Mated to My Enemy

Chapter 4

The great hall of the Bluerock Pack glowed with golden light. Long wooden tables stretched from end to end, covered with roasted meat, sweet fruits, and freshly baked bread. Candles flickered in iron holders, their flames dancing as if alive. The air was thick with the smell of food and the hum of voices. Laughter and clinking cups echoed, but beneath it all there was tension, like the calm before a storm.

I sat near the center, my hands folded in my lap. My chair felt too big, the table too wide, and the eyes on me too heavy. Every glance, every whisper, seemed aimed at me. Some wolves looked at me with curiosity, others with suspicion, and some with envy. I kept my chin up, pretending to be calm, but inside my heart beat fast and uneven.

This was not just a feast. It was a test.

Kaelrik sat at the head of the table, his silver eyes sharp, scanning the room. He looked powerful, like a king carved from stone. On his right sat Maelrik, quieter but no less watchful, his calm face hiding thoughts I could not guess. Together, the brothers looked like shadows of the same storm—one thunder, one silence.

And me? I was the stranger sitting in their world.

The food on my plate sat untouched. I could barely swallow with so many people staring. I felt their eyes burn into me, as if they were asking, What is she doing here? Why her?

My fingers tightened on the edge of the table. I wanted to shrink, to disappear, but then I remembered who I was. Teresa Blackwood. I had already survived too much—pain, betrayal, rejection. I would not break here, not in front of them.

So I lifted my cup, pretending my hand did not shake, and took a sip of the sweet wine. The liquid burned down my throat, forcing me to stay grounded.

“You’re quiet,” Maelrik said softly, his calm voice drawing my eyes to him.

“I’m watching,” I answered, trying to sound braver than I felt.

His lips curved slightly, as if he was pleased with my answer. “Good. Only fools speak too much before they understand the game.”

The word game made me stiffen. Because that’s what this was. A game of power. A game where I was either a piece to be played—or a prize to be won.

Kaelrik leaned forward, his gaze pinning me. “Do not fear them, Teresa,” he said in a voice that carried across the table. “If you are meant to stand by my side, then let them see your strength.”

His words sent a ripple through the hall. Some wolves bowed their heads slightly, as if already accepting me. Others stiffened, their whispers turning sharp. My cheeks warmed, but I forced myself not to look down.

Strength. That was what Kaelrik demanded. That was what this feast demanded.

A loud cheer rose as more meat was brought in. The hall filled with laughter again, but my chest still felt tight. Every time I glanced up, I caught someone staring at me. A young she-wolf with golden hair whispered into her friend’s ear, her eyes darting toward me with something between anger and jealousy. An older wolf with scars across his face watched me as if measuring my worth.

I clenched my fists under the table.

Then the music began.

Drums pounded, low and deep, while flutes carried sharp notes into the air. Wolves stood and clapped, some dancing between the tables. The hall transformed into a storm of sound and movement. Yet even in the noise, I felt the weight of expectation pressing down on me.

Suddenly, a wolf rose from his seat at the far end of the hall. His voice cut through the music, sharp and cold.

“Why her?” he demanded.

The room fell silent.

All eyes turned to him. He was tall and broad, his dark hair tied back, his jaw hard as stone. His eyes glowed faintly gold, the mark of his wolf pushing close to the surface. His voice carried power, but more than that, it carried challenge.

“She is not of our pack,” he continued, pointing a finger at me. “She has no bloodline here, no strength proven, no bond to us. Why should she sit among us as if she belongs?”

My chest tightened. My throat felt dry. Dozens of eyes now burned into me, waiting for an answer, waiting to see if I would crumble.

Kaelrik rose slowly, his chair scraping against the floor. His silver eyes glowed like fire under moonlight. “Because I chose her,” he said, his voice cold and final.

A ripple of shock moved through the hall.

The challenger’s lips curled. “A choice that could destroy us. Have you forgotten what she is? Forgotten her rejection, her weakness?”

The word weakness stabbed into me like a blade. My fists shook in my lap.

But before Kaelrik could respond, I stood. My legs trembled, but I forced myself to meet the wolf’s golden eyes.

“I am not weak,” I said, my voice clear though my heart pounded painfully in my chest. “I have suffered, yes. I have been broken. But I rose again. And if that makes me unworthy to sit here, then perhaps none of you truly understand strength.”

The hall went still.

The golden-eyed wolf’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. The silence stretched, heavy and tense. Then Kaelrik’s lips curved into the faintest smile, and pride flickered in his eyes.

“Enough,” Kaelrik declared, his voice cutting through the air like steel. “She has spoken. And she has proven she belongs.”

The music returned slowly, though the whispers never truly stopped. I sat down again, my body shaking from the effort it had taken to stand against him. But I had done it. For the first time, I had raised my voice.

Kaelrik’s hand brushed against mine under the table, so quick and subtle no one else saw it. A spark shot through me, and I turned my head toward him. His gaze softened for just a moment.

But that moment was shattered when the doors of the hall slammed open.

The music stopped.

The laughter died.

Cold wind swept into the room, snuffing out several candles. The scent of night and danger filled the air.

And there, framed in the doorway, stood a man I thought I would never see again.

My breath caught.

Axel.

The wolf who had once been my mate. The wolf who had destroyed me.

And from the dark smile on his lips, I knew he had come to claim something.

Or someone.