Wolf's Bride

CHAPTER 1

The cool breeze tugged at the hem of my cloak as I hurried through the dense forest, the shadows of the towering trees offering me the brief illusion of freedom. My breath was shallow, and my heartbeat loud in the silence. The guards wouldn’t miss me for at least an hour; I’d memorized their shifts by now. Years of living like a caged animal had taught me how to find moments of freedom—precious, fleeting moments.

My feet moved quickly, guided by instinct through the moonlit forest beyond the manor grounds. The cool air whispered against my skin, carrying the gentle sounds of rustling leaves and distant owls. For a moment, I felt like myself again. Not Lady Lyla Arvid, the disgraced niece of Lord Axton, but simply Lyla—wild, free, untethered by duty and the chains of bloodlines.

The path I followed was one I had trodden many times before, a narrow trail through the woods that led to a secluded glade. I stopped at the edge of the clearing, my gaze lifting toward the night sky. The stars stretched out above me, so far away and indifferent to the turmoil of the world below. Here, under the canopy of the ancient trees, I could almost forget that I was trapped. Almost.

My fingers grazed the bark of a nearby oak as I leaned against it, allowing myself a moment to breathe. The weight of Lord Axton’s control felt distant in this stolen time. But it was always there, lurking at the edges of my thoughts.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back as the night washed over me. If I tried hard enough, I could pretend that I wasn’t Lyla at all. I could be anyone—a woman with choices, with freedom. But that illusion never lasted long.

I opened my eyes and exhaled, watching my breath curl in the cool night air.

“Why do you come here, Lyla?” The voice of reason, always echoing in my head.

I had no answer, no real hope that the forest could offer anything more than a temporary reprieve. There was no escape for me. My fate had been sealed the day my parents died, leaving me in the clutches of my uncle, Lord Axton. From the moment he became my guardian, he made it clear that my life was not my own. I was a pawn in his game, and soon I would be sold like cattle to the highest bidder.

The sound of snapping twigs jolted me from my thoughts, and my body tensed. I turned sharply, scanning the shadows for the source of the noise. Nothing moved, but I could feel it—a presence lurking just beyond the trees, watching me.

“Who's there?” My voice was steady, though my heart raced. The silence that followed was unnerving, but I wouldn’t let fear control me. Not again.

I took a step forward, peering into the darkness, but whatever or whoever had been watching was gone. Just like that, the fleeting sense of peace is shattered. My stolen freedom vanished, leaving behind the suffocating reality I was bound to.

I pulled my cloak tighter around me and turned back toward the manor. It was time to return before the guards noticed my absence. As I walked, my thoughts returned to the prison I called home—Blackthorn Manor. Its imposing stone walls loomed in the distance, a grim reminder of the life I could never escape.

The manor came into view just as the moonlight broke through the clouds, casting a pale glow over the estate. I slipped back through the hedge and into the side courtyard, careful to avoid the watchful eyes of the guards. Years of sneaking in and out had taught me the precise moments when their attention waned, and tonight was no different.

As I crept through the servants' entrance, the familiar scent of damp stone and candle wax greeted me. The dark halls of Blackthorn Manor seemed to swallow the light, casting long, flickering shadows across the ancient walls. I moved quietly, the sound of my footsteps muffled by the thick rugs beneath my boots.

It wasn’t until I reached the grand staircase that I allowed myself to relax. I was almost free at home. My chambers were just a few steps away when—

“Lyla.”

The voice, deep and cruel, froze me in place. Lord Axton’s figure appeared at the top of the stairs, his pale eyes glinting in the low light.

I swallowed hard, turning slowly to face him. “Uncle.”

He descended the stairs with deliberate slowness, each step a reminder of his authority, his control. I stood still, trying to hide the anger that surged through me every time I looked at him. His tall, imposing figure was draped in black, as if he had shrouded himself in death itself. His grey hair was slicked back, and his thin lips curled into a mocking smile as he reached the bottom step.

“Out for another midnight stroll?” he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’ve developed quite the habit of sneaking out. A lady of your standing should know better.”

I clenched my fists, but kept my voice calm. “I needed air.”

Lord Axton’s smile widened. “Air? How quaint. You seem to forget, Lyla, that this estate is not your playground. You belong here, under my protection.”

“Your protection?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice laced with bitterness. “I feel more like a prisoner.”

His eyes narrowed, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. “A prisoner? Is that what you think?”

“I think you’ve kept me locked away long enough,” I said, my voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “I think you’ve used me for your games, for your schemes, and now you want to sell me off like livestock.”

Lord Axton stepped closer, his face inches from mine. “Careful, niece,” he whispered, his voice dangerous. “You forget your place.”

“I know my place,” I shot back, meeting his gaze. “I’m the last of the Arvid line, and I deserve more than to be treated as some bargaining chip for your ambitions.”

His hand shot out, gripping my chin with a bruising force. “You deserve nothing,” he hissed, his breath hot against my skin. “You are nothing without me, Lyla. Your precious bloodline is worthless, tainted by your mother and father’s failures. You should be grateful I’ve kept you alive this long.”

I glared at him, refusing to let him see the fear that coiled in my chest. “Is that what you call this? Keeping me alive? Or is it just another way to control me?”

Lord Axton’s grip tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might strike me. But then, just as quickly, he released me, stepping back with a cold smile. “You are to be mated to Alpha Ronan of the Darkfang Pack,” he said, his voice suddenly calm, as if the decision was as simple as choosing what to eat for dinner.

The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. “What?”

“You heard me,” Axton continued. “The arrangement has been made. Ronan will arrive in three days’ time to claim you as his mate.”

My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of anger and disbelief flooding my veins. “You’re… selling me to a werewolf?”

“I’m securing our family’s future,” he corrected, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “The Darkfang Pack is powerful, and Ronan is one of the most feared Alphas in Eldoria. You should be honoured.”

“Honoured?” I spat the word. “You’re throwing me to a monster!”

Lord Axton’s face darkened. “Enough,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You will do as you are told. If you refuse, you will find yourself in a far worse situation than you can imagine.”

My stomach twisted with dread, but I refused to back down. “You can’t force me into this.”

“Oh, but I can,” Axton said with a sneer. “You see, Lyla, you don’t have a choice. You never did.”

The finality of his words sank into me like a blade. There was no escaping this. No running away. My fate had been sealed, and I was nothing more than a pawn in my uncle’s twisted game of power.

Without another word, Lord Axton turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the empty hall.

I stood there, frozen, as the weight of my impending marriage settled over me like a shroud. Alpha Ronan. The name echoed in my mind, a promise of doom.

I was trapped. And this time, there was no escape.

The wind howled outside as I finally retreated to my chambers. I locked the door behind me and slumped against it, my legs trembling beneath me. My mind raced, spinning through the events of the night, trying to grasp what had just happened.

Three days. That’s all the time I

had left.

Three days, and my life would be over.