The Wolf Queen’s Awakening

CHAPTER 003

Morning is cruel. It comes quickly, forcing me out of bed into a world I do not wish to face. Cold air bites at my skin as I am carried from my room toward a waiting car. Although my arms ache from where they grabbed me, complaints only lead to further distress.

My stomach lurched when the door slammed shut behind me and the car abruptly jerked forward, and the air inside felt heavy and oppressive. Gripping the fabric of my dress to prevent my hands from shaking, I curled them into fists to hide any fearful expressions from those around me.

Nobody tells me where we're headed; I already know.

I gaze out the window, watching as trees pass by quickly. As we drive deeper into Eisenclaw territory, my chest tightens with anticipation as we draw nearer to our destination; according to what I've heard from rumors, I've heard that their Alpha is harsh and unyielding towards any weakness within his pack.

As soon as the car slows, I see through my window what looks like an estate; its walls rise like fortress walls to the sky with black stone walls stretching toward them and gates opening at once to admit us into its grounds, at which time an engine stop occurs, and I'm pulled open into its folds—instantly opening back doors behind us all the time. Until suddenly my engine shuts off again. And all at once my back door is forced open—like I mean nothing to him at all. WHEN WE ARRIVE AT HIS PLACE, I catch a glimpse of my estate; through its window wall, I see its estate rise like fortress-cold and intimidating walls stretching toward heaven—like fortress-esque. Through its windows I catch sight of its estate, which rises like a fortress-esque estate that stands firm against black stone walls stretched skyward. We drive through its gates as the gates swing open, then drive in; the back door is then pulled open upon engine stoppage, followed by the engine cutoff, followed by the door being pulled open.

"Out." My hesitation lasted only an instant before someone grabbed my arm and pulled me from my seat. As my legs trembled as my feet hit gravel, my body wanted me to run for safety... But where could I run to? No one offered refuge.

Heavy boots crunch against the ground as I feel his presence nearing, unyielding yet powerful. When I raise my gaze, he appears clearly before me.

Elias Falken.

He stands atop the stone steps, watching and assessing. His arms are crossed over his chest in a relaxed fashion, but something in his gaze makes my breath catch—Elias is completely unlike Viktor, who thrives off cruelty and enjoys breaking people apart, but Elias seems different, like someone who poses danger quietly but steadily. I swallow hard in an effort to keep breathing as his presence remains dauntingly present. I feel myself trying hard not to panic in his presence. I swallow hard and force my airway open as I attempt to calm my nerves before meeting with Viktor for the first time; I find myself fighting my nerves over Elias' gaze makes my breath catch - something in Viktor thrives off cruelty while Elias seems dangerously quiet but calculated compared to Viktor who relishes taking pleasure from breaking people apart; Elias was altogether different altogether: something Elias seemed less aggressively dangerously measured than Viktor who revelled in breaking people apart while Elias seemed different: quiet yet calculated but nevertheless dangerous enough that made me swallow hard; forcing myself not to breathe, forcing my way past this situational discomfort before forcing myself past this encounter with this stranger again after I had managed to stop him in time before being overwhelmed by Viktor who thrived on cruelty while Viktor had pleasure doing the opposite role, quietly calculatedly breaking people apart while Elias proved dangerous enough in terms of being an unexpected danger that made him out; when in comparison by contrast when it had done with people breaking people apart than when Viktor thrived upon taking pleasure taking pleasure a dangerous nonetheless, dangerous in that quiet when confronting me once more so by quiet; something different enough so as it could become dangerous as soon after seeing who had taken. And so close up, frontal confronted him before leaving when this slow in some other person... This guy... but something else; when things are off course too fast, but then taken from him. With him, when there would have been things done off before him, like Viktor had him too because of breaking people off in that out there, but then. Now... he could. I could, um, put another one... but when breaking them out. adversary who just didn't mind just slowly until one had him out before being used against each person.... And thus. This time took. He made himself out that way too, too... until suddenly. And suddenly made the other was.

"She's yours now," the man beside me tells Elias as he makes his way slowly down the stairs with slow, deliberate movements, each beat reverberating off my ribs as my heart races against time. Just moments away, he stops just close enough for me to smell wood smoke mixed with something darker and sharper—something that suddenly fills the air around us all.

