CHAPTER 4 — The House of Wolves
921 Words
The moment Lucian left, Mirabel attacked the door.
Her hands shook as she twisted the knob, but as expected—
Locked.
“Of course,” she muttered bitterly. “Safe, he says. More like trapped.”
The room was beautiful, warm, and strangely luxurious… but it still felt like a cage. She paced back and forth, anger simmering so hot she could barely breathe.
Mate.
He called her his mate.
She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to steady her thoughts.
“No,” she whispered. “I won’t be controlled again. Not by Kelvin. Not by Lucian. Not by anyone.”
Before her panic could swallow her again, the lock clicked.
Mirabel froze.
The door opened slowly, but it wasn’t Lucian who entered.
It was a woman—tall, elegant, carrying a tray of steaming food. Her dark hair was braided neatly, and her eyes were a warm caramel brown filled with something Mirabel didn’t expect:
Kindness.
“Good morning,” the woman said softly. “My name is Elara.”
Mirabel didn’t move. “Where am I?”
Elara set the tray down on a small table. “Shadowmoon Territory. Lucian’s domain.”
Mirabel’s stomach knotted. “So I was kidnapped.”
Elara’s lips twitched. “Lucian doesn’t kidnap. He… intervenes.”
“That is not comforting,” Mirabel snapped.
Elara studied her with a sympathetic expression. “You’re overwhelmed. It’s normal. The first days after a bond… they’re the hardest.”
Mirabel stiffened. “Don’t say that word.”
Elara smiled gently. “It scares you?”
“It’s not real,” Mirabel insisted. “I don’t believe in—” She cut herself off.
Werewolves.
Fate.
Bonds.
But the truth was still there, throbbing inside her chest like a second heartbeat.
“You don’t have to believe,” Elara said softly. “The bond exists whether you accept it or not.”
Mirabel swallowed hard. “How do I break it?”
Elara’s smile faded.
“You don’t.”
Silence.
A cold chill spread down Mirabel’s spine. “What do you mean?”
“The mate bond is spiritual, ancient. It chooses for you. A bond can weaken. It can be rejected… though painful.” Elara hesitated. “But it cannot be undone.”
Mirabel felt her knees weaken. “I can’t… I can’t do this.”
Elara stepped closer, gently placing a hand on Mirabel’s arm. Mirabel flinched at first—but the touch was warm, grounding.
“You’re stronger than you think,” Elara said. “Lucian wouldn’t have saved you if he didn’t believe that.”
Mirabel laughed bitterly. “He didn’t save me out of kindness.”
“No,” Elara agreed easily. “He saved you because he felt you die.”
Mirabel’s breath caught.
Elara nodded. “When a mate dies… the other feels it. The pain is unbearable.”
“So he saved me to save himself,” Mirabel whispered.
“Perhaps at first,” Elara said gently. “But Lucian is not heartless. Not with his mate.”
Mirabel shook her head. “He’s cold. Controlling. He talks like fate gave him ownership of me.”
Elara’s eyes softened. “Lucian has been alone a long time. Mates don’t come often to alphas. And when they do… it changes them.”
Mirabel felt a strange twist in her chest—anger mixed with something else she didn’t want to name.
“Eat,” Elara said, stepping back. “You need strength. Lucian ordered—”
“I don’t care what Lucian ordered,” Mirabel cut in sharply.
A deep voice spoke from behind her.
“You should.”
Mirabel spun around, her heart lurching.
Lucian stood in the doorway, one hand resting casually on the frame, silver eyes locked onto her with unreadable intensity. He must have overheard everything.
Elara bowed her head respectfully. “Alpha.”
Lucian nodded once. “Leave us.”
Elara slipped out silently.
The moment the door closed, Mirabel’s pulse kicked into a sprint.
“You need strength,” Lucian said, stepping toward her. “Your body is adjusting.”
“Don’t pretend you care,” she snapped. “You just don’t want your mate bond to weaken.”
Lucian’s expression hardened. “I care because your pain affects me.”
“That’s not caring,” she fired back. “That’s self-preservation.”
Lucian exhaled sharply—a sign of frustration she hadn’t seen before.
“You’re impossible,” he muttered.
“And you’re unbearable.”
Their eyes locked.
Heat flared.
Not the romantic kind she wanted—this was anger, fire, friction.
Enemies-to-lovers in its truest form.
Lucian stepped closer, lowering his voice.
“You can hate me all you want,” he said. “But you will eat. You will regain your strength. And you will not leave this room.”
“Why?” Mirabel demanded. “Because you said so?”
“Because the pack can sense you,” Lucian said quietly. “And they don’t trust what they cannot understand.”
“What is there to understand?” she whispered. “I’m just a girl.”
Lucian’s eyes darkened.
“No,” he said. “You’re my mate. And that makes you the future Luna of the Shadowmoon Pack.”
Mirabel’s blood ran cold.
Future… what?
She stared at him, horrified.
And Lucian added, with a voice that sent a violent shiver down her spine:
“And the pack will kill anyone who threatens what is mine.”
---
- Writer
