Fated to the Dread Alpha

Ashes and Silk

Lizzy’s POV

The door clicked softly behind Kai, sealing me inside the suite that Varek had sent me to—no, banished me to. My body ached with a dull throb from the travel, from the shift, and maybe most of all, from the weight of everything I couldn’t name yet.

I stood motionless for a moment, expecting cold stone, a dungeon maybe. That’s what you’d imagine, isn’t it? A dark, monstrous palace for the so-called Dread Alpha. But the room was… not that.

The floor was black marble veined with silver. The walls were obsidian and matte, not menacing but elegant—modern in the strangest way. Sleek steel shelves lined with books. Tall windows with charcoal curtains that let in muted twilight. And the bed—massive and perfectly made—was clothed in crisp white sheets that practically glowed in the low light.

Kai cleared his throat behind me, bringing me back to reality. “Not what you expected?”

“I was expecting stone walls and a cot,” I muttered.

“Well,” he grinned, moving past me into the room, “the Alpha suites are above the dungeons, not in them.”

I smirked despite myself, but the weight behind my ribs didn’t lift.

Kai moved with that same effortless grace I’d seen back in the hall—confidence without arrogance, charm without threat. It was comforting. Dangerous.

He glanced at me, more serious now. “Don’t let Erin get to you.”

I looked away, but my throat tightened.

“She’s… relentless,” I admitted.

“She’s a memory,” he said softly. “And Varek doesn’t live in his memories.”

I didn’t answer. Because part of me wasn’t sure if that was true. The way he looked at me after… after what we shared—it was like he’d flipped a switch. Back to cold. Back to distant. And now, after that whole scene with his father?

What if I was just a mistake he couldn’t undo?

“He treats me like I don’t matter,” I said, hating how small my voice sounded.

“He treats you like he’s afraid,” Kai replied, brushing a lock of hair from my cheek. “Because he’s never had something to lose before.”

I looked up at him—and the way he was looking at me… it made my breath stutter.

His thumb brushed my cheekbone gently.

“Varek would be a fool to mess things up with you.”

That moment—something shifted. A current. A pulse. My wolf stirred but didn’t lunge, didn’t object. Instead, she watched.

I stepped back, quickly, needing space. “I—I should unpack or something.”

Kai didn’t push.

Instead, he moved to a tall shelf by the window, running his fingers along the spines of old books. His shoulders were broad but relaxed. Something in the way he carried himself was... warm. Strong.

Nothing like Varek’s coiled storm.

He pulled out a thick leather-bound volume, turned it over once in his hand, then crossed the room and handed it to me.

“Everything we know about Lycans,” he said. “And some things even the Elders would rather forget. If you want to understand what you’re part of now… what he is… start here.”

I took it slowly. The cover was heavy and cold.

“Thank you.”

He offered a crooked grin. “I’ll come back later and give you a proper tour. Maybe even smuggle some real food past the kitchen guards.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

He took my hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Then he left.

I waited until the door clicked shut before exhaling.

Nyra was silent.

Too silent.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

Her presence was there—deep and thrumming. But muted. Dimmed.

“I’m angry,” she said eventually. “Not at him. At her. That girl… Erin.”

“Why didn’t you speak up?”

“Because I needed to listen.”

“To what?”

“To you,” she whispered. “To how you would handle being hurt. Because you will be hurt again. This path isn’t soft.”

I sank onto the bed, the sheets cold against my back.

Nyra’s voice faded again—fatigue and fury battling within her. She needed rest. We both did.

But my mind wasn’t done yet.

I thought of the Dread Alpha. The mark. My mother.

I’d grown up believing my mother had died giving birth to me. That’s what my father told me. That she’d smiled one last time, whispered my name, and then gone cold.

But now… I didn’t know what to believe.

Was she taken? Or had she gone willingly?

Had she been Varek’s pack all along?

Had my father lied about everything?

He said she was his mate. His fated. But was that the truth? Or just another myth spun into a leash?

And Varek’s father—he’d known her. That was clear. He didn’t just recognize her. He mourned her. In his own twisted way.

Gods.

What if they were right?

What if my whole life had been built on a lie?

I sat up quickly, throwing the Lycan history book onto the desk, where it landed with a heavy thud.

I needed a bath. A reset.

The ensuite bathroom didn’t have a door—just an archway carved into the stone. But the space beyond was huge and open. Midnight tiles lined the floor. A sunken tub the size of a small pond lay in the center, its edge flanked by racks of neatly stacked towels, black glass bottles of oils, salts, and something that looked suspiciously like ancient soaps wrapped in parchment.

I turned the taps, watching as steaming water began to fill the tub. I poured in a handful of obsidian salts and a few drops of lavender oil, the room slowly warming with the scent.

I stripped silently, my reflection in the sleek mirror a stranger with bruised pride and silver scars.

I slid into the bath.

Warmth closed over my skin. Steam curled around me like a second skin. The ache in my bones dulled.

I leaned my head back.

Tried not to think.

Tried not to feel.

And that’s when the door swung open.

I sat up with a splash, water sloshing over the edge of the tub.

Varek.

He stepped inside like he owned the realm—because, in a way, he did.

His eyes scanned the room, landing on me like a heat-seeking missile.

My breath caught.

I couldn’t move.

His eyes darkened—silver turned storm.