CHAPTER FOUR:Chains And Crown
1608 Words
***VERA***
The metal clamped hard against my wrists, cold and merciless. Each rattle of the chain was like a taunt.
“Why am I being held?” I demanded, stumbling forward as two guards yanked me toward the pack house. My voice cracked, but not from fear—at least, I told myself it wasn’t fear.
They didn’t bother answering. One of them tightened the manacle, and I bit down on my lip as the iron dug deeper into my skin. My wolf whimpered faintly inside me, too weak to help.
“Oh, so now I’m a criminal? You’re going to bind me because I dared to stand up for myself?” I twisted in their grip, glaring at the soldiers. “Because I fought back against a group of spoiled girls who cornered me? That makes me the crazy one?”
The taller guard tossed me over his shoulder like I was nothing more than a sack of grain. The world tilted, and I stared upside-down at the dirt path as we moved.
“Let go of me!” I thrashed, wriggling against his back, but he was solid as a mountain. My stomach churned with every step.
“The Alpha said you’re to be held,” he finally answered, his voice flat. “He called you his breeder.”
The word cracked like a whip.
Breeder.
I froze, my breath hitching. “In other words,” I spat, “his s*x slave. Is your Alpha that desperate? Didn’t he just claim a Luna? My sister, no less! And he thinks I’ll agree to—” I broke off with a bitter laugh. “Not in any lifetime.”
“You don’t have a choice, miss.” The other guard didn’t even look at me as he spoke. His tone was apologetic, but no less firm.
I stared at the ground swinging beneath me, and all I saw was red. If I ever got my hands on a dagger and the goddess granted me a single chance, I would bury it in Blake’s chest without hesitation.
They carried me through the towering gates of the pack house. The scent of pine and stone should have been comforting—it was home once. But now it reeked of power and cruelty.
Inside, the air shifted to lavender oil and polished wood. Blake’s maids swarmed me, their hands soft but mechanical as they stripped away the dirt of the scuffle. They scrubbed my skin, dressed me in silks that weren’t mine, painted me like a doll. My wrists remained shackled the whole time, iron cutting into the illusion of glamour.
It was obscene—dressing me up like a prize while the chains clinked with every movement.
Tricia. My chest ached at the thought of her. Did she even know? If she found out that Blake had locked me up, dressed me like this… would she defend me, or would she smile and look away because she was Luna now?
The maids tried to curl my hair, but I jerked my head aside. “Stop. Enough.” My voice broke, louder this time. “I want to speak to the Alpha directly.”
One of them froze, brush in hand. The others glanced at each other like startled deer.
“Do not touch me again,” I snarled, my patience gone.
The head maid cleared her throat softly. “I’m sorry, miss, but the Alpha is currently in a meeting with the Alpha of Fur Croft. He’ll attend to you afterward.”
Attend. As if I were a guest. As if I hadn’t been dragged here in chains.
“Attend to me,” I scoffed. “You mean try to bed me. Let’s not sugarcoat this. Untie me! You’re holding me against my will—doesn’t anyone in this cursed house know what rights are?”
The head maid’s eyes flickered, just for a moment, with something that looked a lot like sympathy. “Under other circumstances, perhaps. But when the Alpha orders…” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “Everyone obeys.”
My wrists throbbed, swollen under the iron. I lifted them toward her, voice quieter now, desperate. “They’re cutting into me. Do you want me dead before I even meet him?”
The maid hesitated, then sighed, nodding at a guard. Reluctantly, he unlocked the cuffs around my hands, though my ankles stayed bound. The relief was instant, pins and needles shooting through my fingers.
“It isn’t wise to free a slave,” the guard muttered. “She’ll try to escape.”
Slave. The word made bile rise in my throat.
Before I could reply, the air shifted. A hush fell.
“Special demands,” one maid whispered, bowing her head. “The Alpha is here.”
The room stiffened. Spines straightened. Faces became masks.
And then he entered.
Alpha Blake.
His presence filled the chamber like smoke, heavy and suffocating. His eyes found me immediately, and a slow smile curled his lips.
