CHAPTER 3- CLAIMED BY THE ALPHA
1068 Words
(Evelyn’s POV)
The door creaked open at dawn.
I’d barely slept. Every time my eyes closed, I saw claws, blood, and those burning gold eyes. My body was stiff from curling against the wall all night, refusing to sink into the enormous bed that wasn’t mine. When the hinges groaned, my whole body jerked.
I looked up with my tired eyes.
Two men stepped inside. At least, they looked like men until I saw their eyes.
One had pale hair cut close to his skull, a jagged scar splitting his brow.
The other was broader, and he had tattoos crawling up his neck like vines.
Their eyes glowed faintly—wolf eyes.
“Come,” Scar said. His voice was clipped, like he didn’t waste words on people who didn’t matter.
I pressed my back to the wall.
“No.”
I said trying to put up an unphased act—I was failing miserably.
Tattoo’s lip curled, a low growl vibrating from his chest.
It did not sound human nor did it sound natural. My skin prickled with goosebumps.
Scar stepped forward.
“You’ll meet the Alpha now.”
He said beckoning to me.
“The Alpha?” My laugh came out too high, too brittle.
“You mean your cult leader? Hard pass.”
Tattoo moved fast—too fast. He grabbed my arm, yanking me upright before I could scream. My body collided with his chest, and the rumble of his growl sank straight into my bones.
“Let me go!” I shouted, thrashing.
“Help! Somebody help me!”
Scar shot him a look, and Tattoo loosened his grip just enough for me to stumble forward.
“Walk.”
I glared at both of them, but my legs moved anyway. I wasn’t stupid. I’d seen what wolves could do.
They led me through the Keep, and with every step, I realized how wrong I’d been the night before. This wasn’t just a big house. This was a fortress.
Stone corridors stretched endlessly, their ceilings so high they disappeared into shadow. Iron sconces lined the walls, torches spitting light across faded tapestries of snarling wolves and moons. The air smelled faintly of smoke, pine, and something richer—like fur, musk, and earth. I shivered, hugging my arms around myself.
And then the voices started.
Low at first, like a distant hum. But as we walked, they grew louder, sharper—hundreds of them.
Scar shoved open a set of double doors, and sound slammed into me.
The hall beyond was massive, its vaulted ceiling supported by black timber beams carved with runes I couldn’t read.
Chandeliers dripped candlelight across long wooden tables where men and women sat shoulder to shoulder.
But these weren’t just people. Their eyes gleamed unnaturally bright, their movements too sharp, too controlled.
Wolves.
All of them turned when I entered.
The weight of their stares was suffocating. Whispers rippled down the tables like fire on dry grass. Some sneered, others smirked, and a few looked openly disgusted.
Scar and Tattoo pushed me forward until I stood at the center of the hall.
Alone.
At the far end, on a raised platform, sat he.
Ronan
Dressed this time in black leather and steel, he looked like he’d been carved to rule this place. His posture was lazy, one arm draped along the back of his chair, but his eyes—those damn eyes—were sharp as blades, fixed on me.
A hush fell. The air itself seemed to bend toward him.
“Alpha,” Scar said, bowing his head. “She’s here.”
Ronan didn’t look at him. He looked at me.
“Evelyn Hart,” he said, my name rolling off his tongue like he owned it.
A chill skated down my spine. “Don’t say my name like that.”
How does he even know my name?
A murmur rippled through the wolves, amusement and outrage blending. My cheeks burned hot.
Ronan’s lips twitched. “You stand in my hall. Among my pack. Do you know what that means?”
“That I’ve been kidnapped by lunatics?”
A growl rose from the tables. It was low at first, then layered, dozens of voices vibrating the air. My knees trembled, but I forced myself to lift my chin.
Ronan raised one hand, and the sound died instantly. His control over them was terrifying.
“It means,” he said softly, “you are no longer prey. You are mine. My mate. My Luna.”
Gasps. Whispers. A few wolves snarled in open protest.
My heart stopped.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
His gaze locked onto me like chains.
“The bond has chosen you to be my fated one. The future Queen of this pack.”
I stared at him, horror and disbelief tangling in my chest.
“You’re insane. I’m not your anything. I don’t even believe in any of this!”
The hall erupted—snarls, laughter, curses. One woman with sleek black hair shot to her feet, slamming her hands on the table.
“She’s human!” she spat. “Weak. Useless. She’ll get us killed!”
Others barked agreement. The noise rose like a storm.
Ronan stood.
The room fell silent.
He descended the steps slowly, each one echoing through the hall, his eyes never leaving mine. When he reached me, I had to tilt my head back to keep staring, and I hated how small that made me feel.
He leaned in, his voice low but carrying enough for every wolf to hear.
“She’s mine. Anyone who questions that questions me.”
Silence. Tense. Crackling.
Then one by one, the wolves lowered their eyes. Submission.
The woman who’d shouted sat down hard, her face pale with fury.
Ronan straightened, his hand brushing against my arm like it belonged there. My skin burned under the touch.
“You don’t get to decide this,” I hissed, my voice shaking.
“I’m not yours.”
His eyes glowed brighter.
“You’ll learn.”
My stomach twisted. Fear. Rage. And something else I didn’t want to name.
Because as much as I hated him, as much as I wanted to scream and fight and claw my way out of this nightmare—
A traitorous part of me felt the truth in his words.
And that terrified me most of all.
- Writer
