Chapter Seventeen
1166 Words
Maya’s POV
Ulric enrages me.
First, he buys me like a doll.
Then he convinces me I am his equal.
And just as I start to believe him… he reminds me exactly how much control he has, making sure I understand that I am beneath him.
He is such a hypocrite.
He is so… aggravating.
He smells so good.
His hands are so warm.
My breath catches as I remember the way he touched me earlier. Before I can stop myself, my hands slip between my thighs as the memory replays in my head.
My traitorous body reacting to a man I am not even sure I trust.
Footsteps entering the dining room snap me out of my thoughts.
I quickly pull my hands away.
I am still wearing my night dress.
It’s Ulric.
His eyes immediately darken.
“Maya… where are your clothes?” he asks sharply.
“What do you mean? I'm eating my cereal,” I say casually, shoving a spoonful of Frooty Puffs into my mouth.
“You cannot sit here like that,” his voice rises. “Not dressed like that, Maya.”
“Why not?” I ask, crunching loudly. “This is my house too, isn't it? And it's not like you haven't seen me in less than this.”
Sarcasm drips from every word.
His jaw tightens.
Before I can react, he grabs my arm and pulls me out of the chair. I stumble slightly as he drags me toward the hallway. I resist just enough to make a point, but his grip is firm and unyielding.
Alpha strength.
We reach his bedroom and he pushes the door open, guiding me inside.
“Maya,” he says through clenched teeth. “Do not make me repeat myself. Get dressed.”
His eyes darken almost to black.
Instead of backing down, I step toward him. Slowly. Deliberately.
I run my fingers through his hair and lean toward his ear.
“No,” I whisper. “I was eating.”
My heart pounds.
Who does he think he is?
He asks me to marry him. I agree. Then he sends me mixed signals.
Am I his fiancée…
Or his property?
His hand tightens slightly on my waist.
“Maya,” he whispers, his voice dangerous now. “You are going to be very, very sorry. My father is here. Get. Dressed.”
My stomach drops.
“Oh s**t. Why didn't you start with that?”
Panic replaces defiance instantly.
I rush toward the closet.
I know Ulric sent someone to fetch my things from my parents' house. I saw my bags in my old room earlier… before he decided, without asking me, that I would now be sleeping in his room.
I open the closet.
Nothing looks familiar.
I freeze.
He notices immediately.
Without a word he moves past me, grabbing a white lace bra, matching panties, a T-shirt and jeans.
He throws each item onto the bed as he picks them.
“Here. Wear this. Quickly,” he orders. “I will meet you in my study.”
His voice softens slightly.
“Do not speak too much. Do not disrespect him. And whatever he says… do not argue. We will deal with it privately afterward.”
Then, unexpectedly, he presses a quick kiss to my forehead.
The gesture throws me off balance more than his anger did.
Then he is gone.
I quickly put on the clothes he left and twist my hair into a messy bun.
I rush into the ensuite bathroom and find a bag of brand-new toiletries waiting for me.
Toothbrush. Face wash. Everything.
Prepared.
For me.
I grab the toothbrush, fumbling with the packaging and barely brushing properly in my rush.
Once I am done, I stare at myself in the mirror.
Take a deep breath.
Then another.
I leave the room and make my way toward Ulric’s office.
My heart is pounding again.
I am about to meet my future father-in-law.
And something tells me this is not going to be a pleasant meeting.
I step into Ulric’s study. My hands are shaking, but I force them to stay still.
A familiar figure sits in his chair, his presence radiating authority, while Ulric stands slightly to the side, neither in front of him nor behind him.
“Ah, this is the girl,” his father speaks, voice sharp.
Ulric opens his mouth to respond, but I gather my courage and step forward.
“Hello, Alpha Wolfhart. I am Maya Reynolds.” I hold out my hand to shake his.
I am the future Luna. I will be respectful—but I will not be humble. We. Are. Equal. I tell myself, steadying my breathing.
He seems taken aback. But he leans in, shaking my hand firmly. I notice Ulric shift slightly, uncomfortable, watching his father touch me.
“Well done. You have balls, little Luna,” he smirks.
“This one is fiery, Ulric. This is dangerous.” His expression sharpens.
“She is chosen, Father. Not by me—by the Moon Goddess,” Ulric says, his voice steady, commanding.
“Well then, I assume she has been informed?” His gaze lands on me. Eerie. Piercing.
“No. We have not had an opportunity to speak. She hasn’t even had any training. We should at least give it another week, Alpha,” Ulric pleads quietly.
I step forward, cutting in before he can continue.
“Um… excuse me? Can someone fill me in?” I say, carefully measured, projecting calm.
Ulric shoots me a look that could kill.
“Ah, she doesn’t need any training, Ulric. She carries herself well. She does need to learn some self-control and obedience. But that will sort itself out. I trust you have the discipline under control?” His eyes go straight to Ulric.
“Father, she cannot go without preparation,” Ulric protests.
“Enough!” Alpha Wolfhart slams his hands onto the table.
“A week, Ulric. You will wed her in a week. I don’t care what happens in between, but in a week, she will be our Luna.” His gaze shifts to me, sharp as a blade.
Ulric remains still.
I take a quiet, steadying breath. I know this is a test. Every gesture, every word, is being judged.
I step forward deliberately, chin up, voice even and clear.
“Alpha, I will be ready in a week. You will not be disappointed.” I smile, small but confident.
His eyes linger on me for a moment—something darker than satisfaction. Respect? Possibly. Control? Definitely.
“Now that, is what obedience looks like. You chose well, son. It has been a pleasure, Miss Reynolds. I will see you in a week.”
He rises and exits the room.
Ulric exhales, visibly relieved.
I turn to him, letting a fraction of my frustration slip through.
“Why the f**k did you not come tell me about this?” I whisper,
- Writer
