FATED TO BE HIS

CHAPTER ONE ARIEL’S POV Tonight, my life was going to change. I knew it because I could sense it. I didn't even know how, but I felt it in my bones as certainly as I would if a fire had been lit and set across my body. I had just come of age—and now I stood, awaiting my fate like the other omegas who, like me, were dressed in flowing white silk that clung to our bodies like a whispered promise of what was to come… My feet were bare against the cold marble floor and my hands were clenched tightly at my sides. I was nervous. Around me, the scent of anticipation lingered in the air mixed with the heady scent of vanilla and lavender. The unmistakable fragrance of young women waiting to be chosen. But none of their scents were as potent as mine. I felt it. And strangely enough, I could tell he felt it too. Renard. Our soon-to-be Alpha. The man who would ruin me. A shiver raced down my spine as my wolf stirred inside me at that thought. She was restless, and… excited, even. Unlike me, she didn’t understand the depth of what this meant—only that she was drawn to power, and dominance, and him. And Renard was the epitome of them all. I dared a glance at the dais where he sat, watching. Assessing. His eyes were sharp and piercing, their color appearing a dark amber under the glow of the candlelit hall. He was devastatingly beautiful in the way all Alphas were. Strong. Commanding. Dangerous… The golden cuff on his bicep gleamed as he shifted in his throne-like chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the carved wood impatiently. He was… bored. Wow. But then again… when was he not? His lips that were sculpted into something akin to a scowl barely moved as his Beta leaned in to whisper something to him. It didn't matter what it was, because then, those eyes were locked on me. And then, a slow, deliberate smile curved his lips in a way that reminded me of a wolf readying to pounce. His gaze flicked over me from head to toe and such... intense perusal set my blood thrumming in my veins. I swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to lower my gaze. But I didn't. ‘Good girl’, my wolf purred. She was reckless! Foolish. Tempted. But goddess, so was I! The room hushed, thick with expectation as he c****d his head… in consideration? He was weighing his options. Unlike me, almost every other single omega here had spent years preparing for this moment. Hoping, praying—to be noticed by their future Alpha. To be the one he picks. Even if only for a night. Because Renard never kept a woman for longer than that. He had a manic reputation. He took them. Ruined them. And when he was done, he cast them away like wilted petals from a crushed rose! And foolishly, they cried for more! Deep down, I was afraid. I didn't want such a fate for myself either, but…I could no sooner deny the heat curling in my belly than I could deny the fact that I was still… embarrassingly, a virgin. I was in for a load of hurt. His eyes narrowed on me again, and they did something strange. They darkened even more and his nostrils flared ever so slightly. Oh f**k, I knew what that look meant. He’d caught my scent. And I knew—I just knew—that my fate was sealed. His jaw tensed, his fingers stilling before tightening against the wood. He leaned forward, his gaze hooded, unreadable. A silent command passed between us, and then, as I let out a slow exhale, a finger of his lifted. And it pointed at me. He'd made his choice. A ripple of shock moved through the room, hushed whispers and envious glares following in its wake. I didn’t move. Not until the guards stepped forward, their firm hands guiding me toward the dais, toward him. My legs felt unsteady, my body betraying me with the way my pulse quickened. My wolf pressed against my skin, eager, thrilled. ‘This is it,’ she hummed, her voice a mixture of anticipation and smug satisfaction. ‘We’re his.’ I wished I could ignore the way my stomach clenched at the thought. Because I knew the truth. He may take me. Claim me. But come morning, he would cast me aside. My heart pounded so loudly I feared he could hear it. The scent of burning cedar and something... spicy and decidedly manly filled the space. His scent. It drowned out every other thought and my wolf stirred within me—more restless now—but also eager and… wary. I was here. In his room. He'd chosen me and before the night ended, I'd be his in every way that counted. Renard stood near the bed, his silhouette tall and imposing. A predator at ease in his domain. His sharp green-gray eyes raked over me with quiet possession, the kind that left no room for uncertainty. He had picked me from the parade, singled me out with nothing more than a tilt of his head and a