The Alpha Of My Ruins

Chapter 4

DAVINA’s POV

The Blackmoon hall stretched around me. Cold and evidently ancient, intricately carved from stone that swallowed the subtle glow of the golden lanterns hung on its arches. Embroideries woven with silver thread told the stories of their victories, and every blood-soaked history was stitched into every wall.

Elegantly dressed wolves filled the rows with long, decorated benches, warriors armored in steel, noble families dressed in furs that glowed with wealth. Their gazes were as sharp as daggers, some of them openly hostile, some curious, others eyeing with suspicion.

And at the center of it all, I stood in a gown that felt more like shackles than ivory silk.

My mind went back to the day before. The rush of leaving Silverfang Creek so suddenly, not even getting the chance to give my father one last glare before I was taken away. The rogues hadn’t caused as much destruction as I expected. But I wasn’t surprised. The Blackmoon pack had three times more weapons than we did—and an Alpha who only seemed to hunger for blood. To them, a rogue attack was nothing.

Memories of Rowan flooded me, his scent, his pull, a mocking contrast to the bond I shared with the man who ended him. The man whom I was about to be married to – if a wedding is what they call this, because this wasn’t a wedding.

It was a spectacle dressed up in silk decorations, meant to convince two packs that the wars they fought for decades were negligible and pretend that blades weren’t pressed against their throats.

Silver embroidery filled the upper half of the attire, curling from my neck to the waist and dragging on the floor, like vines meant to strangle. The skirt was infuriatingly heavy and long, I dragged with every step, hearing the sound of the hem against the stone floor as if it was conspiring to keep me here. My veil was delicate, but it pressed down on me like a raincloud.

Every part of my flesh was reeking with rebellion, yet I held myself tall, my chin raised and spine rigid. If they wanted me to be paraded like a trophy, at the very least, I would look untouchable.

And then there was him.

Xavier.

Alpha of Blackmoon. My would-be husband. My mate.

He stood across the altar, his frame broad and sharp like it was cut from stone, his shoulders draped in a black cloak. Storm-grey eyes fixed on me, hard and unyielding, as unreadable as a dark winter sky.

He was the one the Moon Goddess had bonded me to. The one my wolf was clawing at me to claim, even as every part of my human heart resisted. The mate bond flew in my veins like wildfire, pulling me toward him against my will. It was insufferable to stand this close, his scent of incense coiling round me. My body was betraying me with every shudder and flush.

I hated this. I hated him.

And still, I couldn’t breathe without feeling the bond between us.

At the far end of the hall, just behind the crowd, I caught sight of someone’s movement. A tall woman leaned against a pillar, her face half-hidden in the shadows. She was elegant, her long blonde hair fell in perfect waves. The emerald gown on her body was cut low enough to draw every eye. But her smirk, sharp as a blade, was fixed only on me.

Lucinda?

The whispers I had heard on arrival were true… Xavier’s mistress, the woman everyone thought would be Luna, until this cursed treaty bound him to me.

Her large blue eyes glowed with hatred, her lips painted as if they were stained in blood, arms crossed over her chest in defiance. She didn’t need to utter a word. Her presence screamed: You’ve stolen what was mine. Give it back.

I almost laughed. If only she knew that I hadn’t stolen anything. I was the one dragged into this union against my will, sacrificed by my father to hold a disgustingly fragile peace. The priest, an old man draped in a dark robe, lifted his staff and tapped it against the floor. I heard the sound echo like a drumbeat of doom.

“We gather under the Moon’s gaze,” he started, voice rough with age, “to unite Alpha Xavier of Blackmoon and Lady Davina of Silverfang in bond and blood, for the sake of peace.”

The word peace clotted in my stomach.

Xavier extended his hand toward me. His fingers were long, calloused, and steady. Reluctantly, I placed my own hand in his. The moment our skin touched, sparks erupted across my palm, crawling up my arm and then burrowing their way deep into my chest. My breath hung, my wolf whining in me. My eyes burned, not with tears but with rage at the Goddess who had cursed me with this bond.

Xavier’s face remained an unreadable mask, but I could see it all slip. The tightening of his jaw, the flaring of his nostrils as the bond surged through him. He felt it too.

The priest began to chant words of union, speaking of loyalty, duty, and the joining of bloodlines. Words that were an open lie.

My gaze wandered again to the crowd, warriors shifted in their armors, nobles watched with narrowed eyes, and Lucinda’s widening smirk.

And then, beyond all of them, the doors of the hall slammed open. The sound thundered, capturing everyone’s attention.

“STOP!”

My heart froze in my chest.

Darius. My cousin.

He stormed in, his face red, chest heaving, and eyes wide with desperation. His dark brown hair was disheveled, his clothes torn and rumpled from probably a violent struggle to reach this place. Two armored guards scrambled after him, but he shoved them aside with burning fury.

Gasps rippled through the guests in the hall.

“You cannot marry him!” Darius’ voice was sharp as broken glass. He pointed at Xavier, his entire body trembling with rage, “Davina, don’t you see? He murdered Rowan! He murdered your mate!”

Rowan.

The name struck me like a dagger through my ribs. My knees nearly collapsed. Rowan’s face flew to my memory, his smile, the warmth of his hand in mine, the nights he whispered promises beneath the glowing moon. All of it ripped to the surface, raw and bleeding. My wolf growled so mournfully, I nearly doubled over.

The hall exploded with murmurs. Some wolves moved their eyes, others leaned forward with hungry fascination, eager to feast on scandal.

Xavier’s aura burst like a storm cloud, crashing through the hall with enough force to make weaker wolves bow obligatorily. His face remained cold and void of countenance, but his eyes darkened.

“How dare you,” his voice dangerously low, “bring lies into my hall?”

Darius pushed against the guards now restraining him. His roar broke with desperation. “Lies? Everyone knows! Everyone whispers it behind closed doors. You slaughtered Rowan so you could chain Davina to you, to claim both her and her pack’s loyalty! He died for your ambition!”

The words speared straight into my chest. My vision blurred with fury and pain, and still Xavier said nothing.

Not a denial. Not a word.

Just plain silence.

The kind of silence that condemns more than any confession.

The priest hesitated, his staff shaking. “Alpha, Lady Davina… shall we… continue?” His voice trembled with fear.

The guards dragged Darius back. I could hear his feet scraping against the floor as his eyes were still locked on mine, pleading and desperate. “Davina! Don’t let him win! Rowan’s soul cries out for justice!”

My throat closed, my chest heaving in fury.

I tore my gaze from Darius and then turned it back to Xavier.

His eyes met mine… unyielding and unreadable as if nothing had happened. I leaned in close to him, close enough that no one else could hear, my lips parted as I whispered.

“Just wait and see, I’ll make you regret everything you did to me.”