Hated and His to Claim

IVY "Someone! Help!" My voice, already raw, ripped from my throat. "Please!" No answer came. My screams crumbled into broken sobs. "Please, the room is on fire! This door only opens from the outside! My mother, my mother is sick! She can’t breathe! Please!" I turned back to her, lying motionless on the charred mattress, her head drooping, her chest barely rising. Smoke coiled around her like a noose made of shadow, waiting for its final pull. "No, no!" I rushed to her side and grabbed her arms, dragging her from the flames that had started licking at the hem of her gown. Her body, thin and brittle from weeks of illness, sagged heavy in my grip. My tears fell without pause, stinging as they met the smoke clinging to my face. Why now? Was this really how we were going to die? After everything she had endured, after all the strength she had shown, all the grace she had clung to even when the world stripped her bare? They had stolen her dignity, those who once bowed and called her Luna. She was the rightful daughter of the late Alpha. She should have ruled with honor. But instead, she had been discarded like trash. My father, her own mate, betrayed her, ripped the title from her name, and dragged us both into a life of quiet chains. And now we would die in a room that was never meant for anything but silence and suffering. I clutched her tightly, the words tumbling out of me between gasps. "I’m sorry, Mama. I’m so sorry I can’t protect you." Then I heard it. Footsteps. Heavy and fast. Boots pounding the corridor floor like war drums coming closer and closer. I jerked toward the sound. My heart surged with hope. Someone had come. I sprang to the door again, pounding harder, my voice rising with desperation. "Help! We’re in here! The fire, my mother, please!" The door exploded open with a deafening slam, throwing me backward. I hit the floor hard, the impact shaking through my bones. Blinking through the thick smoke, I saw a tall figure step into the room, his shadow stretching across the wall like some nightmare summoned by the flames. It wasn’t a savior. It was a man I knew—a guard from the packhouse. But something was different now. Gone was the blank, bored look. In its place was a smile, sharp and crooked, the kind that belonged to someone who enjoyed cruelty. "Well, well," he said, voice slick with venom. "So this is the Moon Goddess's last little spark. Ivy Hunt." My blood turned to ice. He knew my name, and from the look in his eyes, that only made things worse. I saw the silver whip in his hand, its tip stained fresh with blood. Everything in me screamed to run, to hide, to fight. But I couldn’t. My mother lay behind me, barely clinging to life. "Stay away from us," I said. My voice shook, but I forced the words out. I swallowed the fear clawing at my throat. "If Alpha Hunt finds out you tried to harm his heiress, he won’t spare you. He’ll destroy you." The guard threw back his head and laughed, the sound hollow and cruel. "Alpha Hunt?" he scoffed. "You mean the coward who’s currently running for his life?" I froze. What? "What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice cracking around the question. He stepped closer, whip flicking with every movement. "Your glorious Alpha ran off with his precious Luna and darling daughter. Disappeared the moment the Mancini war broke out. Left his people to burn." The ground beneath me vanished. A war? I didn’t even know there was a war. I had been locked in this cursed room for weeks. Rage surged up through the sorrow, lighting a fire in my chest fiercer than the one eating the walls. "Then why are you here?" I demanded, my voice breaking with fury. "Why not go fight the real enemies? The ones in mansions, with guards and silver spoons. I have nothing. Nothing but scars. Gold flows in their veins. Mine’s already dry. What’s the point of hurting me?" He stepped in again, closer. But before he could speak, a gunshot cracked through the air. His body jerked like a puppet cut from its strings and crashed to the floor. A pool of blood spread beneath him, red and silent. I stared, stunned. Behind him stood another man dressed entirely in black, a pistol still smoking in his hand. His eyes were like shards of ice, cold and calculating. He didn’t even glance at me—just lowered the weapon, as if shooting someone was routine. "Thank you, mister," I gasped, hurrying to my mother’s side. "Please, if you can help me—" "Alpha Vladimir," came a voice from behind him. Another man, also in black, stepped into the room and bowed low. Alpha... Vladimir? No. That name felt like a nightmare, one whispered in stories meant to keep pups obedient. It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t. I turned toward the man who had fired the gun, my heart pounding in my throat. Tall. Commanding. Every inch of him radiated authority. And power. The kind that didn’t ask—it took. My blood turned to ice. Alpha Vladimir. The ruthless leader of the Mancini Pack. The name mothers used when they wanted their young to behave. The monster people swore didn’t exist because the truth was too terrifying to face. He looked at me the way one might look at something rotting in the sun—disgust etched into every line of his face. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the floor. "Please," I whispered, my voice a fragile thing. "Don’t hurt us. We’ve done nothing." He didn’t so much as blink before turning to the man beside him. "Take both of them." "No! Please!" I cried, lurching forward on my hands and knees. "Not her—she’s sick. She won’t survive the journey!" Tears blurred my vision, but I spoke through them, desperate and determined. "Take me instead. I’ll work, I’ll clean, I’ll serve you however you want. Just don’t take her. She needs help. She needs rest. She won’t make it." He stopped. I held my breath so tightly it hurt. And then, in the next heartbeat, he was in front of me. I didn’t see him move. He was just there, sudden as a thunderclap. A gust of cold air brushed past as his hand gripped my chin—firm, unforgiving. His touch was fire against my smoke-stained skin, and yet I didn’t dare flinch. He tilted my head upward, forcing my eyes to meet his. And that was when I saw it—his gaze, like the ocean caught in a storm. Wild and brutal. Deep enough to drown in. But somewhere beneath the fury, there was something else. Something silent. Something I couldn’t name. My breath hitched. My chest rose and fell in quick waves. Fear gripped me. But there was something more. Something tangled and foreign, curling beneath my ribs and making my heart stutter. This was no man—this was a force of nature wrapped in skin and bone. His fingers pressed harder, the tingling from his grip trailing down my spine like sparks from a live wire. And for a moment, something flickered in his eyes. But it was gone before I could understand it. He leaned in just enough for his voice to slide through the smoke and settle cold in my ear. "You will do as I say."​