wordless command. And now, I was his for the taking. I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My hands clenched the silk fabric of my nightdress in a feeble attempt to ground myself, but it did little to steady my racing heart. The tension was suffocating. I had known this moment would come, been prepared for it almost all my life—yet, standing before him now, I felt so small. So… breakable. "Undress," he said, promptly. There was no hesitation or softness in his tone and the authority in his voice was even harder to ignore. My breath caught. There'd be no delays, then. I bit my lips indecisively, my traitorous wolf whimpering, likely torn between submission and the sharp thrill of being desired by someone like him. He was power incarnate—Alpha-to-be, ruthless, untouchable. And yet, tonight, he had chosen me. Fingers trembling, I reached for the ties of my gown. The silk slid down my arms, pooling at my feet in a whisper of fabric. Cool air brushed over my exposed skin, and I fought the urge to cover myself. My body was taut with anticipation, every inch of me hyper aware of his scrutiny. A slow, satisfied hum escaped him as he stepped forward, closing the distance between us in measured strides. His heat engulfed me before his touch did, the raw energy of his presence pressing into me like a second skin. A finger lifted my chin, forcing my gaze to his. "You smell sweet," he murmured, voice deep, threaded with approval. His other hand trailed down my bare shoulders leaving a line of fire in its wake. My breath shuddered out. He leaned in, his lips barely ghosting over the shell of my ear. "Are you afraid?" Yes! No. I didn’t know. "I don’t—" My voice wavered, my throat thick with unspoken words. I shook my head no. He chuckled, dark amusement curling in his tone. “Liar.” His hands framed my waist, pulling me flush against his body, the hard ridges of him pressing against my softness. A gasp spilled from me at the sudden contact, heat pooling low in my belly. My wolf stirred again, this time with hunger. A foreign, aching need that wasn't completely mine unfurled inside me, something primal and instinctual. “Your body knows who I am,” he murmured against my throat, his breath hot on my skin. “It recognizes mine.” A shiver racked through me as his lips pressed just beneath my jaw, slowly, testing. Then his mouth trailed lower, grazing over the delicate skin of my collarbone. My fingers found his shoulders, clutching instinctively, seeking something solid to hold onto as he explored me with calculated patience. I should feel ashamed. Or frightened. Instead, all I felt was him. His fingers skimmed down my spine, sending jolts of pleasure through me, and I arched into him, helpless to the sensations unraveling inside me. “Good girl,” he breathed, the praise igniting something hot and reckless in my core. Then, suddenly, I was airborne. A startled yelp escaped me as he lifted me effortlessly, carrying me to his bed. The furs beneath me were warm, plush against my fevered skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his body as he settled over me. His weight was a brand, his dominance an unspoken promise. He would take me. And I would surrender. Renard’s eyes held mine as he parted my legs, his hands rough yet reverent as they mapped my body. He moved with deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment, drawing out the tension until I was trembling beneath him. And then, finally, he claimed me. Pain and pleasure collided in a sharp, dizzying sensation, and I cried out, my nails digging into his back. He stilled for a moment, his breath ragged, giving me time to adjust before pulling back, then thrusting again. Deeper. Harder. I broke. My wolf howled inside me, wild and untamed, responding to his strength, his dominance. Renard moved with punishing precision, every stroke igniting something raw and overwhelming. His hands gripped my thighs, angling me to take him deeper, to take all of him. “Mine,” he growled against my lips, swallowing my gasps, my cries. It sounded like more than a claim. It was also a warning. He was relentless, unyielding, driving me toward something vast and shattering. My body tightened, coiling, burning. My nails raked over his skin, my back arching as the pleasure crested, white-hot and all-consuming. And when I came undone beneath him, his name spilled from my lips—breathless and broken. He followed moments later, his body tensing, a guttural groan escaping him as he found his own release. For a moment, there was only silence, our breaths mingling, our bodies tangled. And then, just as I thought the night was over, Renard's lips found my ear and his voice was a promise, a demand. “Let’s go again.”