7: Warning
1698 Words
ARIANA
The car door slammed shut behind us, and before I could adjust myself properly, I was being dumped into the leather seat like a sack of grain. I cried out softly as my back slammed against the cushion, pain rippling across every inch of my skin.
Troye didn’t glance at me.
He sat beside me, his jaw tight and his face turned to the window, as if just being near me was punishment enough. He reached into the inner pocket of his dark jacket, pulled out a sleek white cloth, and began wiping his hands—slow, firm strokes like he was trying to scrub off something foul.
I sat stiffly, breathing through the pain, doing my best not to cry again. But inside, a storm was raging.
He had saved me.
He had held me.
And now… now I was just filth on his hands.
“You will never,” Troye began suddenly, his voice low and sharp, “give me a reason to come find you like that again.”
I blinked at him, confused. “What?”
He turned his head, grey eyes slicing into me like ice. “Don’t play dumb. I’m serious. If something like this happens again—if I have to step in and clean up a mess tied to you—I won’t be this civil about it.”
I blinked, the words sinking in slowly.
“I didn’t call for help,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. “You showed up on your own.”
He stilled for a second, and then let out a cold chuckle. “Is that your way of showing gratitude?”
I looked away, cheeks burning.
“Of course not,” he said before I could respond, “but I expect nothing more from the daughter of my ex-beta. My former best friend. The man who stabbed me in the back.”
His words stung, but I said nothing.
“Don’t worry about saying thank you,” he continued, folding the cloth and tossing it onto the car’s dashboard. “Do me a favor instead.”
I looked at him again. “What favor?”
He turned fully toward me now, his expression unreadable. “You’re going to be seen as the pack’s future Luna soon. That means everything you do will reflect on me. Every rumour, every argument, every public embarrassment—it’ll all come back to me. And I don’t want to be linked to childish drama, Ariana. I don’t have the patience for it.”
I frowned. “That wasn’t on purpose. I didn’t start it. Rue dragged me away and tied me up. She beat me. That wasn’t some petty argument—”
“Sure it wasn’t,” he cut in flatly. “Let me guess. You two were fighting over Vlad?”
“What?” I gaped at him. “No! Why would I fight over Vlad? I have nothing to do with him anymore.”
He scoffed. “Spare me the bullshit. I know how these little stories go. Girl gets dumped. Girl fights the new favourite. It’s boring. Immature. Messy. And it makes me look like a fool for being attached to you, even if it’s only by fate.”
“That’s not what happened,” I snapped, louder than I intended. “I don’t want Vlad. I’m not in love with him.”
Troye’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he tilted his head. “Are you sure about that?”
I stared at him, my jaw clenched. “Yes. I’m sure.”
He leaned back in his seat, still watching me, like he didn’t quite believe me but didn’t care enough to push further.
“Good,” he said finally, his voice clipped.
“I don’t know why the moon goddess thought pairing me with you would make sense,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than me. “Of all people…”
My stomach twisted at that.
I wanted to tell him I didn’t ask for this. That I didn’t want him either. That I’d give anything to break the bond and disappear. But I bit down hard on my tongue and kept it all inside.
He didn’t want to hear that.
“I don’t love him anymore.” I repeated
Troye stared at me for a moment after I insisted I didn’t love Vlad anymore. His eyes narrowed just slightly, then he gave a small shrug and leaned back against the leather seat.
“Not that I care,” he said dryly. “But it’s a good thing. Makes everything a lot less weird.”
He didn’t look at me again after that. He just went quiet, pulling his phone from his pocket and scrolling through it like I didn’t even exist beside him.
I didn’t say another word either.
But inside, my thoughts wouldn’t stop.
Is this how it’s going to be?
Rough. Cold. Tense silences followed by cutting remarks?
Even after all that had just happened—being dragged and beaten nearly to death—he still made me feel like the guilty one. Like I’d embarrassed him by existing.
