.

“Your preferences,” he says softly, “are irrelevant.”

“You killed my parents!” I scream, my control shattering completely. “You slaughtered them like animals! I will never, *never* submit to you!”

Something flickers across his face, too quick to read. Then it’s gone, replaced by that same cold mask.

“Three months,” Alistair says, turning back to Donald as if I haven’t spoken. “I can wait three months.”

Donald nods, relief flooding his features. “And after that?”

Alistair’s smile is cruel. “After that, she becomes mine completely. Not as a wife,” he clarifies, and my blood runs cold. “As a slave.”

The room goes deathly silent.

“She’ll serve in my territory,” Alistair continues calmly. “At my pleasure, for as long as I see fit.”

Anna’s eyes gleam with satisfaction. Donald looks almost giddy.

“Perfect,” Donald says quickly, before I can protest again. “We have a deal.”

“No!” I lunge forward, but guards grab my arms, holding me back. “You can’t do this! I won’t go!”

Alistair walks toward me with measured steps. I struggle violently against the guards, but I’m weak from everything I’ve endured, the dungeon, the forced termination, the starvation. I’m no match for them.

He stops directly in front of me, so close I can feel the heat radiating from his massive frame.

“You think you have a choice?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous.

“I’ll fight you,” I spit. “Every day, every moment. I’ll never stop fighting you.”

For the first time, something like interest sparks in those cold eyes.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I prefer my slaves with spirit. They’re more entertaining when they break.”

Terror floods through me, but I force myself to meet his gaze without flinching.

“I won’t break,” I whisper fiercely.

His smile widens, cruel and predatory. Then he turns to his guards.

“Take her to the carriage,” he orders. “We leave at dawn.”

The guards start dragging me away. I thrash and scream, clawing at them desperately.

“Wait!” I cry out. “Please, I can’t, I need more time…”

Alistair doesn’t even look back.

“If she resists…” he says casually, his voice carrying across the hall.

Everyone freezes.

He turns slowly, his eyes finding mine with terrifying intensity.

“Break her legs,” he finishes softly. “She doesn’t need them to serve me.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​