Ch 1-10

Summary

🌶️ She needed to marry the MONSTER. “I love him,” I whispered. The words cut through the silence, sharp and unforgiving. Caelum’s jaw ticked, his green eyes burning into mine. “I know.” “Then why are you acting like this?” His laugh was dark. Rough. “Because I love you too, Eve. And it’s fucking killing me.” Eve Montrose, daughter of a powerful Alpha, was never supposed to marry Caelum Alaric—the ruthless Alpha feared as the Monster. But when war threatened her pack, she had no choice. Forced into a bond with a man she despised, she swore to hate him forever. Until she didn’t. Because somewhere between his brutal touch and his unexpected protectiveness, between the war they fought and the nights he spent whispering her name, Eve fell in love with him. She convinced herself it was fate. That her true mate—the one destined for her—was dead. But fate is cruel. Because Gavriel Thorn, the mate she thought she lost, is alive. And now she’s bound to both of them. Torn between duty, love, and a prophecy that demands sacrifice, Eve must decide: break the bond, choose one… or defy destiny and claim them both.

Chapter 1

POV: Eve

“No.” My voice is barely more than a whisper, but it echoes through my father’s office like a death sentence.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. Just stares at me with that unyielding, calculating gaze—the gaze of a man who has already made his decision.

“No,” I say again, louder this time, my chest tightening until I can barely breathe. “You can’t make me do this.”

“It’s already done.”

The words hit me harder than a slap. My knees nearly buckle.

“No.” My head shakes violently, as if sheer force can undo his decision. “No, you don’t understand, you can’t—”

“I understand perfectly,” he says, voice cold as steel. “You are my daughter, and you will do what is necessary for this pack.”

My stomach turns. My hands tremble. I feel like the floor is crumbling beneath me, and no matter how hard I try to grab onto something—anything—I keep falling.

“You’re selling me,” I choke out, voice raw. “Selling me to a monster.”

A flicker of something crosses his face—guilt, maybe. Regret. But it vanishes as quickly as it appeared. “I am securing our future.”

I let out a strangled laugh, high-pitched and broken. “Our future?” My heart is beating so fast it hurts. “No, this is about you. About your alliance, your power, your damn silver mine.”

His jaw tightens. “It’s about keeping you alive.”

Something sharp and icy slides through my ribs. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” His voice lowers, steady, merciless. “Do you have any idea what’s coming? What will happen if we don’t secure this alliance?”

“I don’t care!” The words rip from me, and I don’t even realize I’m screaming until my throat burns. “I don’t care what happens to this pack if it means throwing me to him.”

Caelum Alaric.

The name alone sends bile up my throat.

The Alpha of the Shadowfang Pack. A man whispered about in fear. A man whose name is soaked in blood.

A man who killed his own mate.

My breath shudders.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.

“I’ll run,” I whisper, barely able to form the words. “I’ll leave before you can—”

“You won’t.”

His certainty makes me sick.

I spin toward the door, but before I can take a single step, two guards step inside, blocking my path.

A cage. I’m in a cage.

And there is no way out.

A sob wrenches from my chest, but I swallow it down. I won’t break. I won’t.

I stare at my father, my vision blurred with unshed tears. “I will never love him.”

He exhales, a shadow of something sad in his gaze. “I’m not asking you to.”

That should be a relief.

It isn’t.

Because love isn’t the worst thing that could happen in a marriage like this.

Survival is.

“Why him?” My voice wavered, but I didn’t care.

I stood before my father, my hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms as if pain could anchor me to reality. Because surely, this couldn’t be real.

“Why the monster?” I spat the word out like poison, shaking my head in disbelief. “Caelum Alaric killed his mate—the one the Moon chose for him. How do you expect me to believe this isn’t a death sentence?”

My father exhaled, rubbing a hand over his weary face. He had aged in the last few months—more lines, more shadows beneath his eyes. But sympathy wouldn’t sway me. Not when he was selling me to a man feared across every border.

“It’s not a death sentence,” he said, his voice low, controlled, as if he were holding something back. “It’s an alliance. One that will keep you—and all of us—alive.”

I let out a bitter laugh, stepping back. “Alive? You think I’ll be alive tied to him? He doesn’t want me, father! I’ll be nothing to him.”

He sighed. “He gave me his word—”

“His word?” I cut him off, my blood turning to ice. “His word means nothing. A man like him doesn’t make promises. He takes. He destroys.”

My father’s gaze sharpened, his patience thinning. “You don’t know him, Eve.”

“And neither do you!” I shot back, my chest heaving. ”What did he threaten you with? What did he offer you to make you throw me to him like this?”

His expression hardened, his jaw tightening like stone. ”I did this to protect you.“

“Then let me reject him,” I whispered. “Let me refuse. I have a choice—”

“You don’t.”

The finality in his tone sucked the air from my lungs.

“You don’t understand, Eve,” he said, softer this time, but no less firm. ”Rejecting him is the death sentence. Not just for you—but for us. All of us.”

I shook my head, my mind racing. “You think Caelum Alaric would slaughter an entire pack over me?”

My father didn’t blink.

And that’s when I knew.

That’s when I understood the weight of my fate.

Caelum would.

He could.

And he’d do it without blinking.

A slow, crushing dread settled in my chest, pressing, squeezing, making it impossible to breathe. There was no escape. No way out.

I could refuse and watch my family, my people, my entire pack burn.

Or I could marry the monster and pray that he didn’t destroy me.

I felt my father’s hand on my shoulder, his touch heavy with unspoken words. “I know this isn’t fair. But it’s the only way.”

Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. If this was my fate, I wouldn’t break—not here, not now.

I lifted my chin, swallowing back the sob in my throat.

“Then I hope you’re right,” I whispered. “Because if you’re wrong, you’ve just condemned me to a fate worse than death.”

And with that, I turned away—because if I looked at him for one more second, I’d shatter.

The door to my chamber is locked.

I know because I tried. I rattled the handle until my fingers ached, slammed my fists against the heavy oak until my arms were weak. No one came. No one listened.

I am a prisoner in my own home.

My bed is covered in gowns, cloaks, and furs, neatly folded by the servants my father sent in earlier. Pack your things. You leave today.

Today.

A hollow, twisting feeling takes root in my chest. This morning, I thought I had time. Maybe days, maybe weeks. A chance to fight back. But my father never intended to give me one. My fate was sealed long before I was even called into that hall.

I swallow past the lump in my throat, my hands tightening into fists. I don’t pack because I want to go. I do it because I refuse to let anyone else do it for me.

A knock sounds at the door.

It isn’t hesitant. It’s a command.

The handle turns, and this time, the door isn’t locked. Two guards step inside, their expressions impassive.

“It is time,” one of them says.

I don’t move. My heart hammers so violently it hurts.

I don’t want to go. I want to fight, to claw and scream until my voice is raw. But I know the truth. I’ve known it from the moment my father made his decision.

I lost before I ever had the chance to fight.

So I lift my chin, square my shoulders, and walk out that door like I am the one in control.

Like this isn’t my execution.

The great hall is cold when I step inside. The air is heavy with silence, thick with something unspoken.

And then I see him.

Caelum Alaric stands near the center of the chamber, his posture rigid as my father speaks to him in low tones. He does not look at me at first, but his presence is suffocating, undeniable.

Tall. Broad. A predator at rest.

His tunic is black, lined with silver thread, the heavy cloak around his shoulders giving him the air of a ruler untouched by fear. A sword rests at his hip, its hilt worn from use, but there is no doubt in my mind that he could kill with his hands just as easily.

Then there are his eyes.

Not just green. Sharp. Ruthless. Like blades forged from ice.

Something tightens in my chest.

Then his gaze shifts to me.

And I understand why people fear him.

The stories have followed him like shadows—whispers of an Alpha with no mercy, a beast of war who cut down his own mate and spilled the blood of his closest friend.

And now, I am to be his wife.

“Eve,” my father says. “Come forward.”

I force my legs to move. Each step is measured, even as my pulse pounds like war drums beneath my skin. When I reach them, I lift my chin, staring Caelum down.

“I don’t want this,” I say. My voice is steady.

A flicker of something passes through his gaze, too brief to name.

“She is… resistant,” my father murmurs. “She will learn.”

I snap my head toward him. “Tell me, Father, what of my true mate? What if he is out there?”

Silence.

Caelum speaks first.

