THE ALPHA'S MISSING BRIDE

CHAPTER TWO-THE COLD AWAKENING

Aria’s POV

Cold.

That was the first thing she felt. A biting, unforgiving cold that seeped through her bones and wrapped around her like chains. Her head throbbed, her throat was dry, and when she tried to move, her wrists met resistance.

Chains.

Her eyes snapped open, but darkness greeted her. The air was thick and damp, carrying the smell of moss, wet stone, and something metallic — blood. She wasn’t in her bridal chamber. She wasn’t anywhere near the pack house.

Panic rose like a tidal wave.

Where am I?

Aria struggled against the chains, her wolf stirring weakly inside her. It was strange — her wolf was silent, distant, as though some invisible barrier kept it from surfacing. She tried to shift, but nothing happened. Her heart hammered. This wasn’t just a kidnapping. This was magic.

Footsteps echoed in the distance. Slow. Measured.

Then came the light — a dim lantern swinging from the hand of a cloaked figure. The hood hid their face, but the aura that filled the room was unmistakable. Power. Old and dangerous.

“You’re awake,” the figure said, their voice smooth and cold. “Good. We have much to do before the moon fades.”

Aria’s chains tightened at the sound, as if responding to the stranger’s will.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her voice trembling despite her effort to sound strong. “Why am I here?”

The figure chuckled softly, stepping closer. “You don’t remember, do you? Perfect. That will make things… easier.”

Something about the way they said it sent chills down her spine. She searched her memory — the ceremony, the dress, the way Damian had looked at her before she went to prepare. Everything was clear until… nothing. Just darkness.

“You think your Alpha can save you,” the figure continued, circling her like a predator. “But this is bigger than him… bigger than your little pack. You were chosen long before you became his bride.”

Chosen?

Aria’s wolf howled faintly in the back of her mind, as if trying to warn her.

The figure lowered the lantern, revealing a glimpse of their face — pale skin, ink-black eyes that seemed to swallow the light. Not wolf. Not human. Something else.

“You belong to the prophecy, Aria Mooncrest,” they whispered. “And tonight is just the beginning.”

Before she could speak, a burning sensation spread through the mark on her neck — the bond mark Damian had left during the claiming ritual. It glowed faintly, reacting to something unseen. She gasped in pain, the chains rattling as her body arched.

Far away, deep in the forest, Damian threw back his head and howled — a sound that shook the trees and chilled the night. Their bond wasn’t broken. She was still alive.

But time was running out.