The Alpha’s Captive Heiress

CHAPTER3

Ash and Iron

Damien

The smell of wood smoke and ash wouldn't leave my skin.

I stood at the sink in my private quarters, the water running scalding hot as I scrubbed my hands for the third time. The expensive wool coat I’d worn in the forest lay in a shredded, bloody heap on the tile floor, completely ruined. I could care less about it. What I cared was the fact that her scent was still clinging to my palms, burning its way into my senses.

Beneath my ribs, my wolf clawed at my consciousness, a restless, roaring beast that paced the perimeter of my mind. Mate, the animal snarled, demanding I turn around, walk down the eastern corridor, and rip the steel door off its hinges to get to her. Protect. Claim.

"Silence," I muttered aloud, gripping the edges of the marble sink until the stone groaned under my weight.

I slammed a mental wall down on the beast, crushing the instinct with absolute force. Fated mate or not, she was an Ashbourne. The bloodline that had slaughtered half my pack twenty years ago before my father finally purged them from the valley. Her ancestors had left this kingdom bleeding, and the universe expected me to accept her as my equal? My Queen?

It was a sick joke.

A sharp knock at the heavy oak door broke the silence.

"Enter," I commanded, turning off the tap.

Vance stepped into the room, his expression tightly controlled but his eyes tense. As my Beta, he could feel the residual waves of my anger rolling through the link.

"The perimeter is secure" Vance said, keeping his hands crossed behind his back. "The rogue's carcass has been moved to the labs for autopsy. But the council is already asking questions about the intruder you brought in."

"Let them ask," I said, grabbing a towel and drying my hands with sharp, brutal movements.

"They know she’s a wolf, Damien," Vance pressed, dropping the formal title as he took a step closer. "They smelled the blood in the ravine. If the pack finds out you are harboring a rogue on Veylor land after issuing an execution order.."

"She isn't a rogue," I cut him off, my voice dropping into an icy register.

Vance paused, his brow furrowing. "Then what is she?"

"She’s an Ashbourne."

The color drained from Vance's face. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Twenty years ago, he had been a child, but everyone in the mountain fortress knew the horror attached to that name.

"They were all terminated," Vance whispered, his gaze instinctively darting toward the eastern wing of the compound where she was locked away. "The bloodline was broken."

"Apparently, my father missed one," I said, walking past him into my study. "And there is something else. She bears the Moon Mark."

Vance gasped, his already pale complexion turning ghostly.

"Damien... if the council hears of this, it will trigger a mutiny. They will see her presence as a threat to our survival. They will demand her execution before the sun rises."

"Which is why no one outside of this room will know what she is," I commanded, letting my authority bleed into the air. The pressure in the room spiked, forcing Vance to lower his head in deference. "To the pack, she is a high-value prisoner of war. She is leverage against whoever is manipulating the rogue wolves on our borders. That is the official narrative. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Alpha," Vance murmured, his jaw tight.

"Leave me."

He bowed his head and retreated, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.

Once alone, I walked over to the reinforced glass window of my study, looking out over the dark, jagged peaks of the mountain. A mile away, the lights of the guard towers cut through the mist, but my eyes were drawn to the lower balcony of the eastern wing.

Beneath my skin, the wolf flared up again, whining this time, a pathetic, submissive sound that disgusted me. The animal wanted her. It didn't care about history, or politics, or the bones of our ancestors buried in the valley below. It just wanted the female that matched its soul.

I dug my fingernails into my palms, drawing a thin line of silver blood to force the beast back into submission. I would not be ruled by an ancient biological curse.

I walked over to my desk and swiped my hand across the digital interface, pulling up the classified historical archives from the year of the purge. The screen illuminated my face with a harsh, blue light as columns of old bloodline charts appeared.

Aria Ashbourne.

She had been a child when her family tried to burn this kingdom to the ground. She didn't even seem to know what she was, or how to control the raw power I had felt vibrating in the forest. But she was here now.

I stared at the glowing digital file, my jaw clenching. I would keep her locked in that cage until I uncovered the truth about her survival and the rogue army brewing in the shadows. I would use her as a weapon, a shield, or bait, whatever it took to protect my kingdom.

Whatever game fate thought it was playing, I intended to win.

And Aria Ashbourne was about to learn that nobody survived by becoming my enemy.