“He isn’t.”

The finality in his tone makes my stomach drop. “You don’t know that.”

“I do.” His voice is calm, unwavering. “He is dead.”

It shouldn’t hurt. I should not care. But the words hit like a blade between my ribs.

“You’re lying.”

No emotion flickers across his face. “I have no reason to.”

My throat tightens, rage bubbling beneath my skin. “And what of your mate, Alpha? You killed her, didn’t you?”

A sharp, suffocating silence falls over the hall.

Caelum doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch.

Then, slowly, he tilts his head. “Yes.”

A chill races down my spine. I expect my father to interfere, to scold me for daring to challenge the man who now owns me. But he doesn’t.

It is Caelum who steps closer. Not by much—just enough that I have to tip my chin up further to meet his gaze.

“If you killed her,” I say, forcing steel into my voice, “then what is to stop you from killing me?”

I expect him to smirk. To mock me.

Instead, his expression remains unreadable.

“I won’t.”

Two words. Cold. Absolute.

A bitter laugh escapes me. “Just like that? I am to trust the word of a man who let the world believe he murdered his own mate?”

“Yes.”

My pulse stutters. There is no hesitation in his voice.

“My marriage to you is an alliance, not a death sentence,” Caelum continues, his voice like carved stone. “You are of value to me. I have no reason to harm you. You will have safety. Comfort. A place at my side.”

A shiver skates down my spine. Not from fear.

From something else.

Something I refuse to name.

“It is time,” my father cuts in.

Caelum extends his hand.

It is large, strong—scarred in places, though the rest of him is perfectly composed.

I stare at it. Then at him.

I could refuse. Could let this moment stretch into a battle of wills. But what would it change?

So I lift my hand.

The moment our palms meet, a shock runs up my arm, burning through my chest like wildfire.

His grip tightens, just slightly. Enough to tell me this is happening.

He is taking me with him.

And there is no going back.

---

Caelum

Chapter 2

POV: Eve

The journey was silent except for the steady rhythm of hooves against dirt. I sat stiffly in the carriage, staring at the shifting landscape outside. My hands curled into fists in my lap, nails digging into my palms. I had spent the first hour simmering in rage, and now all that was left was a hollow kind of exhaustion.

Caelum rode beside the carriage on a massive black horse, his posture straight, his face unreadable. He hadn’t spoken a word to me since we left my father’s lands. Not that I had expected him to.

I stole a glance at him, hating that my eyes lingered. He looked exactly how the rumors described—cold, ruthless, a monster in a man’s skin. But what I hadn’t expected was just how striking he was. His face was sharp, all carved angles and rigid lines, his jaw set in an unyielding expression. The wind tousled his dark brown hair, the strands falling into his green eyes—eyes as sharp and cutting as a blade of ice.

A beautiful monster. A dangerous one.

I turned away quickly, disgusted with myself for noticing. He was the reason I was being ripped from my home, the reason I was leaving behind everything I had ever known.

And yet, something gnawed at the edge of my thoughts—an unease that had nothing to do with my own anger.

Why hadn’t he said anything? He could have gloated, reminded me of my place, wielded his power like a weapon. But he remained quiet, unreadable. I wanted to believe it was indifference, that I was nothing more than another pawn in his plans. But if that were true, why had I caught him watching me once or twice, his gaze lingering for just a second too long?

The gates of the Shadowfang Pack loomed ahead, tall iron structures lined with dark banners that rippled in the wind. My chest tightened as we crossed into his territory.

This was it.

The people of the pack stood at the edges of the dirt road, silent as we passed. Their eyes followed me, their expressions cautious, uncertain. They had likely heard the rumors about me, just as I had about Caelum.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the massive stone fortress at the heart of the pack. The doors swung open, and a sharp gust of wind hit me as I stepped out. Caelum dismounted effortlessly, handing the reins of his horse to a waiting guard before turning to me.

His gaze was piercing. “Come.”

I lifted my chin, refusing to shrink beneath his command. The tension in my shoulders only grew as I followed him inside. The halls were dimly lit, the walls lined with torches that cast flickering shadows. Everything felt colder here, sharper.

Caelum led me through the winding corridors until we reached a large set of doors. He pushed them open, revealing a spacious chamber. The air inside was warm, the fire in the hearth crackling softly.

“This is your room,” he said.

I blinked. Your room. Not ours.

I stepped inside warily, my gaze sweeping over the massive bed, the thick furs, the elegant yet practical furnishings. My stomach twisted as I realized there was another door—slightly ajar—leading into what I could only assume was his chamber.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” I snapped, crossing my arms.

Caelum didn’t react. “I never expected you to.”

That startled me. I had braced myself for an argument, for a reminder that I was his now, whether I wanted it or not.

Instead, he only gestured toward the smaller chamber. “This room connects to mine. You will sleep here.”

I hated that a flicker of relief coursed through me, quickly followed by wariness. “And why do you need me so close?”

His expression remained unreadable, but there was something beneath it, something unreadable in the way his jaw clenched for just a second before he spoke.

“To ensure your safety.”

I scoffed. “My safety? That’s rich, coming from a man who murdered his first mate.”

For the first time, something flickered across his face—something unreadable, something dark. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by that cold, unshaken mask.

“You’ll be safe here,” he repeated, his voice low. Then, without another word, he turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

I let out a slow breath, my chest tight.

Safe.

I didn’t believe that for a second.

I unpacked slowly, my hands moving on their own. There was no point in fighting anymore—not now, not when the decision had already been made for me. My dresses smelled like home, the faint traces of lavender and chamomile clinging to the fabric. But that scent was already fading, swallowed by the cold, unfamiliar air of Shadowfang.

I folded them carefully, placing them in the dark wooden dresser against the wall. The room felt too big, too quiet. Too empty.

A sigh slipped from my lips as I turned toward the window, letting my eyes drift over the landscape. It was different from my father’s land. No sprawling fields, no gardens filled with wildflowers. Just deep forests, jagged mountains in the distance, and the distant glow of torchlights illuminating the village below.

I missed home. I missed the scent of blooming flowers, the soft soil beneath my feet, the early morning training sessions that always left me breathless but alive. Maybe there was a training ground here. Maybe I could ask someone—if they even let me train. I already felt like an outsider. A prisoner.

Maybe I could at least find a library. Books had always been a comfort, a way to escape even when my own life felt like a cage.

Hours passed, the silence stretching on, suffocating.

Then the door opened.

Caelum stepped inside, his presence filling the space instantly. He didn’t say anything at first, just closed the door behind him and walked toward me, something glinting in his hand.

A blade.

Small, curved, with intricate runes carved into the steel. It pulsed faintly, almost as if it were alive.

My stomach twisted. “What is that?”

His green eyes locked onto mine. “A binding dagger.”

I took a step back. “A what?”

Caelum exhaled, as if bracing himself for my reaction. “You need to be marked.”

Ice filled my veins. “Marked?”

“It’s the custom of my pack,” he said, voice even, unreadable. “Every member bears a mark. A claim.”

I stiffened. “Like a fucking collar?”

His jaw twitched, but he didn’t deny it.

“No.” I shook my head, stepping farther away. “You’re insane if you think I’ll let you brand me like some—some property.”

“It’s necessary.”

“Necessary?” My voice rose. “For who? For you?”

Caelum took another step forward. I tried to run, but I barely made it a step before strong hands grabbed me—one of his guards.

“No,” I snarled, thrashing against the grip. “Let me go!”

Caelum approached me slowly, dagger in hand, his face blank as stone.

“You bastard,” I spat. “You monster.”

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t react at all.

I fought, twisting, kicking—but the guard held firm. And then the blade pressed against my skin, just below my collarbone.

A sharp sting, then a searing heat.

I screamed.

It wasn’t deep. It wasn’t even that painful. But it burned. Burned like something ancient, something powerful. My skin tingled where the mark was carved, the magic settling deep into my bones.

And through it all, Caelum didn’t so much as blink.

I hated him in that moment. Hated the cold indifference on his face, the way he wielded his power as if my pain meant nothing.

When it was done, he stepped back, tucking the dagger away.

The guard released me, and I stumbled, clutching the raw, tender skin.

Caelum said nothing as he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

I stood there, trembling, breath ragged.

Sometime later, a woman entered, carrying a tray of food. I barely registered her presence as she set it on the table—a spread of roasted meats, thick grains, dark bread.

