The sun dipped low, painting the horizon in bruised shades of purple and gold, as Seraphina stood at the edge of her new room. It was not the humble, creaking space she had left behind at her father's home, nor even the simple quarters she had occupied as a guest. This was a chamber crafted to remind her of power.
The walls were tall, draped with heavy velvet curtains that blocked out the last of the light. The bed was vast, carved from dark wood, its headboard etched with the crest of Kael's bloodline—a wolf entwined with thorns. A fireplace glowed faintly, though the flames barely chased away the chill that clung to her skin.
It felt less like a sanctuary and more like a cage dressed in finery.
Her fingers brushed over the polished dresser, over jewelry boxes and folded silks she had not chosen, yet were meant for her. All of it screamed ownership. Not hers—Kael's.
She was so deep in her thoughts she didn't hear the door open until the click of boots against stone echoed behind her.
Kael.
His presence filled the space before his words even did. The air grew heavier, charged, as though the walls themselves bowed to him.
"You'll sleep here from now on," he said simply, as though it were a fact beyond question. His gaze swept the room, then lingered on her. "Everything you need has been arranged."
Seraphina turned slowly, her voice tight. "A gilded prison is still a prison."
His eyes narrowed, though his tone stayed calm. "Would you rather the dungeons?"
Her chest tightened. "You know that's not what I meant."
Kael stepped closer, each measured stride deliberate. He stopped just a breath away, his towering frame casting her in shadow. "This is your place now. You'll adapt, or you'll break. The choice is yours."
The words stung, but beneath them she sensed something else—a warning, perhaps even a plea she couldn't quite decipher.
"I don't belong here," she whispered.
For the first time, his gaze softened, but only for a flicker of a second. "Whether you believe it or not, Seraphina, you're bound here. The contract sealed it. And the bond…" He stopped, jaw tightening as though he had said too much.
Her heart stumbled at the way he said bond, heavy with something primal and unspoken.
Before she could ask, the sound of laughter echoed faintly from the hall outside. Female laughter—high, mocking. Selene.
The door remained ajar, and Selene's voice slithered in like poison. "Poor little lamb. Must be terrifying, knowing the Alpha can snuff you out whenever he pleases."
Seraphina stiffened, but Kael's expression darkened, his voice a low growl. "Leave."
Selene's laughter faded, but not before she hissed, "She won't last a week."
The door clicked shut, and silence fell between them.
Seraphina turned back to Kael, anger and humiliation twisting inside her. "You let her speak to me like that? In my own chambers?"
"In my chambers," Kael corrected coldly. "Do not forget whose roof you stand under."
The words cut deep, but they were laced with truth she couldn't deny.
For a long moment, neither moved. The fire cracked, shadows dancing across his sharp features. Then, softer, Kael said, "Ignore Selene. She wants your reaction. Don't give her the satisfaction."
Seraphina's throat tightened. "And what do you want, Kael? Silence? Submission?"
He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "I want your survival. Everything else… we'll see."
Her chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as his presence overwhelmed her. For one terrifying, electrifying moment, she thought he might touch her—might close the distance between them.
But then he pulled back, leaving her shaken in the silence of the grand room.
Hours later, when the mansion had settled into quiet, Seraphina lay in the bed that was too large, too empty. Sleep evaded her. Every creak of the stone walls, every gust of wind against the windows, set her nerves on edge.
She rolled onto her side, clutching the sheets, trying to force her body to rest. That was when she heard it—a low howl in the distance. It wasn't the communal sound of wolves training or patrolling. It was lonelier. Wilder. It carried a note of warning, of longing, that made the hairs at the back of her neck rise.
She slipped from the bed, padding barefoot to the window. Pulling back the curtain, she scanned the darkness beyond the grounds.
At first, there was nothing. Just the forest stretching endlessly, shrouded in moonlight. But then—movement. A shadow slipping between the trees, too large to be human, too silent to be one of the patrolling wolves.
Her breath caught.
And then the shadow turned its head.
Glowing eyes locked onto hers, piercing the distance with unnatural clarity.
Her heart slammed against her ribs. She stumbled back from the window, but when she blinked, the figure was gone—vanished into the trees as though it had never been there.
She pressed her back to the cold stone wall, her breath ragged.
Whoever—or whatever—that had been, it had seen her. And it had wanted her to know.
The curtain swayed gently in the draft, the room too quiet, too heavy with the memory of those eyes.
Seraphina curled back into the bed, pulling the blankets tight around her, but sleep still would not come. For she knew one thing with chilling certainty:
She was not alone in this mansion.