He studies me, his eyes sweeping across my face, wrists, and collarbone as he judges and measures me with his fingertips. Measuring. Judging. Measuring. But I remain still, not moving or speaking up—even blinking. Until suddenly, his hand shoots out.

My breath caught as his hand clamped around my chin, forcing my face up. His fingers were warm with calluses from fighting, his voice smooth yet harsh as he asked, "What use do I have for something broken?"

"She should put herself down," one of the men says under their breath, as my jaw tightens and my stomach knots with anxiety. I feel myself becoming vulnerable again but don't allow any emotion to show. One of them chuckles under their breath. "You could always put her down."

Elias doesn't laugh when his grip tightens on me for an instant before releasing me and turning away up the steps without another word to speak of, without another mention of "Take her to her quarters." My quarters. Clearly my home now.

As soon as I stepped inside the Eisenclaw Pack, a hand gripped my wrist tightly, pulling me forward. Although my eyes remain shut, my heart pounded loudly inside, wondering what sort of life awaits me in its ranks.

The room is cold; stone walls absorb what little heat the fire in the corner can bring. I sleep on an unadorned, rough-hewn mattress, far removed from Viktor's pack, where space was cramped and filthy—yet, I find no release here.

This isn't safety; it's another cage.

I sit at the edge of the bed with my fingers twitching at the fabric of my dress in silence as my thoughts start crawling up from below me with whispers of doubt, fear, and all I've lost. All at once there's a knock that sends shockwaves through the room before my head snaps back just as the door swings open—and with it comes another knock that sends shockwaves through me just in time to open.

An unfamiliar woman entered, her tall figure balanced on lean legs with sharp but not unkind features, her gaze resting upon me calculatingly and measuring me carefully as her gaze settled upon me with purposeful eyes calculating me out before crossing arms and tilting her head over. "My name is Selene; I oversee this estate. Follow my rules, and we won't have problems." I nodded once to acknowledge Selene's authority before walking away from the room.

"Good. Your duties start tomorrow morning at dawn—don't be late!" She turned and left. As I stared at the closed door with my heart pounding in my throat: duties = not freedom = never freedom.

"All I can do now is take one day at a time and hope my breathing settles down." Survive.

Dawn comes too quickly. My fingers numb from morning chill, I enter my kitchen as soon as it becomes light outside. The room bustles with movement: voices, metal clanging against metal, pots crashing onto stoves... before I can stop myself, an incident occurs and sends shudders down my spine.

Selene notices. Her gaze flickers over me, unreadable. "Have you worked in a kitchen before?" I nod.

She points to a counter and instructs me to begin chopping.

So my hands begin moving on their own, cutting vegetables, stirring pots, and cleaning spills without my intervention—my mouth shut, my head down.

"Faster," someone shouts at me. But instead of snapping back, I swallow my urge and stay still until someone finally says, "Enough." Immediately the room quiets down.

"Come." My heart sinks as Elias stands in the doorway watching. Something in the air shifted suddenly as his boots echoed across the silence. Stepping forward slowly, he stopped just within reaching distance before his gaze lit into mine with flame. And then came his words of comfort: "Come." "Come."

"Just one word," was his command. I hesitated, then set my knife aside and washed my hands before following him out of the kitchen and down the hall to his office through massive doors that lead into it—shutting them behind us with silence only being broken by his turning slowly to face me again.

"Here, there are rules," he begins in a calm tone of voice. "You will learn them." I nod once, and he steps closer, his fingers lightly brushing my wrist as an example, test, warning, or promise; his gaze remains fixed upon me until my response comes; all he asks for in return is my face's blankness (at least externally) while watching for it in response—yet something tells him what's inside! Keeping silent about my true feelings. Keeping outwardly calm while waiting on what lies within me? said He watches and waits; in my internal reactions, I tend not to let anyone in;

I don't know whether or not to leave.

"I lay awake, staring at the ceiling with an anxious heartbeat; Elias Falken is like an invisible hurricane just waiting to burst forth... What will happen now?"