The scents were foreign, heavy. Different from the light meals I was used to back home—fresh fruit, honeyed oats, soft cheeses.

I wasn’t hungry anymore.

I left the food untouched, curling up in the large bed, burying myself beneath the furs.

But sleep didn’t come easily. The room was too still. Too quiet.

And Caelum’s scent was everywhere.

It clung to the sheets, to the air, deep and woodsy, laced with something sharp, like steel.

I hated that I noticed it.

I hated him.

A knock at the door. I clenched my jaw, curling tighter into myself.

It opened anyway.

Caelum stood in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the dim light of the hallway.

He didn’t step inside.

“Is it hurting?” His voice was low, quiet.

I turned my head slightly, just enough to glare at him. “It’s fine.”

A pause.

Then, “I had to do it.”

“No,” I said, my voice sharp, cold. “You chose to do it.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t defend himself.

“I’ll have medicine sent in the morning.”

“Don’t bother,” I snapped. “You already did what you wanted. You marked me like I was yours.”

Another silence. Then he exhaled.

“If you were mine,” he murmured, “I wouldn’t have needed the mark.”

Then he was gone.

And I hated the way my chest ached at his words.

Chapter 3

POV: Eve

I heard the door open behind me, but I didn’t turn. I kept my eyes on the wall, my body curled beneath the furs, pretending I was asleep.

I knew it was Caelum.

His footsteps were slow, deliberate, as he moved into the room. The soft creak of wood, the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted. And then a pause—long enough that I could picture him standing there, taking in the untouched tray of food.

“You didn’t eat.”

His voice was quiet, but not soft. It carried through the space, cutting through the silence like a blade.

I swallowed, my throat dry. “I wasn’t hungry.”

A moment of silence. Then, “You should eat.”

I turned my head slightly, just enough to glare at him. He stood by the table, his gaze flicking from the food to me, unreadable as ever.

“I’m not used to it,” I admitted, voice low. “The food here… it’s different.”

He studied me, his green eyes sharp, searching.

“I grew up with fresh fruit,” I said, my voice betraying more than I wanted. “Honeyed oats, baked bread, soft cheeses. My pack had gardens, fields full of wildflowers. But here…” My gaze drifted to the cold stone walls, the vast emptiness of the land outside. “Here, it’s just… different.”

Caelum didn’t respond right away. He didn’t say I was being foolish, didn’t tell me to get used to it. Instead, he walked to the fireplace.

I watched, confused, as he knelt and stoked the embers. A moment later, a flame flickered to life, spreading warmth into the cold room.

I should have been grateful. Instead, I felt uneasy.

Because this was wrong.

This wasn’t how monsters behaved.

“You should be comfortable,” he said, standing. “This is your home now.”

I swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way his voice made something twist inside me.

He moved toward the table, reaching into his pocket. A small glass vial glinted in his palm. “For the pain,” he said simply, setting it down beside the untouched tray. “And an ointment for the mark.”

I stiffened. My fingers brushed the sore skin near my collarbone, where the rune still tingled with residual heat.

His gaze lingered there for half a second before he stepped back.

“I’ll be in my chamber,” he said. “The door will stay open. If you need anything… call for me.”

I said nothing as he turned to leave.

But my eyes betrayed me.

Because I watched him go.

Watched the way his shirt, loose and unbuttoned at the top, revealed a hint of sculpted muscle. Watched the way his shoulders moved, powerful even in rest.

I hated that I noticed.

I hated that my pulse quickened when he turned slightly before disappearing into his room.

I exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down my face. He’s your captor. A monster. Remember that.

But that monster had just stoked my fire. Had left medicine for my pain. Had told me to call for him if I needed anything.

I changed into a nightgown, the soft fabric cool against my skin. As I moved, I felt his gaze.

I turned my head just in time to catch it—just in time to see him watching me from his chamber.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

His jaw clenched, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard.

And then he turned away, retreating into the shadows.

I didn’t know why my chest felt tight.

I didn’t know why I hated the fact that I had noticed his eyes on me.

I crawled into bed, but sleep didn’t come easily. Not with the faint scent of him lingering in the air—dark, woodsy, something sharp underneath.

It was a long time before I finally drifted off.

—

The scent of fruit woke me.

I blinked, sunlight streaming through the window, casting soft golden hues across the room. And then my gaze fell to the table.

A tray of food.

Not the heavy, unfamiliar meals from last night. But fresh fruit—sliced apples, ripe berries, warm honeyed oats, and soft bread.

And beside it, a small vase.

With flowers.

I stared at them, my breath catching in my throat.

He listened.

Caelum had listened.

I didn’t know how to feel about that.

I didn’t touch the food at first.

I just stared at it.

At the tray, at the fresh fruit that shouldn’t be here. At the honeyed oats, warm and familiar. At the delicate vase with soft white flowers—lilies.

I should have felt triumphant. I had complained, and he had listened. But instead, a strange unease coiled in my stomach.

Because monsters weren’t supposed to listen.

And yet, he had.

I forced myself to eat, though the food tasted strange in my mouth. Not because it was bad—on the contrary, it was perfect. Just like home. And that was the problem.

I didn’t want home to exist here.

When I finished, I pushed the tray away and stood, pacing the room.

I felt restless. The walls of my chamber felt too tight, the air too thick. I needed out.

I found myself walking toward his chamber before I could second-guess it. His door was still open, just as he had promised, and the room beyond was dark, the heavy curtains drawn. I hesitated, but then took a breath and stepped closer.

“Caelum.”

Silence.

Then movement. A slow inhale, a shift of fabric.

He emerged from the shadows, his green eyes glinting in the dim light. He had dressed fully again—black tunic, dark leather, tall boots. Power coiled around him effortlessly, a silent warning and an unspoken promise.

“I need to walk,” I said, lifting my chin. “I don’t want to stay locked in here.”

His gaze flicked over me, assessing.

“You’re free to walk inside the pack house.”

I crossed my arms. “I want to walk outside.”

His expression remained unreadable. “With guards.”

I clenched my jaw. “I don’t need guards.”

He took a step closer, tilting his head slightly. “You might not. I do.”

Something about the way he said it sent a chill through me.

His voice was quiet, but absolute.

He wasn’t asking for my permission. He was telling me how this would be.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to fight. But something in his expression—something cold and unwavering—made me stop.

I exhaled sharply, dropping my arms. “Fine.”

He nodded once, satisfied. “You may also visit the library.”

That caught me off guard.

I hadn’t expected him to say yes so easily.

“And the training grounds?” I asked carefully.

His expression didn’t change. “If you wish.”

I blinked.

I had prepared for a fight. A refusal. But instead, he had just… allowed it.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.

Caelum’s gaze remained steady, sharp as ever. “I told you, Eve. You’re not a prisoner.”

I almost laughed. I wasn’t?

Then why did it still feel like these walls were closing in? Like my choices weren’t really my own?

But I swallowed my bitterness and nodded.

Because it wasn’t freedom, but it was something.

And right now, I would take anything I could get.

His green eyes locked on me with unreadable intensity. He looked like a king surveying his new property. And I hated that I was the property.

“Look, Eve,” he said, his voice calm, measured, as if he were talking to a skittish animal. “This is a marriage of alliance, for the best of the packs.”

I clenched my jaw. I knew this. I knew every cold, calculated reason behind this forced union. But hearing him say it, so detached, so indifferent—it made my stomach twist.

“But it doesn’t mean I want you to be miserable.”

I blinked, caught off guard.

“You should feel comfortable here, at home.”

I let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “At home?” I echoed, shaking my head. “I was dragged here against my will. I left everything behind. Forgive me if I don’t exactly feel comfortable.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like he was testing how much distance I’d allow between us.

“You don’t need to touch me, or love me,” he continued. “You just need to be my Luna.”

The words should have been reassuring. They weren’t.

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. “So that’s it? A title? A role to play?” I met his gaze, searching for something—anything—human beneath the cold, calculated façade. “What happens if I fail? If I don’t meet your expectations?”

His expression didn’t change. “You won’t fail.”

I exhaled sharply, frustration curling in my chest. ”You don’t know that.“

His gaze darkened, his posture shifting slightly, a subtle ripple of dominance rolling off him. “I know you’re strong,” he said, his voice lower now, quieter. “I know you won’t break.”

Something in the way he said it made my breath catch.

