Chapter Five
1079 Words
Alisha’s Pov
The sound of boots against stone made my breath hitch.
I sat curled up in the corner of my cell, my arms wrapped around my legs. The cold had long since settled into my bones, making itself at home like an unwelcome guest. My head ached from exhaustion, my limbs stiff from lack of movement. I hadn’t been given food or water since my capture, and my body was starting to feel the effects of it.
But none of that mattered now.
Because I could hear him coming.
Mikhail.
His presence was something I could feel even before I saw him. The air grew heavy, thick with an energy that made my pulse quicken. The scrape of the dungeon door opening echoed through the chamber, and then…
He was there.
Mikhail stood just beyond the bars, his expression unreadable. His piercing eyes locked onto me, unreadable and cold.
For a long moment, he didn’t speak. Neither did I.
Of course, I couldn’t.
But even if I had my voice, I wasn’t sure what I would have said.
His eyes flickered over me, taking in my slumped form, my ragged dress, the bruises blooming along my skin from where I had fallen in the forest.
He didn’t care.
"You’re coming with me," he finally said, his tone flat.
I blinked up at him, startled.
For a moment, I thought I had imagined it.
Then the sound of keys jingling met my ears, and I realized he was serious.
Was he… letting me out?
I barely had time to process before the cell door swung open. The hinges groaned in protest, but I didn’t move. I simply stared at him, my mind racing.
Was this a trick?
Was he finally going to kill me?
When I made no move, his jaw tightened, impatience flashing in his eyes. "Get up."
Still, I hesitated.
His lips curled in frustration.
And then—before I could react—he was stepping forward, reaching down, and grabbing my arm.
A spark shot through my skin at the contact, the mate bond roaring to life in an instant. It wasn’t the comforting warmth I had once dreamed of—it was fire. A searing, burning heat that made my breath hitch.
Mikhail must have felt it too because his grip on my arm tightened for a fraction of a second before he released me like I had burned him.
His scowl deepened.
"Move," he ordered, voice laced with something I couldn’t name.
Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet, my legs unsteady beneath me.
He turned and strode out of the cell without another word.
I had no choice but to follow.
The dungeon hallway was lined with warriors, all of them watching me with a mixture of curiosity and contempt.
Whispers followed me.
"The mute girl."
"A cursed mate."
"She’s weak."
I kept my eyes down, focusing on each step. I had learned long ago that looking too long at people only gave them more reasons to hate me.
And then, we stepped outside.
The sudden burst of light made me blink rapidly, my eyes adjusting to the late afternoon sun.
The packhouse loomed before me—tall, intimidating, grand.
It should have been home.
It wasn’t.
Mikhail came to a stop at the entrance, his broad shoulders stiff as he turned to face me.
"You’ll be staying here," he said, gesturing toward a smaller building attached to the main house.
I frowned.
That… wasn’t the main living quarters.
It wasn’t even close.
It was the servants’ quarters.
A low murmur spread through the gathered pack members. They were watching, waiting.
Mikhail’s expression didn’t waver.
"You are not my mate," he stated coldly. "You are a burden. And I will not have you living under my roof like you belong here."
A sharp sting shot through my chest, but I didn’t let it show.
I should have expected this.
Still, it hurt.
But before I could react, another voice cut through the tension.
"You’re being a bastard, you know that?"
I turned my head to see a man stepping forward, arms crossed, expression unimpressed.
Kieran.
I had heard of him before. He was Mikhail’s Beta—the only one who didn’t look at me with outright disdain.
Mikhail shot him a warning glare. "Not now, Kieran."
Kieran ignored him. "You’re seriously throwing your mate into the servants’ quarters? You do realize how bad that looks, right?"
"It doesn’t matter how it looks."
Kieran let out a low whistle. "Wow. You really are trying to set a new record for worst mate in history, huh?"
A few pack members gasped at his audacity, but Kieran didn’t seem to care. He turned his attention to me. "And you’re just going to take this?"
I blinked at him.
Did I have a choice?
Kieran’s jaw ticked. "You are unbelievable," he muttered before turning back to Mikhail. "You do know rejecting her isn’t going to be as easy as you think, right? You felt the bond. I know you did."
Mikhail’s entire body tensed.
For the first time, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something dangerous.
"You should watch your mouth, Kieran," he said, voice low.
Kieran smirked. "Or what? You’ll throw me in the servants’ quarters too?"
A muscle in Mikhail’s jaw twitched.
Kieran stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Dimitri is out there."
Silence.
Mikhail didn’t react.
But I saw it—the way his shoulders stiffened. The way his fingers curled into fists at his sides.
Kieran pressed on. "You know it’s him. The attacks, the rumors—it’s not just some rogue faction. It’s him."
Mikhail’s expression remained unreadable. "That doesn’t change anything."
Kieran scoffed. "Doesn’t it? Because I think it changes a lot. And if you weren’t so busy trying to push away the one person the Goddess actually gave you, maybe you’d see that."
Mikhail didn’t answer.
For a long moment, no one did.
Then—
A sharp, piercing howl ripped through the air.
The sound sent a chill down my spine.
It was followed by another.
And another.
A wave of tension rippled through the gathered pack members.
"Alpha," one of the warriors called, urgency lacing his voice. "We’re under attack!"
The world around me blurred.
Chaos erupted.
Mikhail spun toward the sound, his entire body going rigid.
My heart pounded.
Dimitri.
The other man in my dream.
He was here.
And he had come for war.
- Writer