I turned my head to the window, letting the soft afternoon light wash over my sore face. The pain in my back still pulsed beneath my skin, and every bump in the road sent little shocks through me. I didn’t complain. I didn’t flinch.
Troye hadn’t asked how I ended up like that. He hadn’t even explained how he knew where to find me. I still had no idea who sent him or why he came.
I doubted it was out of concern.
He wasn’t the kind of man who rushed to save someone out of kindness.
Still, the questions sat heavy on my tongue, but I knew better than to ask them.
I wasn’t in a position to press him.
Instead, my thoughts wandered to my siblings.
To Evan.
To Ana and Elia.
We used to lie on the thin mat in our room and whisper about how everything would change once Vlad made me his Luna. How we’d move into the palace. How Ana and Elia would get to eat real meals. How Evan would finally rest.
But now I was the only one going there.
And it wasn’t because of love. It wasn’t a fairy-tale.
It was a curse. A bond I didn’t ask for.
I bit down on my lip, hesitating for a long while before I finally gathered the courage to speak again.
“Um… will I be allowed to visit my siblings?”
Troye didn’t look up from his phone. “What?”
“My siblings,” I repeated gently. “I know you said they can’t live in the palace, but… could I at least visit them? Or maybe let them come around sometimes?”
He finally lowered his phone and turned his head slightly toward me. “You’re free to visit them. I don’t care what you do outside the palace… as long as you don’t get caught up in any more stupid dramas.”
I nodded quickly. “Thank you.”
There was a pause.
“You’re not going to cry again, are you?” he asked, glancing at me.
I shook my head, blinking away the tears that were already threatening to fall.
“No,” I whispered. “I won’t.”
He didn’t respond. Just went back to his phone like the conversation never happened.
When the car finally rolled through the tall gates of the palace, I sat up a little straighter despite the pain.
The sight was as overwhelming as the first time—tall marble walls, golden details gleaming in the fading sun, guards posted everywhere in pristine uniforms.
It was beautiful.
Intimidating.
And nothing like home.
The car stopped in the circular driveway, and a footman rushed forward to open the door.
Troye stepped out first, adjusting his jacket as if he’d just come back from a casual walk—not from saving his mate from a brutal flogging.
I followed slowly, my legs weak beneath me. I winced as I stepped out and straightened up, forcing myself not to look broken even though my body felt like it was falling apart.
I barely had time to adjust my grip on the door when I saw her.
She was standing just beyond the steps, her hands folded neatly in front of her, waiting.
Tall. Elegant. Radiant.
Her deep blue dress hugged every perfect curve of her body, and her dark curls were pinned back in a sleek style that made her cheekbones look sharp enough to cut glass.
Her eyes locked on me the second I stepped out.
She didn’t say a word.
She didn’t have to.
The glare she gave me could’ve burned holes in my skin.
It was his mistress, Aria.
The one who probably filled his nights. The one who likely walked these halls freely. The one who had no curse chaining her to him but was still far closer to him than I would ever be.
She turned to Troye, her expression instantly softening. “You’re back,” she said in a silky voice. “We were worried. I didn’t expect you to leave without telling me.”
“I didn’t plan to,” Troye said simply, his voice much calmer now. “Something came up.”
Her eyes flicked to me again.
And this time, her smile was sharp.
“Ah. I see.”
I stood there awkwardly, my bundle of belongings still clutched tightly in my arms, unsure if I was supposed to walk beside him or follow behind.
I chose silence.
Troye didn’t introduce me. Didn’t spare me another glance.
He just nodded to the guards and started walking toward the entrance, the mistress falling into step beside him, chatting softly.
I limped after them.
This was my life now.
Not the palace of my dreams.
Not the love I once longed for.
Just silent halls, evil glares, and a man who hated being tied to me.
I hadn’t even unpacked yet.
And I already knew—
My life here was going to be a nightmare.
- Writer