Because it wasn’t just an observation. It was a challenge.

A statement. A command.

I should have hated him more for it. But instead, something twisted deep in my stomach.

I shook my head, trying to clear the tangled mess of emotions inside me. ”I don’t want this, Caelum.“

He was silent for a long moment. Then, he sighed. “Neither do I.”

His honesty was unexpected. Unsettling.

And it left me with no more weapons, no more arguments.

I was trapped.

So I lifted my chin, straightened my spine, and met his gaze head-on. “Then I guess we’re both prisoners in this, aren’t we?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t deny it.

I turned away before he could say anything else, before he could see the war raging inside me.

Because if I had to survive this, I couldn’t afford to let him see me break.

Not yet.

Not ever.

Chapter 4

POV: Eve

I wasn’t sure what I expected when I stepped into the halls of the Shadowfang Pack. Cold indifference, maybe. Fear. Resentment.

But what I saw was happiness.

People moved through the stone corridors, talking and laughing, their voices warm and easy. A pair of children ran past me, giggling as they weaved between the adults. A woman in an apron stepped out of a room carrying fresh bread, its scent warm and sweet, like something out of a dream.

This wasn’t what a monster’s pack should look like.

Yet here they were—content. Even thriving.

I kept walking, feeling their gazes shift toward me. Not in suspicion, not in fear—but in curiosity. Some nodded in greeting. Others murmured, “Luna,” with surprising warmth.

Luna.

The word slid through the air like a blade, clean and sharp.

I barely reacted on the outside—just a flicker of my lashes, a tightening of my fingers at my sides—but inside, something twisted. A name. A title. A role I never wanted, never asked for. And yet, here it was, settling over me like a cloak too heavy to bear.

They looked at me with expectation, with silent acknowledgment. Luna. Their Luna.

Not because I had earned it. Not because they had chosen me. But because I had been given to their Alpha.

My stomach coiled. Did they resent me? Did they pity me?

I swallowed, forcing my spine straight, my expression unreadable. If this was my fate, I would wear it like armor.

Even if, deep inside, it felt like chains.

I didn’t understand it.

They liked him.

They respected him.

The cruel, heartless Alpha who had forced me into marriage, who had marked me as his own, who had taken away my choice.

I pressed a hand to my collarbone, my fingers brushing the mark. A symbol of belonging, of loyalty. And I noticed, as I passed them, that they all had one too.

Burned into their skin, just like mine.

But mine was different.

Theirs were simpler, more like a crest. But my mark was more intricate, the dagger symbol woven with something else—something I couldn’t decipher.

I forced myself to keep moving, pushing my unease aside.

The library was easy enough to find. A grand room lined with towering shelves, filled with more books than I’d ever seen in one place. The air smelled of parchment and ink, and for the first time since arriving here, I felt something loosen inside my chest.

Here, at least, I could breathe.

I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, scanning the titles. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for—maybe something about this pack, or about the mark still burning on my skin.

But as much as I loved books, today wasn’t the day for quiet study.

I needed something else.

Something that would make me feel like myself again.

The training grounds weren’t far. I found them easily enough, the sharp clang of steel and the thud of boots against packed dirt guiding me forward.

I slipped into the barracks, finding an extra set of guard’s leathers. They fit snugly, molding to my body like second skin. My fingers tightened the belt around my waist, and for the first time in days, I felt something settle inside me.

Familiar.

Comfortable.

Mine.

When I stepped onto the field, the warriors barely spared me a glance. It was a relief, really. I didn’t want special treatment—I wanted to train.

I grabbed a sword, its weight solid in my grip. My muscles remembered the motions before my mind did, falling into practiced stances, striking at invisible opponents. The rush of movement, the sting of exertion—it was freedom. I already bet one guard named Joren.

Now I sparred against one of the guards, Theris, our blades clashing, ringing through the cool air. He was strong, fast—but I was faster.

And when I finally disarmed him, knocking his sword to the dirt, I couldn’t help it—I smiled.

It felt like a victory. A stolen moment of belonging.

But as I stepped back, catching my breath, I felt him before I saw him.

A weight in the air. A presence pressing against my senses.

I turned—and found Caelum watching.

His green eyes were unreadable, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He said nothing, just observed, his expression giving nothing away.

And yet, I felt seen.

A strange feeling twisted inside me.

Because for the first time since I had been dragged into this nightmare, I felt alive again.

And I didn’t know what to do with that.

The clang of steel against steel echoed in the training yard, a rhythm I had longed for. I lost myself in the movements, in the sharp exhale of breath with each strike, in the satisfying ache of muscles long denied their purpose.

I barely noticed the warriors calling me Luna now.

At first, the word had made me bristle, a reminder of everything that had been taken from me. But now… it simply was. An inevitability, spoken with respect I wasn’t sure I deserved.

And I had something else to focus on.

The ever-present shadow of my guards.

I hadn’t realized until today that there were always at least three of them, lingering at a distance, silent but watchful. Caelum’s orders, no doubt. He wasn’t here—he had been gone all morning—but his presence loomed over me, woven into the eyes that followed my every move.

It didn’t stop me from training.

If anything, I pushed myself harder.

Sparring match after sparring match, I tested my limits, forcing myself into exhaustion, into feeling. I had spent too many days trapped in my own mind—training set me free.

After the training section, I stood under the scalding spray of the bath, letting the water wash away the sweat and frustration clinging to me.

But it couldn’t wash away him.

The way he looked at me, watched me.

The feel of his hands, the way his voice had sent a shiver down my spine, the impossible contradiction of who he was—cold, calculating and protective all at once.

I gritted my teeth, wrapping myself in a robe before slipping into the library.

Books had always been my refuge. A way to quiet the storm inside me.

I ran my fingers along the shelves, finding an old, well-loved novel. A romance.

I hadn’t meant to pick it.

I almost put it back.

But instead, I curled into a chair by the window, flipping open the pages.

And as the words unfolded before me, I tried desperately to forget the way Caelum’s voice had sounded in my ear.

---

Chapter 5

POV: Eve

I changed into a nightgown, the soft fabric brushing against my skin as I moved through the quiet halls of the pack house. The night stretched deep beyond the windows, the torches along the stone corridors casting flickering golden light. I was exhausted from training, my body aching in the best way—but my mind wouldn’t quiet.

When I reached my room, I stopped in the doorway.

Caelum was there.

Standing near the table, setting down a tray of food himself.

I had never seen him carry something so ordinary. He wasn’t a man made for such things—his hands were meant for war, for command, for destruction. And yet here he was, bringing me dinner.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice calm, unreadable.

I crossed my arms, watching him. “Didn’t know I had a curfew.”

His lips twitched like he almost smirked, but instead, he pulled out the chair for me. “You can eat in the dining hall from now on. With me. With the leaders of the pack.”

Something in my chest tightened. I wasn’t sure what surprised me more—his invitation or the fact that I liked the idea.

I hesitated before moving toward the table, sitting slowly. “You trust me to sit at your table?”

He took the seat across from me, his green eyes unreadable. “You’re my Luna. You belong there.”

That word again. Luna.

I didn’t fight it this time.

Instead, I picked at the meal—something warm, rich, carefully prepared. Better than anything I had eaten since arriving. He watched as I took a bite, like he was waiting for my reaction.

After a long silence, I said, “They call me Luna already. Your people. They seem… happy.”

Caelum leaned back slightly, exhaling. “That’s good. Their happiness matters.”

I frowned. That wasn’t the answer I expected. “You care about that?”

His jaw tightened, his gaze drifting to the flames crackling in the fireplace. “I’m their Alpha. Their lives depend on me.”

I studied him in the firelight, watching how the shadows played over his sharp, angular features. He had ruled with fear, with strength, with an unyielding presence that made others bow before him. But now, as he sat here, something in his expression softened—just for a moment.

The cracks in his armor.

“People say you rule with blood and death,” I murmured, testing him, watching for his reaction. “But they don’t seem afraid of you.”

His gaze met mine, something dark flickering in those green depths. “Fear is a tool. But it’s not the only way to lead.”

I set my fork down, searching his face. “You’re not what I expected.”

His lips pressed together, but he didn’t reply.

Something in the silence made me bolder. “They also say you killed your mate,” I said, voice quieter now. “And your Beta.”

His body went still.

Not a flinch, not a breath out of place. Just stillness.

