Marked by the Alpha
1183 Words
Ariana sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling slightly as she stared at the ornate walls of the room she now lived in. Dominic’s mansion was silent, intimidating, and suffocating all at once. The chandelier above her sparkled with cold elegance, casting fractured shadows across the room. It was beautiful—like a prison made of gold.
She hadn’t seen him since their tense encounter in the dining room the night before. Clara had brought her food, clean towels, and a set of clothes that fit her just right, which made Ariana wonder how Dominic had her measurements in the first place. That thought alone gave her goosebumps.
She walked toward the mirror, her bare feet silent against the glossy marble floor. The reflection that stared back wasn’t the Ariana she remembered. This one had tired eyes and bruised pride. She touched the fading red mark on her neck—the possessive grip Dominic had left when he kissed her forcefully, claiming her mouth like it was owed to him.
Just then, the door creaked open, and her entire body tensed.
Dominic stepped in.
He didn’t knock. He never did.
His tall, broad figure filled the doorway, his presence impossible to ignore. Dressed in dark slacks and a crisp black shirt with the top buttons undone, Dominic looked like he walked straight out of a fantasy—and into her nightmare.
“You’re awake,” he said simply, his voice as cold as ever.
Ariana said nothing, lowering her gaze as instructed the day before. He seemed to like silence better than backtalk.
He walked over to the desk, retrieved a folder, and glanced at her through the mirror. “We’re leaving in twenty minutes. Wear something decent.”
Her heart skipped. “Leaving?” she echoed.
His eyes flicked to her. “You’re mine now. People need to see it.”
She swallowed. “Where are we going?”
“To the packhouse. My pack needs to meet my… wife.”
The way he said the word made her feel like filth.
He turned on his heel and walked out.
Ariana stood frozen for a second before Clara rushed in moments later with a long black dress and a pair of heels. “You heard him,” she whispered, her voice kind. “You need to look perfect.”
Ariana slipped into the dress. It hugged her waist and flared out around her ankles, the silk cool against her skin. She’d never worn anything so expensive. Clara did her makeup softly, hiding the stress under a flawless finish. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, and a small black clutch was pressed into her hand.
“Good girl,” Clara said with a reassuring smile. “Just… stay quiet. Don’t challenge him. Not in public.”
Ariana barely had time to breathe before Dominic returned. He gave her one look from head to toe, his expression unreadable.
“Let’s go.”
They walked outside to a sleek black car. Dominic opened the door, and she climbed in. He got in beside her, silent, his gaze focused ahead. No music. No small talk. Just tension so thick it could choke.
The car ride was long and winding, through forests and empty highways. Ariana watched the trees blur past the window, her mind spinning.
What would his pack think of her?
Would they hate her?
Would they pity her?
They arrived at a grand estate—larger than the mansion. It looked like an ancient fortress modernized with luxury. The front gates swung open automatically, and wolves in human form stood in formation near the entrance, dressed in sleek uniforms.
Dominic stepped out, buttoning his jacket.
“Come,” he said without looking back.
Ariana followed.
Inside, the packhouse was breathtaking. Crystal lights, marble stairs, tall windows—it was wealth beyond her imagination.
But it wasn’t the beauty that caught her attention.
It was the dozens of eyes watching her.
Men. Women. Wolves. Some young. Some old. All silent.
A woman in a burgundy suit stepped forward. Her eyes narrowed on Ariana before giving Dominic a respectful nod.
“Alpha.”
“Luna,” another voice whispered from behind.
Ariana’s chest tightened.
Dominic’s hand landed on her lower back possessively. “This is Ariana Blake. My wife.”
There were murmurs.
Disbelief.
Judgment.
Someone even scoffed under their breath.
Dominic’s jaw clenched.
He turned sharply. “Is there a problem?” His voice thundered.
Everyone fell silent.
The woman in burgundy stepped forward again. “I am Celeste, your second-in-command. We… welcome the Luna.”
Dominic gave a stiff nod. “Ariana is not to be questioned. Her place is here. End of story.”
Ariana could feel the hatred in the room.
Some glared at her.
Some simply refused to look at her at all.
She was the outsider.
The intruder.
The human girl who wore the Luna’s title like stolen jewels.
Dominic took her hand and began leading her deeper into the hall, toward a stage-like platform. There was a golden chair there—a throne.
He turned her toward the crowd.
“You all know the traditions,” he announced. “A Luna must be marked in front of the pack.”
Ariana’s blood ran cold.
“What?” she whispered, panic bubbling in her throat.
Dominic didn’t answer.
Instead, he tilted her chin up, his fingers firm.
“Look at me.”
She looked.
His eyes held no warmth, no hesitation.
Then, in front of everyone, he leaned down and sank his fangs into the side of her neck.
Ariana let out a sharp gasp, pain lacing through her skin and straight into her bones.
He was claiming her.
Marking her.
Making sure no wolf could ever touch her.
When he pulled back, blood dripped from his lips.
The mark was red, raw, and blazing like fire.
Her knees buckled slightly, but he held her steady.
The room remained dead silent.
It was done.
She was now marked as his.
Owned in every possible way.
He turned to the crowd. “If anyone disrespects her, they disrespect me. And you know what that means.”
No one dared to speak.
Dominic walked her off the stage and out of the hall.
Back in the car, Ariana pressed a hand to her neck. It throbbed.
“You marked me,” she whispered.
He said nothing.
“You didn’t even ask—”
“I don’t need permission to claim what’s mine.”
Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
“You don’t even know me.”
Dominic finally turned to her, his gaze dangerous. “I don’t need to know you. I own you.”
The words struck her like a slap.
But beneath all the cruelty, she saw something flicker in his eyes. Something buried deep.
Fear?
Pain?
Guilt?
She didn’t know.
But she would find out.
Because if she was trapped in his world… she might as well understand the monster who ruled it.
Even if it broke her.
- Writer
