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952 Words
I woke up gasping, my body jerking upright so fast my head spun.
The nightmare again. Always the same one. My father's body lying in a pool of blood, his eyes still open, staring at nothing. His hand reaching toward me even in death, like he was finally trying to come back for me.
But he never did. He never would.
My heart pounded against my ribs. Sweat soaked me. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to push the images away.
Slowly, my racing heart began to calm. The nightmare faded back into the dark corners of my mind where it lived.
I opened my eyes and looked around.
The room was elegant but simple. Wood-paneled walls. A stone fireplace. Furniture that looked handmade and expensive.
This wasn't Rhys's house. This wasn't the isolation room.
Then I remembered. The rescue. The party. The rejection. Luxian carrying me away while Arghea whispered warnings about curses and dead mates.
A shiver ran down my spine despite the warmth of the room.
I slid out of bed, my bare feet touching cool wooden floors. My legs felt shaky, weak from days of torture and starvation. But I could stand. I could walk.
That was something.
I headed toward the door, trying to figure out how to get out and find someone who could tell me where I was. But I stopped when I caught my reflection in a full-length mirror near the closet.
Last night I'd been wearing that white dress—the one I'd picked out so carefully for Rhys's party. The one that had been torn and soaked in blood.
Now I was wearing a red silk nightgown. Someone had changed me.
My face flushed hot. Had Luxian...? Had he seen...?
I pushed the thought away and looked closer at my reflection. The bruises on my face were completely gone. The cuts on my arms had healed to faint pink lines. Even the deep wounds on my back felt closed, no longer bleeding.
My wolf healing had finally kicked in without the wolfsbane suppressing it.
For the first time in three years, I looked almost... normal. Almost like the girl I used to be.
A sudden knock made me jump.
My body tensed instinctively, ready to run or hide or make myself small. Old habits died hard.
"Wh-who?" I stammered, hating how weak my voice sounded.
No one replied. Instead, the door swung open.
And there he was.
Luxian stepped into the room wearing an unbuttoned white shirt that revealed a muscled chest. His caramel-brown hair was slightly messy, like he'd just woken up. Those ash-gray eyes—not quite silver, not quite stone—fixed on me with an intensity that made my breath catch.
He was even more striking in daylight than he'd been last night.
"Finally, you are awake." His voice was deep, calm, but something in it made my pulse quicken.
His aura was intimidating. Alpha dominance radiated off him, but there was something else too. Something magnetic that drew me in even as warning bells rang in my head.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, taking a step closer.
I took an instinctive step back. "Where am I? And who—" I stopped myself. I knew who he was. Alpha Luxian. My fated mate. The cursed Alpha who'd lost four mates.
"I am Luxian Alderon, and you are in my pack. Blackcrown Shadow Pack."
Blackcrown Shadow. I'd heard of it— the most powerful packs in the region. Wealthy. Well-protected. And ruled by the cursed Alpha standing in front of me.
"And..." I swallowed hard, my face heating again. "Is it you who changed my clothes?"
He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he moved closer with a slight smirk playing at his lips. My back hit the wall. There was nowhere left to go.
Up close, I could see every detail. Heavy brows. Those piercing gray eyes. A freshly shaved jaw that made him look both dangerous and refined. The mate bond I couldn't feel hummed beneath my skin anyway, some instinct recognizing him even if my wolf couldn't.
"You better get ready," he said, his tone firm and commanding.
"Ready for?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"We're getting married tonight."
He gestured casually toward the closet. Inside hung a beautiful wedding dress—white lace and silk..
My eyes widened. "Married?"
The word felt like a punch to the gut. Marriage. Again. After everything with Rhys, after three years of torture disguised as matrimony, the thought of doing it again made my chest tighten with panic.
"I don't think I can, I..." I shook my head, trying to find words.
"I..." My throat felt tight. "I mean... I am not ready to have another marriage."
The words came out small, broken. Because it was true. The pain of Rhys's betrayal, the years of torture, had left scars deeper than any physical wound. The thought of putting myself in that position again—of trusting another Alpha with that kind of power over me—made my wolf pace anxiously inside me.
We're not ready, Arghea whispered. We're still broken.
"There's not much time left, neither time to think," Luxian said coldly.
He moved closer, and suddenly he was right there, his presence overwhelming. He bent down, his hand reaching up to stroke my cheek in slow motion. His face was mere inches from mine. So close I could feel his warm breath against my skin, could smell that intoxicating scent of vanilla and pine.
"I saved you, and now you have to repay me."
He stood back up and began buttoning his shirt with practiced efficiency, though his eyes never left mine.
- Writer