I had expected anger, denial—something cold and sharp to shut me down. But instead, he said nothing for a long, stretched moment.

And then—

“Maybe one day you’ll understand,” he said simply.

Not a confession. Not a denial. Just that.

I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into my lap. “So it’s true?”

His gaze flickered, just for a second. “You only hear what people want to believe.”

Something about his tone—about the way his voice dipped, about the way his fingers tapped against the table once before stilling—made my heart tighten.

There was more to it. More to him.

I should have stopped there. But I couldn’t.

I shifted slightly, reaching up to brush my fingers over the mark on my collarbone. “Your people all have these,” I said, changing the subject just slightly. “But mine looks different.”

Caelum watched me, then slowly leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “Because it is different.”

I blinked, unsettled by the way his voice dipped lower. “What does it mean?”

“The marks are protection runes,” he explained, his voice smooth, steady. “Every member of my pack carries one, etched into their skin when they swear loyalty. It ties them to me. To each other. Strengthens the bond of the pack.”

I frowned, fingers still resting against the raised mark. “Then why is mine not the same?”

He exhaled, then—slowly, deliberately—reached for the collar of his own tunic.

I swallowed as he pulled it aside, revealing his collarbone.

His mark.

It was the same as mine.

My breath caught.

“It’s tied to mine,” Caelum said. “Stronger than the others. More powerful.”

I stared at the identical marks, my chest rising and falling too quickly. “Why?”

He hesitated, just for a fraction of a second. Then—

“Because you are more than just my Luna.”

The words sent a shiver through me. I had no idea what he meant by them. But the way he looked at me—the way his voice wrapped around the air between us like something undeniable—made my stomach twist.

I forced myself to look away, to steady my breathing.

This meant nothing. This was a claim, a deal. Nothing more.

But the mark on my skin tingled.

And Caelum’s eyes stayed on mine, watching, waiting, like he knew something I didn’t.

Morning light filtered through the high windows of the pack house, spilling golden streaks across the wooden floors as I made my way downstairs. The air carried the warmth of fresh bread, the savory scent of roasted meats, and the faintest trace of something sweet—honey, maybe. It was comforting, familiar in a way I hadn’t expected.

The large dining hall came into view, filled with voices, laughter, and the clatter of plates. The pack’s leadership was already gathered around the long wooden table, their conversations lively, their presence commanding. But my gaze found him instantly.

Caelum.

He stood at the head of the table, effortlessly in control without even trying. His presence alone seemed to anchor the entire room. And then—before I could hesitate—his green eyes lifted to mine.

Silence spread for a fraction of a second, subtle yet noticeable.

Then he moved.

Caelum cleared his throat, his chair scraping softly against the floor as he stood. The pack’s chatter barely faltered, but I caught the way some eyes flicked toward us, observing.

Without a word, he reached for the chair beside his. The one at his right. The Luna’s seat.

I hesitated, standing frozen at the threshold.

An invitation. A command. A statement. It was all three.

Slowly, I stepped forward, feeling the weight of every gaze as I lowered myself into the chair. Caelum waited just a beat longer before reclaiming his own seat, his movements precise, controlled.

I felt the tension in my spine, the weight of expectations pressing against me. But then… it faded.

The warmth of the room settled over me, the scent of food, the sound of laughter—the easy way the pack interacted with each other. The way they interacted with him.

I watched as one of the warriors joked about the previous night’s training, earning a deep chuckle from another leader. Caelum listened, sharp and focused, his expression betraying hints of amusement beneath his usual stoicism.

Then the conversation veered toward business—territory discussions, border patrols, alliances.

Before I could even consider it, Caelum lifted a hand.

“The table is for food and celebration,” he said, his voice even, firm, leaving no room for argument. “Work can wait.”

His words were met with grins, the tension dissolving instantly. It was such a small thing. But it made something shift in my chest.

I had spent so long thinking of him as a monster, a ruthless force of power. But here, at this table, among his people… he wasn’t just an Alpha.

He was a leader. A protector.

And maybe, just maybe—he wasn’t the monster I had feared.

Chapter 6

POV: Eve

All the time I have I spend at the library and the training camp, I wasn’t ready to admit it, but I loved that place.

The clang of metal against metal echoed through the training grounds, the crisp morning air buzzing with energy as warriors sparred around me. Sweat clung to my skin, but I welcomed the burn in my muscles. This was the only place where my mind wasn’t tangled in confusion. Here, my body moved on instinct, and I wasn’t the girl forced into a marriage with a monster—I was just a warrior, fighting, surviving.

I adjusted the grip on my sword, rolling my shoulders as I faced my current opponent, a broad-shouldered warrior named Loric. He lunged, aiming for my ribs, but I twisted at the last moment, ducking under his strike and countering with a quick swipe to his exposed side.

He grunted as my wooden sword tapped against his armor. Point for me.

The warriors around us clapped, some cheering my name—Luna. The word still felt foreign, like a title that didn’t belong to me. But I ignored it, focusing instead on my next opponent.

And then—I felt it before I saw him.

A shift in the air. A tension that coiled around my spine like a warning. Caelum.

I turned, and there he was, stepping onto the training grounds, his presence an unshakable force. But it wasn’t just him. It was the way he looked.

Gone was the dark armor, the heavy cloak that made him look more warlord than Alpha. Instead, he wore a simple training uniform, the fabric stretching over his broad chest, the sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with strength. The belt around his waist held a sheathed dagger, and the sight of him like this—like one of us—did something strange to my stomach.

The warriors straightened, some nodding in respect, others exchanging knowing glances.

He was bizarrely handsome like this. The uniform only made his sharp features more striking, his green eyes more piercing. My mouth went dry.

He walked toward me, his gaze never wavering, and then—he reached out.

My breath caught as his fingers brushed against my waist, adjusting the holster of my uniform. The touch was light, barely there, but it left a trail of fire in its wake. His voice was low, smooth, almost teasing.

“Let’s see what my Luna has for me.”

A shiver ran down my spine, but I steeled myself. He wanted to play games? Fine. I wouldn’t lose.

I stepped back, gripping my sword. “Don’t hold back.”

His smirk deepened. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The warriors around us stepped away, forming a loose circle. This was a show now.

Caelum drew his own weapon—a wooden sword like mine, but in his hands, it looked like an extension of himself.

I attacked first, moving fast, aiming a sharp strike toward his ribs. He deflected with effortless ease. Too easy.

I adjusted, shifting on my feet, striking again. Faster. Harder. He blocked every blow, his expression unreadable, his movements controlled. He was playing with me.

I gritted my teeth and changed tactics. Instead of brute force, I relied on speed, dodging and weaving, making him chase me. I could feel his eyes tracking every movement, feel the heat of his presence every time I got too close.

And then—I overstepped.

In an instant, he moved, too fast for me to react. His sword knocked mine aside, and before I could regain my footing, his arm hooked around my waist, and I was pinned.

I gasped, my back pressed against his chest, his grip unyielding but not painful. His breath brushed against my ear, sending a traitorous shiver through me.

“You let yourself get distracted, little wolf.”

I clenched my jaw, refusing to acknowledge the way my pulse thundered at his words.

I twisted, trying to break free, but his hold was iron-clad. “I’m not distracted.”

He chuckled, the sound deep, almost… indulgent. “Then why is your heart racing?”

My traitorous body burned at the accusation. He was toying with me, and worse—I was letting him.

The warriors around us hollered, some laughing, others murmuring to themselves. To them, this was entertainment—their Alpha and Luna in a battle neither of them wanted to lose.

I refused to let him win.

Using my smaller size to my advantage, I twisted sharply, breaking free of his hold. I spun, slamming my sword against his in a hard clash. He barely moved, his grip steady, his strength impossible to counter.

And then—he struck.

A calculated sweep of his leg sent me off balance, and before I knew it, he had me flat on my back, his sword at my throat, his body looming over mine.

I lost.

The crowd erupted in cheers, warriors clapping and laughing, some even calling out to Caelum in praise.

He reached down, offering me his hand.

I stared at it.

For a moment, I considered ignoring it, getting up on my own. But I hated the way my heart raced, hated the way my body still tingled where he had touched me.

So I took it.

His grip was warm and strong, and when he pulled me up, his green eyes held mine for just a second too long.

And then it was gone.

Korr, the Chief of the Guard, clapped Caelum on the back, grinning. “Damn fine match, Alpha. Luna gave you a fight.”

