Hated By The Alpha Bound To Me

Chapter 3 - Under His Rule

The doors stood open, and there was no mistaking what waited beyond them.

Elara slowed as she stepped inside, the change immediate. The air felt heavier here, trapping sound instead of letting it carry naturally, while the sheer size of the space pressed inward in a way the clearing outside never had.

Thorne entered first, and Elara followed a step behind him. The doors closed quietly at her back, the sound echoing through the room long enough to leave a sense of finality settling over her skin.

Whatever had begun outside followed her in.

Dark banners carrying the Draegon crest hung from the high stone walls while low firelight stretched long shadows across the polished floor. The center of the room remained completely open, forcing attention toward anyone standing there.

The council waited ahead.

Most stood with unreadable expressions as their attention shifted toward her, though one figure remained seated while the others kept their distance around him.

Age touched him more visibly than the rest, silver threading through the dark hair near his temples, yet authority surrounded him effortlessly. Unlike the others who examined her openly, his attention lingered with patient calculation that unsettled her immediately.

Valric.

Even in Valamere, wolves lowered their voices when speaking his name.

His gaze remained fixed on her a moment longer before another council member stepped forward.

“You understand why you are here.”

Elara lifted her chin slightly.

“I do.”

A broader man moved beside him, his expression colder, his stare carrying far less restraint.

“Then understand your position clearly.”

Silence spread through the room as his gaze traveled over her.

“You stand here to secure peace between Valamere and Draegon. The conflict between both territories ends with this bond.”

Another council member stepped forward almost immediately after.

“You will also produce an heir. One capable of carrying both bloodlines forward.”

The reaction hit instantly.

A violent pulse tore through the bond hard enough to steal part of Elara’s breath, and behind her, Thorne moved. The scrape of claws against stone cut through the room before silence crashed down again.

Several council members straightened immediately.

Elara turned slightly before she could stop herself.

A few feet behind her, Thorne stood rigid, tension radiating from him heavily enough to thicken the air. His expression remained unreadable, though anger simmered beneath the surface now, colder and far more dangerous than the disgust he had shown earlier.

“Elaborate on that expectation,” he said quietly.

The calmness in his voice tightened the atmosphere instantly.

One council member frowned. “The expectation was already made clear.”

“Then explain why it sounded like an order rather than a discussion.”

The shift in the room felt immediate because nobody had expected resistance from him.

Confusion mixed with the anger already twisting inside Elara’s chest as she watched the exchange unfold.

Thorne never wanted this. That much had become obvious from the moment the bond formed, yet this reaction carried far more weight than simple resentment.

Throughout the exchange, Valric remained silent.

Unlike the others, surprise never crossed his face. His attention moved slowly between Elara and Thorne, thoughtful enough to leave unease curling beneath her skin.

“The continuation of both bloodlines remains necessary,” Valric said at last.

His voice carried less force than the others, though somehow it commanded more attention.

“Whether either of you welcomes it changes nothing.”

Silence followed again while pressure continued building inside the room before another council member finally turned back toward Elara.

“You were chosen because your bloodline produces strength,” he said. “Your role within Draegon territory is to reinforce stability, secure peace, and carry the Luna title appropriately.”

Another voice followed immediately after.

“You will respect Draegon law. You will respect your Alpha, and you will act according to the authority placed above you.”

Every word tightened around Elara steadily, another expectation locking itself into place around a future she no longer controlled.

Once, she had imagined bonds differently, shaped by trust, choice, and belonging, but nothing inside this room resembled any of it.

Anger rose beneath her composure as the realization settled harder inside her chest.

The wolves standing before her had already shaped every part of her future without asking what she wanted from it.

Then another memory surfaced.

Draven.

Her brother’s face flashed through her mind alongside the image of blood soaking through dark sheets and the terrible stillness that followed after they found him.

Draven had been killed inside Valamere territory.

Inside his own room.

The future Alpha of their pack had died in his sleep while wolves sworn to protect him guarded the halls outside.

No signs of forced entry had ever been discovered.

No explanation had ever made sense.

Elara lifted her gaze toward the council.

“You speak about loyalty and peace,” she said carefully, “yet my brother was murdered while wolves on both sides discussed alliance and territory agreements behind closed doors.”

Silence spread instantly through the room, and this time the atmosphere changed completely.

Several council members exchanged brief glances while one looked irritated and another suddenly seemed cautious.

Thorne’s reaction caught her attention most.

For the first time since entering the room, his expression shifted completely as recognition flickered across his face, almost as though Draven’s death meant something to him personally.

Elara noticed it immediately.

So did Valric.

The older wolf leaned forward slightly, studying her now with far greater interest than before.

“Draven’s death was investigated thoroughly,” one council member finally replied.

The answer sounded practiced.

Carefully measured.

“And somehow no one saw anything,” Elara replied.

Her voice hardened slightly.

“The future Alpha of Valamere was murdered in his own bed, and the only answer we received was silence.”

“That matter remains closed,” another council member answered firmly.

Frustration burned hotter inside her chest.

Closed for them perhaps.

Never for her.

Behind her, the tension surrounding Thorne still had not eased, and questions pressed harder against Elara now because the council clearly wanted them buried while every answer somehow seemed tied to him.

Valric finally rose from his chair, and the movement alone shifted the atmosphere inside the room.

“You will learn quickly,” he said, his gaze fixed steadily on Elara, “that survival inside Draegon territory depends on understanding which truths deserve pursuit.”

The warning beneath his calm words came through clearly enough for Elara to understand immediately.

What unsettled her more was the realization that Valric seemed less concerned about her asking questions and far more interested in how far she intended to go searching for answers.

Firelight flickered across the stone walls while tension coiled tightly through the room, weaving between the council, the bond, and the growing suspicion pressing harder inside Elara’s chest.

She had entered Draegon territory expecting hostility.

What she found instead felt far more dangerous.

Secrets.

And every wolf standing inside this room seemed determined to keep them buried.