The Ugly Wolfling

Chapter 2

The moment Ellen had spent years waiting for turned into a nightmare. When she stepped into the packhouse that evening, she clung to the fragile hope that her mate would be the one person who truly saw her—beyond the whispers, beyond the disdain. That maybe, for once, she wouldn’t be invisible. That the mate bond, the sacred connection that bound two souls together, would transcend what everyone thought of her. But fate had been cruel.

Aiden Blackthorne, the Alpha's son, took one look at her and recoiled in disgust. The revulsion that flashed across his face cut deeper than any insult, shattering the last remnants of hope she had dared to hold on to. Her heart pounded in her ears, muffling the sounds around her. Her mate, the one destined to cherish and protect her, looked at her with nothing but disgust.

Astrid, his ever-present shadow, latched onto him with the confidence of someone who knew she belonged. Her laughter rang out, sharp and cruel, savouring every moment of Ellen’s humiliation. She draped herself around Aiden, fingers trailing over his arm, her smirk dripping with satisfaction. This wasn’t some impulsive act of cruelty—it was calculated, orchestrated, a game she played with practiced ease. Ellen wasn’t an opponent, wasn’t even a piece on the board—she was the joke, the entertainment, the inevitable loser in a game she hadn't even realized she was part of.

But Aiden hadn’t rejected her. No, that would have been too easy. Instead, he had chosen to deceive her first, to let her believe—if only for a moment—that she was wanted, that this was something real. His invitation hadn’t been an olive branch—it had been a trap.

Aiden came back for her when she had hesitated to leave, lingering for just a moment too long at the base of the staircase that would lead her away from the gathering. His fingers closed around her wrist, firm and unrelenting, his grip sending sparks of electricity across her skin. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear as he whispered, "Come on, this is going to be fun."

Fun.

Deep down, she knew the word felt wrong. Her stomach clenched, a small voice in her mind whispering that she needed to get away, but she ignored it, clinging to the possibility that maybe, this was real. The possibility that Aiden was finally seeing her for more than just her appearance.

Her feet betrayed her and she felt herself following against her will. The mate bond drew her in like an invisible leash, drawing her closer despite the unease clawing at her insides. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to resist, but her body was no longer her own. Aiden’s grip, firm and possessive, guided her upstairs, and the small flicker of hope still burning in her chest kept her from pulling away.

Upstairs, in the dim glow of candlelight, Aiden and Astrid began their game. They blindfolded her, their voices dripping with amusement as they teased and taunted. Aiden ghosted his hands over her skin, igniting the sparks again, making Ellen weak to his touch. Beneath her fear, a desperate part of her clung to the illusion, to the possibility that this was real. The mate bond, a magical force she could neither understand nor control, bound her to him, making resistance feel impossible. Her body responded to his presence, betraying her rational mind, leaving her trapped between what she knew and what she felt.

Aiden understood exactly what the bond did to her. He knew the way it muddled her instincts, made her crave him against her better judgment. And he used it. He leaned in, his lips hovering over her skin, his fingers tracing lazy, torturous patterns over her arms. He whispered things he knew would ignite that desperate longing, knowing she couldn’t fight it, knowing she would respond despite herself.

She let herself sink into it. Into him. His presence was intoxicating, wrapping around her like a spell, pulling her deeper into the fantasy. The mate bond clouded her judgment, twisting every warning into something she was able to ignore. Her body responded before her mind could protest, drawn to him by something stronger than reason, stronger than her own will. Even as doubt flickered in the back of her mind, she let herself believe—because if this wasn't real, then what did she have left? Her heart pounded against her ribs, her breath came in shallow gasps. It felt foreign yet desperately needed, an unfamiliar warmth wrapping around her. As Aiden’s breath, warm and teasing, sent shivers across her skin, she let herself believe—just for a moment—that this was what it meant to be wanted. That this was what it meant to be his. Even with Astrid there, even with doubt gnawing at the edges of her mind, she let herself sink into the fantasy. If she closed her eyes, if she ignored the whispers of reason, she could pretend—for just a breath—that this was real. That she was wanted. That she wasn’t a mistake. Her body betrayed her, a dull ache unfurling in her chest, hollow and relentless, like an open wound she couldn’t close. A shiver ran down her spine, not from cold, but from the yearning that coiled deep inside her—an unbearable need for warmth, for belonging. It was a hunger that had never been fed, a void she had spent years pretending didn’t exist. But here, in this moment, she could feel it in every inch of her body, raw and unrelenting. She had spent years imagining what it would feel like to be wanted, and in that moment, she let herself imagine. Even with Astrid there, even with the laughter hidden in their voices, she let the fantasy take hold.

Then something tightened around her wrists, and the fantasy shattered.

Panic surged through her veins as the rope bit into her skin, holding her in place. Instinct took over, and she twisted her wrists, yanking hard against the restraints. The rough fibres burned against her skin, but the ropes didn’t budge. She kicked her legs, struggling against the chair, but her body remained trapped. A cold rush of dread settled deep in her stomach, suffocating and absolute, drowning out everything else. The blindfold was yanked away, and the truth of her situation slammed into her like a physical blow.

She was tied to a chair at the foot of Aiden’s bed, her wrists bound tightly to the armrests. Her breath hitched as her vision adjusted to the dimly lit room, and her stomach dropped at the sight before her.

Aiden turned back to Astrid, and as they stood in front of her, their bodies melded together, lips colliding in a feverish, heated kiss, an intimate display meant to carve deeper wounds into Ellen’s soul. Their hands roamed freely, grasping, claiming. The air between them pulsed with desire—desire that should have belonged to her, yet instead, it was dangled before her like a cruel taunt, a punishment she had no way to escape.

A blinding pain took root deep in her chest, burning through every nerve ending as the mate bond reacted violently to Aiden’s betrayal. It was worse than the time she had fallen from the training platform as a child, her body left aching and bruised for days. Worse than every whispered insult, every dismissive glance. This was not just pain—it was absolute devastation, slowly breaking her down from the inside out, leaving her raw and exposed with no escape from the torment. Every time he touched Astrid sharp waves of agony tore through her body, as if she were experiencing the pleasure secondhand, only it was twisted into something excruciating. The bond, which should have been her salvation, was instead a conduit for her suffering.

She gasped, jerking against the restraints, but the ropes held firm. Aiden broke away from Astrid, his lips glistening, his gaze locking onto Ellen with eerie amusement. "You feel that, don’t you?" he murmured, his voice husky from the kiss. "That’s what it means to be my mate. You’ll always want me, always feel me. You’ll never be able to stop it, but you’ll never have me."

Astrid giggled, her fingers tracing a slow, possessive path down Aiden’s chest before she turned to Ellen, her smirk curling like a blade, amusement flickering in her eyes. "Poor thing," she cooed mockingly. "Does it hurt? Watching him, feeling him? Knowing you’ll never be good enough?"

Ellen bit the inside of her cheek, the sharp sting and metallic tang of blood a last-ditch effort to ground herself, to sever the bond’s hold even if only for a moment. But it was like trying to fight gravity—an invisible force, inescapable, insidious. Aiden knew it, and he wielded it like a weapon. She wouldn’t let them see her break. But she couldn’t stop the way her body trembled, how the mate bond continued to lash at her like a cruel whip, forcing her to endure every sensation as Aiden leaned back in, capturing Astrid’s lips once more in a kiss that was slow, deep—intentional.