Caelum’s gaze never left mine as he spoke. “She did.”

I didn’t know what to do with the way his voice sounded—like he was pleased. Like he wanted me to fight him again.

I needed to get out of there.

Without another word, I turned and stormed toward the showers.

I needed to cool down.

I sank deeper into the warm water, letting it soothe the ache in my muscles. My body still buzzed from the training, but it wasn’t just from the fight itself—it was from him.

Caelum.

The way his hands had felt on me. The way his voice had slid down my spine like velvet. The way he had watched me, not just as a warrior, but as something else entirely.

I exhaled sharply, submerging myself under the water for a moment before resurfacing. I was losing my mind.

By the time I changed into a soft nightgown and made my way back to my chambers, I felt more composed—at least on the surface. But that fragile control wavered the moment I stepped inside.

Caelum was there.

He stood near the fireplace, his broad frame partially illuminated by the flickering light. He wasn’t in his training uniform anymore. Instead, he wore a loose black shirt, the collar slightly open, exposing the sharp cut of his collarbone. He looked relaxed, but I knew better.

The moment he turned and saw me, his gaze dragged over my nightgown—slow, deliberate. I felt the heat of it, a scorching trail over my skin.

But he said nothing.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as I took another step inside. The fire crackled softly, the only sound in the heavy silence stretching between us.

Caelum’s green eyes held mine, unreadable yet intense, and I knew—if I turned away now, if I put up a wall, he would let me. He always did.

But tonight… I didn’t want to.

I shifted slightly, my fingers grazing the edge of my nightgown. Not in a deliberate way—just enough for me to feel the fine fabric against my skin, the reminder of how thin it was, how vulnerable I suddenly felt under his gaze.

His jaw tightened. Just the slightest movement.

“You were impressive today,” he said, his voice rough, like he’d been holding back the words for too long.

A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding left my lips. “I trained to be.”

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, barely there, but enough to make my stomach flip. “You fight like you have something to prove.”

I tilted my chin up. “I do.”

Silence. His gaze didn’t waver. Neither did mine.

Then he moved. Not toward me, but enough to make the space between us shrink. His head tilted slightly, studying me like I was something he wanted to understand.

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me, Eve.” His voice was lower now, softer. “You never did.”

Something in my chest clenched, unexpected and sharp.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to.

So, instead, to prevent me from doing something reckless like my body was trying to, I just turned around and went to bed. Caelum exhaled and went to his bedroom.

Chapter 7

POV: Eve

The morning air was crisp as I made my way through the halls of the pack house, the weight of reality pressing down on my shoulders.

The wedding.

I knew this day was coming, yet now that preparations were beginning, it felt more real. More permanent.

I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that I had a choice. This was my fate—the bond that secured the alliance between my pack and his. I had fought it, despised it, but now… I didn’t know what I felt anymore.

Caelum was not the monster I had imagined. He was something else entirely.

And that was almost more dangerous.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I said, expecting a servant or a guard.

Instead, a woman stepped inside, her posture straight, her expression composed but warm. She had auburn hair braided over her shoulder, and her sharp blue eyes studied me with a quiet curiosity.

“My Lady,” she greeted with a small nod. “I am Elara, head of the household staff. Alpha Caelum asked me to assist you with the wedding preparations.”

Of course he did.

I nodded stiffly, pushing down the conflicting emotions swirling inside me. “I see.”

Elara’s lips twitched, as if she sensed my reluctance. “It’s natural to feel overwhelmed,” she said, her voice softer now. “But this wedding is not just for politics. It is a celebration for the pack. They already see you as their Luna.”

I exhaled slowly. I had noticed it—the way they treated me, the way they accepted me so easily.

“You’ve served Caelum for a long time,” I said carefully.

She nodded. “Since before he became Alpha.”

I hesitated before asking, “Do you… do you believe everything they say about him?”

Elara’s gaze sharpened slightly, as if measuring my intent. But then she sighed, folding her hands in front of her.

“The world fears him because they don’t understand him,” she said simply. “And he lets them believe the worst because fear is useful.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

She didn’t deny the stories. But she didn’t confirm them either.

“Come,” she said, motioning for me to follow. “We have much to do.”

The preparation room was filled with silk, lace, and gold-threaded fabric.

I stood in front of the mirror, watching as Elara and a few attendants draped a long ivory gown over my shoulders. It was breathtaking—delicate embroidery across the bodice, sleeves of sheer fabric that trailed like whispers down my arms.

“You look beautiful,” Elara said.

I barely recognized myself.

This was not the attire of a warrior. This was the attire of a Luna.

“You will need to select your attendants,” Elara continued. “And there are decisions to make about the ceremony, the feast, the music—”

I turned sharply. “Do I have any say in this at all?”

Elara met my gaze calmly. “Caelum insisted that you do.”

That gave me pause.

I wasn’t sure why it unsettled me so much—the fact that he cared whether I liked the flowers or the fabric or the damn seating arrangements.

It would be easier if he didn’t.

If he remained the heartless, ruthless Alpha I had been forced to marry.

If I didn’t feel this slow, dangerous pull toward him.

I clenched my hands, forcing my thoughts into order.

Fine. If I was going to do this, I would do it on my own terms.

“Then let’s begin,” I said.

And Elara smiled.

By the afternoon, the details were set.

A ceremony beneath the stars. White and silver decor, simple but elegant. No excessive pomp, no ridiculous displays of wealth.

I had just finished reviewing the final details when I felt him.

That deep, unshakable awareness of Caelum’s presence.

I turned as he stepped into the room.

He was still dressed in his training clothes, his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms. He looked out of place among the silk and lace. And yet, he belonged.

His gaze flicked over me—my posture, the soft fabrics draped over the chair beside me, the pages of notes I had been scribbling.

“How is it going?” he asked.

I crossed my arms. “Apparently, I have a say in all of this.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You do.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

Caelum took a step closer, his scent wrapping around me—earth, steel, and something distinctly him.

“Because you’re the one who has to stand beside me.” His voice was quiet, but steady. “And I want you to be comfortable with it.”

I hated how those words affected me.

I should have been grateful for the freedom he was allowing me. I should have been relieved.

Instead, all I felt was frustration.

Because he was making it harder.

Harder to hate him. Harder to keep my distance.

“You don’t have to pretend to care,” I muttered.

Something flickered in his gaze.

Before I could react, he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers grazed my skin, and a slow, delicious shiver trailed down my spine.

His touch was gentle.

Far too gentle for a man known as a monster.

And it infuriated me.

“You think I’m pretending?” he asked, his voice lower now.

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t answer that.

Caelum studied me for a moment longer, his gaze intense. Then, finally, he stepped back.

“Finish the preparations,” he said, his tone unreadable. “The wedding is in week.”

And then he was gone.

Leaving me standing there, breathless and utterly lost in my own emotions.

Chapter 8

POV: Eve

The night was cold.

I wrapped my arms around myself as I stood by the window, staring out at the darkened lands of the Shadowfang Pack. A silver moon hung in the sky, casting its pale glow over the treetops, making the world look softer than it truly was.

But no matter how beautiful the night seemed, sleep refused to come.

My mind was too full—of the wedding, of Caelum, of the way his hands had lingered just briefly against my skin when he tucked that strand of hair behind my ear. Of how he looked at me like he saw something more.

I exhaled, my breath fogging against the glass.

I should hate him. I did hate him. Didn’t I?

But he wasn’t what I thought. And that terrified me more than if he had been.

A flicker of movement below caught my eye.

Caelum.

He was walking through the courtyard, his steps unhurried, one hand holding a cup. The steam curled into the night air, the scent drifting up—familiar, almost achingly so.

Chamomile. Lavender.

A blend I had known since childhood.

It smelled like home.

Caelum paused as he looked up and saw me standing at the window. For a long moment, we just stared at each other. No words. Just silence and moonlight and something unspoken stretching between us.

Then he turned and, without hesitation, walked inside.

It took just seconds, and there was a soft knock at my door.

I hesitated before opening it.

Caelum stood there, still holding the cup, his green eyes shadowed in the dim candlelight. He looked… tired. The ever-present sharpness in his expression had dulled slightly, as if exhaustion had finally worn through the edges of his control.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

I shook my head. “You either?”

A faint smirk ghosted over his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Not tonight.”

My gaze dropped to the cup in his hands. “Chamomile and lavender.”

