The Alpha’s Traded Mate のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Zeva’s POV The stone floor was cold beneath me, its chill biting through the thin fabric of my dress as I sat in the vast, dimly lit quarters of Alpha Darian Kaelith. The silence here was deafening, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire in the hearth. For nearly an hour I waited, my thoughts circling like vultures. Why had he dragged me here after rejecting me so publicly?My heart still ached from the sting of that cruel moment in the hall. His words — “you’re nothing but an omega” — gnawed at me like a wound that refused to close. Leah whimpered in the back of my mind, restless and angry.“We are not weak, Zeva. We are not worthless.”I straightened my spine despite the weight pressing down on me. I wouldn’t cower, not here. Not anymore.The heavy doors creaked open, snapping me from my thoughts. Darian entered first, tall and commanding in his dark ceremonial attire, his expression carved from ice. Thalyn swept in beside him, smugness dripping from every step. Elder Ma

Aric’s POV The northern winds still clung to my cloak as I paced the length of the council chamber, boots striking the obsidian floors like war drums. Garrick leaned against the carved wolf pillar, arms crossed, his usual mask of indifference covering the storm brewing in his eyes. Across from me, High Seer Malrik sat motionless, those cursed silver eyes glittering like moonlit daggers.“I’ve already given my answer,” I growled, voice low but laced with enough venom to send lesser wolves trembling. “I will not be shackled. Not to a mate. And certainly not to a whimpering omega who will break before the first winter.”Malrik’s mouth curled into something between a smile and a sneer. “This is not about shackles, Alpha Aric. This is about legacy.”I stilled, my hand tightening around the edge of the stone table until cracks spread beneath my grip. Legacy. That word had haunted me since the day I first claimed the northern throne bathed in blood and fire. The north demanded strength, not

Zeva’s POVThe Northern Packhouse was colder than any winter storm I’d ever lived through.Not because of the temperature—though the stone floors were icy enough to numb my toes—but because the air felt hollow. Like warmth didn’t survive long here. Like it was a place built for power, not people.Roxie walked two steps ahead of me, her boots striking sharp, unforgiving echoes across the long hallway. She didn’t slow down. Didn’t look back. Didn’t bother to soften her voice when she finally spoke.“Rule one,” she said brusquely. “You don’t wander. Not inside, not outside. You stay where you’re placed unless the Alpha or I tell you otherwise.”I nodded, though she wasn’t looking at me.“Rule two. You don’t address the Alpha unless he asks you a direct question.”My breath hitched—because I remembered the bond that hit me earlier like a lightning strike. I remembered the way he glared at me like I was a stain on his territory, a mistake, an inconvenience. The memory made my chest tighten

Zeva’s POVI slammed the door behind me and sank against it, letting my body tremble under the weight of what had just happened. The Council Hall still echoed in my mind—the whispered gasps, the cold stares, the way Aric had looked at me, as if I were nothing more than a tool. My knees still throbbed where they had pressed against the stone floor, where I had knelt as commanded, stripped of dignity in front of the entire pack.I wanted to sink into the mattress and disappear. But I couldn’t. Not here. Not now. Not ever, if I wanted to survive.The knock on the door startled me, sharp and unwelcome. Roxie pushed it open with an air of superiority that made my skin crawl.“Clothes,” she said, tossing a bundle onto the floor with more force than necessary. “Food. Try not to choke on it, omega girl.”The words pricked like a blade. I’d been called many things in my life—weak, unwanted, broken—but the venom in her voice made the term feel sharper. Deliberate. Designed to remind me of my p

Zeva’s POVThey say the Northern Packhouse has no warm rooms. No places that feel safe. No corners untouched by power or fear.I once thought it was an exaggeration.Now I know better.Word travels fast here—faster than breath, sharper than claws. By dawn, everyone already knows.The new breeder bride will face the readiness test.A tradition meant to determine if she’s physically, mentally, and “instinctively compliant” enough to bear the Alpha’s heir.Me.It means me.I hear the whispers as I walk through the corridors with my head down, the way Roxie trained me.“Poor thing. She won’t survive it.”“Aric has broken stronger women.”“She’ll faint before they even touch her.”“She’s pretty. A shame she won’t last.”Every word slices deeper than claws.By the time Roxie finds me, I’ve repeated the same silent mantra a hundred times:Don’t react. Don’t show weakness. Don’t give them what they want.Roxie stops before me, arms crossed, expression dripping with triumph.“Training room. No