“Ah, Vera,” he purred, stepping closer. “Darling Vera. Ever so innocent.”
His hand slid down my collarbone, tracing lower, and I flinched back. My skin crawled under his touch. Rage flared hot and uncontainable—I spat in his face.
Gasps rippled through the room.
One of the guards surged forward, hand raised to strike me, but Blake lifted a finger. “Enough.”
He wiped his cheek with infuriating calm, then held out his hand. A maid rushed a cloth into his palm. He cleaned himself slowly, then pressed the damp rag against my lips, forcing it inside.
“Your first act of service,” he murmured. “Get used to it.”
The guards released my chains and shoved me to my feet. My knees shook, but I forced myself upright, refusing to cower.
They shoved a jug into my hands and guided me behind him into the great hall.
The moment I entered, smoke choked my lungs. Thick, pungent, clinging to my hair and clothes. The hall was grand—polished tables, carved beams, silver goblets—but it felt like a gilded cage.
Two packs sat across from each other. Blake’s men lounged like they owned the room. Opposite them, the Alpha of Fur Croft and his entourage sat straight-backed, silent, assessing.
I lowered my head as the head maid had instructed and moved from table to table, pouring drinks. The chains around my ankles clinked softly with each step.
But I felt it. A stare. Heavy. Sharp. Pinning me in place.
When I dared to glance up, my heart stumbled.
Eyes. Icy blue, glinting in the haze. Familiar. The same eyes I had seen watching me from the trees before.
And they were locked on me.
He smiled, slow and deliberate. My stomach flipped.
Alpha Conry.
The air seemed to crackle as he leaned forward, voice deep and calm. “Let’s get this discussion started. I want to purchase the small packland between our borders.”
My hands trembled slightly as I poured. His voice rolled over me like thunder—commanding, dangerous, yet strangely steadying.
“That pack isn’t for sale,” Blake said smoothly.
“Why not?” Conry’s gaze didn’t shift from me, not once.
Blake smirked, lounging back. “Because it was entrusted to me. Not everything can be bought.”
“You put it up for trade, Blake.” Conry’s voice hardened, though his eyes never left mine. “Quit lying and name your price.”
“Twice the market value,” Blake sneered.
“I’ll pay the market value.”
“Twice.”
The tension coiled tight, like a bowstring ready to snap. My pulse hammered in my throat.
Then Conry’s words cut through the smoke like a blade.
“I’ll pay twice… if she comes with it.”
Silence. Every head turned.
My heart stopped.
Please, goddess. Not me.
But his hand lifted, and he pointed. Directly at me.
“She?” Blake chuckled, tilting his head. “Conry, you’ve got terrible taste. She’s hardly worth a copper. She was to be one of my playthings.” His sneer made my skin crawl. “I could give you someone prettier.”
For the first time, I didn’t resist the thought. If it meant leaving Blake’s shadow, I would gladly be sold to a stranger.
Conry’s expression didn’t shift. “I don’t want prettier. I want her.”
The room held its breath.
Blake studied him, then burst into laughter. “Fine. Why am I arguing? She’s yours.”
A scroll was placed before them. Conry signed without hesitation.
My hands trembled as realization settled in. I wasn’t free. But I was no longer Blake’s.
Conry looked at me fully now, his eyes burning. “What’s your name, little one?”
I froze. “Me?”
A glass shattered against the wall beside my head, exploding shards at my feet.
“Of course he’s talking to you,” Blake barked.
Conry’s voice sliced across his like steel. “Blake.” Calm, but edged with warning. “She is mine now. If you lay a hand on her, you insult me. And I don’t forgive insults.”
The room stilled. Blake’s lips thinned, but he leaned back in silence.
Conry returned his gaze to me. His voice softened, but his eyes still pinned me. “Your name, Diva?”
The word curled around me like smoke.
“Vera,” I whispered, forcing strength into my tone. “Vera Stormborn.”
His lips curved into something that made my pulse jump.
“Quite delicate,” he murmured.
- Writer