He raised a brow. “You recognize it?”

I swallowed. “Smelled like home. We have a lot of chamomile and lavender. My mother used to make it when I was a child. She said it would soothe bad dreams.”

Caelum studied me for a long moment, then—without a word—he extended the cup toward me.

I hesitated.

Not because I thought it was poisoned. But because… because this was different.

Slowly, I reached out, wrapping my fingers around the warm ceramic. He didn’t let go immediately. His fingers brushed mine, lingering, the heat of his skin sending a jolt through me that I felt deep in my stomach.

And then, he pulled away. Stepping back.

I lifted the cup to my lips, taking a slow sip. The taste was the same as I remembered—soft, floral, a whisper of something gentle against the weight pressing down on my chest.

“You make this for yourself?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Sometimes.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t take you for a man who drank tea before bed.”

His lips twitched, but there was no real amusement there. “And I didn’t take you for a woman who would stand at the window in the middle of the night, looking as if the stars could answer her questions.”

My breath caught.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

Silence stretched between us, thick with something I couldn’t name.

Then, his voice dropped lower. “I know what they say about me.”

I stiffened.

“I know what you think of me,” he added, turning his head slightly but not looking at me. “The monster. The murderer. The heartless Alpha who kills without hesitation.”

His voice was eerily calm. But there was something beneath it, something raw. Something almost… haunted.

I clenched my hands. “Aren’t you?”

He finally turned to face me fully. And then, he did the last thing I expected.

He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, pulling the fabric aside to reveal his collarbone.

His mark was there, just like mine. But beneath it, scars trailed down his skin, old and faded but unmistakable. They cut across his chest and shoulder like remnants of a past battle—one I knew nothing about.

“My mate was poisoned,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “By the witches.”

The name sent a shiver of fear through me.

The words hit like a blow.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“She didn’t die right away,” he continued, his expression unreadable. “I tried to save her. I did everything I could. But the witches’ poison…” He exhaled slowly, his hands curling into fists. “It was too strong.”

The air in the room grew heavier.

“You let them believe you killed her,” I said hoarsely.

“Yes.”

I took a shaky breath. “Why?”

He looked at me then, really looked at me. And for the first time since I had met him, there was no mask, no ice-cold indifference.

“Because if they feared me, they wouldn’t question me,” he said simply. “Because power is the only thing that keeps this pack safe. Because grief is a weakness an Alpha cannot afford. And because it was safer for the other packs to believe I had chosen power over a witch… instead of mourning her.”

The truth settled in my chest like a weight.

I didn’t know what to say.

Caelum turned back toward the fire, rolling his shoulders like he was tired of carrying the weight of the world.

“And my Beta,” he said after a long pause, his voice rougher. “He was my best friend. He asked me for mercy.”

A chill crept down my spine.

“He was captured during a battle. The witches tortured him for days. When we finally got to him, there was nothing left.” His voice dropped lower, thick with something I couldn’t name. “He begged me to end it. It was the worst thing I ever did, but I didn’t let any other warrior do it. He was my friend. It had to be me.”

My stomach twisted painfully.

“So I did.”

Silence.

The fire crackled. The wind howled outside.

And I felt like I had never been more wrong about someone in my entire life.

“You didn’t have to tell me this,” I whispered.

Caelum turned his head slightly, his green eyes finding mine. “No. But I wanted you to know the truth.”

I swallowed hard, my throat burning with something I couldn’t name.

I had wanted to believe he was a monster. That it was easier.

But now?

Now, I didn’t know what to think.

Caelum took a slow step toward me.

“I will never ask you to love me, Eve,” he said softly. “I only ask that, one day, you see me.”

My breath caught.

His scent was everywhere—warm, steady, unnervingly familiar.

I should have stepped away. I should have kept my distance.

But I didn’t.

Because for the first time since I had been brought here, I wasn’t afraid of him.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

The words felt heavy, like something he wanted to say but couldn’t.

And for the first time, I wondered if Caelum carried as many chains as I did.

I looked down at the cup in my hands, feeling the warmth seep into my skin. “I don’t know what to believe about you anymore.”

Something in his expression shifted.

“Then don’t believe,” he said quietly. “Just see.”

See him. The way his people adored him. The way he was ruthless but fair. The way he let the world paint him as a monster because fear was a better weapon than war.

See the cracks in his armor, the ones he had never let anyone look at before.

I didn’t know what made me do it, but I took another sip of tea and then, slowly, held the cup out to him.

His brows furrowed slightly, as if he hadn’t expected it.

But after a beat, he reached forward, wrapping his hand around mine. He didn’t take the cup right away—just held it there, both of our hands tangled around the warmth.

Then, finally, he took a sip from the same place my lips had just been.

Something shifted in my chest. A slow, silent realization creeping in, whether I was ready for it or not.

Caelum lowered the cup, his gaze never leaving mine.

And I knew.

This was dangerous.

This thing between us, whatever it was.

But for the first time since stepping into his world, I didn’t feel like a prisoner.

I felt like I was standing at the edge of something unknown.

And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to step back… or fall.

Chapter 9

POV: Eve

The next four days passed in a way I never would have expected.

Mornings started with breakfast at the long dining table, where I sat among warriors and council members who no longer looked at me with curiosity or pity. They saw me. Not as a girl forced into marriage, not as an outsider. But as Caelum’s future wife. A privilege, not a burden.

Afternoons were spent in the library, where I pretended to focus on books, but my mind wandered to the man I had barely seen since that night. He had been gone at dawn, handling matters of silver extraction and the alliance with my old pack. A necessary duty. A secretive one.

And, of course, there was training—the one place I felt most at home.

Korr and the other guards trained me like one of their own, never holding back, never treating me as fragile. Sweat and bruises came as badges of honor, and I felt the weight of every approving nod, every sparring match where I held my ground. They were proud of me. Proud to call me their future Luna.

I should have resented the title. The reminder of my arranged fate. But somehow, it didn’t feel like a shackle anymore.

Not when I had earned it.

Not when I had claimed it myself.

Still, there was something gnawing at me. A longing I couldn’t ignore.

The fourth night, as the fire crackled in the great hall, I finally found him.

Caelum stood near the map table, studying routes and figures, his fingers tapping absently against the wood. He looked up as I approached, his green eyes flickering with something unreadable.

“You’re still awake,” he noted.

I exhaled slowly. “I could say the same about you.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t deny it.

I hesitated, then stepped closer. “I want to visit my old pack.”

Caelum’s expression didn’t change, but something in the air shifted.

“Not yet.” His voice was firm. Final.

Frustration prickled in my chest. “Why?”

He looked at me for a long moment, then sighed. “After the wedding.”

The words settled between us, heavy and unyielding.

I clenched my jaw. “Why after?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “Because then, I will take you there myself.”

I should have argued. I should have demanded an answer, an explanation. But something in his tone, in the way his fingers curled at his sides, stopped me.

It wasn’t just about control.

It was something more.

I let out a slow breath, nodding once. “Fine.”

Caelum studied me, as if waiting for me to push back. When I didn’t, he exhaled, a shadow of relief flickering across his face before he turned back to the table.

I left without another word.

I still had preparations to make.

The next day, the preparations are back, the fabric was soft beneath my fingers, smoother than anything I’d ever worn before.

I stood before the mirror, my reflection staring back at me—changed, unfamiliar, beautiful.

The dress was nothing like I had imagined.

I had expected something cold and impersonal, a symbol of duty rather than something meant for me. But Ellara had insisted on a gown that made me feel like myself.

And now, as I turned slightly, watching the silk ripple like liquid moonlight, I realized… I almost liked it.

Ellara stepped up beside me, adjusting the delicate lace at my shoulder. “It fits perfectly,” she said with a satisfied smile.

I swallowed, my fingers brushing over the intricate embroidery. “It feels… strange.”

She arched a brow. “Strange?”

I exhaled. “To be standing here. Doing this. Preparing for a wedding I never wanted.”

Ellara’s smile softened. “And yet, here you are.”

I didn’t reply, because I wasn’t sure what to say.

I should hate this. Hate all of it. But as the days passed, the lines between my resistance and reality blurred.

I had a choice once—before Caelum, before the bond, before the war my father feared. Now, choice felt like a distant memory, lost in the storm that was him.

Still, as I looked at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t deny it.

I looked like a bride.

Not just any bride.

His bride.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.

Before Ellara could answer, the door creaked open, and my breath caught violently in my chest.

Caelum stepped inside.

For a moment, he didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

His green eyes locked on me, dark and unreadable, but I saw it—the way his breath hitched, the way his grip on the doorframe tightened as if something had physically struck him.

The silence stretched.

Then, so softly I barely heard it, he murmured, “Gods.”

Heat crept up my neck.

Ellara quickly cleared her throat. “Alpha, it’s—”

But Caelum wasn’t listening.

He stepped forward, his gaze trailing over me like a slow caress. Reverent. Intense.

I had seen him ruthless and cold. I had seen him glare, smirk, command.

But I had never seen him like this.

Stunned. Breathless. Undone.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his voice hoarse when he finally spoke. “You are beautiful.”

My stomach clenched.

He had said it like a confession. Like something he hadn’t meant to slip past his lips.

Ellara smiled knowingly. “I’ll leave you two for a moment.”

Before I could protest, she slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

The air felt thicker, heavier in her absence.

I turned back to the mirror, unable to meet his gaze for too long. Afraid of what I might see there. Afraid of what I might feel.

Caelum moved closer, his steps slow and deliberate.

He stopped just behind me, so close I could feel the warmth of his body. His reflection loomed behind mine, his dark tunic stark against the pale silk of my gown.

For a moment, he just stared at me in the mirror, something unspoken crackling between us.

Then, slowly, he lifted his hand.

I tensed as his fingers brushed my hair, pushing a loose strand behind my ear. His touch was gentle, careful, as if I might disappear if he wasn’t.

His fingers lingered at my jaw for a second longer than necessary before he finally stepped back.

“You’re enjoying this,” he murmured.

I blinked, startled. “What?”

He gestured vaguely at the gown, the preparations, the scattered notes and fabric swatches covering the room. “The wedding. The planning. You’re not just tolerating it anymore.”

I hesitated.

Because he was right.

I had spent days resisting everything, clinging to my anger like a shield. But somewhere along the way, I had… let go.

Not completely. Not entirely.

But enough.

Enough to find comfort in the warmth of Ellara’s presence. Enough to care about the details of the ceremony. Enough to stand here now, in front of him, and not feel like a prisoner.

I exhaled. “It doesn’t mean I’ve accepted everything.”

His lips curved, just slightly. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

I turned to face him fully, searching his expression.

For answers. For something.

“What do you want from me, Caelum?” I asked softly.

The smirk vanished.

His gaze dropped to my lips, then back to my eyes.

A slow, quiet breath.

“I want you to be happy here,” he said finally. “Even if it takes time.”

I stared at him, my pulse pounding in my ears.

He could have said I want you to love me.

He could have said I want you to trust me.

But instead, he had said this.

Honest. Simple. Not a demand, but a choice.

I looked down at my hands, at the smooth white fabric beneath my fingertips.

Then, before I could stop myself, I whispered, “Maybe that’s not impossible.”

Caelum inhaled sharply.

But before either of us could say another word, a knock sounded at the door again.

Ellara’s voice was muffled through the wood. “Eve? Alpha? The tailor is waiting.”

I stepped back, my heart hammering.

Caelum’s eyes lingered on me for a second longer. Then, finally, he nodded.

“See you later,” he murmured.

And with that, he turned and left, leaving behind nothing but his scent, his warmth, and the slow, aching realization that I was falling.

Falling into something I had never wanted.

And I wasn’t sure I could stop.

Chapter 10

POV: Eve

The clang of steel echoed through the training grounds as I twisted, narrowly dodging Caelum’s strike.

He was faster than I expected today—sharper, relentless, dangerous.

I liked it.

I would never admit it, but I loved when he came to train with me. When he challenged me, pushed me. When I could see the flicker of approval in his green eyes every time I landed a hit.

“Faster,” he murmured as I parried his blade.

I gritted my teeth, sweat slicking my skin as I countered with a lunge. He sidestepped effortlessly, his body moving like liquid shadows.

“Again,” he commanded.

I liked the way he said that, the deep timbre of his voice curling through me.

Another strike. Another block. The heat between us was different here—wild, unrestrained.

Caelum smirked as I barely avoided his next attack. “Distracted, little wolf?”

I scowled and lunged—

And then everything changed.

A deep, gut-wrenching howl tore through the air.

The ground trembled beneath us, a pulse of something dark and heavy crashing into my chest.

I knew that feeling. Magic.

A cold, sharp voice sliced through the training grounds.

“They’re here!”

Caelum froze.

Not in fear, not in hesitation. In calculation.

His head snapped to the direction of the commotion, and in an instant, his entire body transformed.

Gone was the sparring partner, the teasing smirk, the quiet heat.

In its place was the Alpha.

The deadly, ruthless warrior who ruled with an iron will.

Bloodmoon.

The name surged through my mind, cold and sharp as a blade.

Rogues and witches. Together.

The pack house bells tolled, signaling the alarm. Warriors shouted commands. The metallic scent of magic thickened in the air.

Caelum turned to me, and my breath caught.

Because his eyes—**his fierce, unreadable green eyes—**weren’t just determined.

They were desperate.

“Eve.”

I knew what he was going to say before he even spoke.

“I’m coming with you,” I said firmly, gripping my sword.

Caelum didn’t respond right away. He just looked at me. Really looked at me.

His eyes, those sharp, unreadable green eyes, weren’t cold this time.

They were something else.

Then he moved.

Slow. Deliberate. Controlled—except for the slight tremor in his hands as he lifted them to my face.

He hesitated, just for a second. As if touching me was dangerous. As if the moment his skin met mine, something irreversible would happen.

And then, finally, his palms pressed against my cheeks, calloused and warm, fingers cradling my jaw. His thumbs brushed over my skin, the barest, most fleeting touch.

Not dominance.

Not restraint.

Desperation.

“Stay.”

The single word—hoarse, raw, pleading—cut through me like a blade.

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering. “No, Caelum, I can fight—”

His grip tightened. Not rough. Not forceful. Desperate.

“You don’t understand.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I need you safe.”

I had seen Caelum the Alpha. Cold. Ruthless. Unbreakable.

But this? This was different.

This was Caelum the man. And he was breaking right in front of me.

The sounds of battle loomed closer—the clash of metal, the guttural growls of wolves, the unnatural, twisted shrieks of witches.

Korr, the chief of the guard, appeared at Caelum’s side, face grim. “Alpha, the eastern perimeter—”

“I know,” Caelum cut in sharply, but his hands didn’t leave my face.

His thumbs traced over my cheekbones, so light it could have been a mistake. A twitch of his fingers. A reflex.

But it wasn’t.

He closed his eyes for the briefest second, his brows pinching, as if memorizing the moment. As if there was a chance he wouldn’t come back.

My chest squeezed. I wasn’t afraid of him.

I was afraid of losing him.

I opened my mouth—to say what, I didn’t know—but he leaned forward, just slightly, pressing his forehead against mine.

A fleeting second.

A breath of space.

A touch so intimate, so unguarded, that it unraveled something inside me.

And then, just as quickly as he’d touched me—he was gone.

He pulled away, jaw tight, expression unreadable once more. Then he turned and strode away, his presence commanding, his warriors falling into formation behind him.

Korr hesitated for just a second, watching his Alpha—watching us. But he said nothing.

And I stood there, sword gripped in my hands, heartbeat rattling in my chest, as Caelum disappeared into the chaos.

---

The battle raged outside.

I could hear it—the clash of swords, the howls of wolves, the guttural cries of men and monsters alike.

And I was here. Trapped inside the pack house, locked behind thick wooden doors while others bled and fought.

My hands curled into fists, my whole body tense with the unbearable waiting.

I should be out there.

I should be fighting.

Loric shifted beside me, his sharp blue eyes flicking toward me as if he could read my thoughts. He was always there—watching over me, trailing my steps whenever I walked through the pack house, keeping a silent but ever-present guard. We trained together often, his fighting style sharp and precise, and despite his role as my protector, he never held back against me in sparring. In a way, he and Ellara were the closest things I had to friends here.

“Don’t even think about it,” he muttered.

I exhaled sharply through my nose. “I can fight.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But not tonight.”

Frustration coiled in my chest. Not tonight? People were dying, and I was just supposed to—

A loud bang echoed through the hall as the front doors burst open. And my heart jumped…