ARIA
The house stood far from the pack's main homes, half-hidden by tall, dead trees.
It looked old and tired — like even the walls wanted to give up.
When I arrived, Mira stood at the door with her arms folded. Her eyes scanned me slowly, like I was dirt she didn't want on her floor.
Behind her, her husband, Garret, leaned on the wall, silent, watching.
"So," Mira said, her voice hard. "You're the Alpha's little guest?"
I swallowed. "I'm not a guest."
She raised a brow. "Good. Because guests are treated better."
Garret stepped aside, nodding slightly. "Come in. Alpha's orders."
The house smelled of smoke and soup. A small fire burned weakly in the corner. I stepped inside, holding my hands close to my body. My torn dress brushed against my legs.
Mira's daughter, Clara, came down the stairs just then — blonde hair neat, clean dress, eyes full of something sharp.
"So this is her?" she said, tilting her head. "She doesn't look special, and she's not worth being here. She stinks badly. Is she seriously going to share a room with me or what?"
"She's not," Mira replied. "She'll sleep near the kitchen."
She pointed to a small space beside the cold stone wall. A thin mat lay there, with a torn blanket folded on top.
It wasn't even big enough to stretch my legs.
I nodded slowly. "Thank you."
Mira crossed her arms. "Don't thank me. You'll work for your stay. Start with the floors."
She threw an old rag at my feet and turned away.
"Can I rest and eat before I start cleaning? I'm really tired now, and tomorrow should be better, if you won't mind—"
Before I could finish, she slapped me across the face.
"You are a slave! You don't get to decide how you live here! You just got here, and you're already giving orders? Kneel and start working!"
I knelt down, my knees pressing into the hard floor, and began scrubbing. My hands were weak, my body still sore from the attack, but I didn't stop I had no place to go no one to talk to or express my pains too but I didn't have a choice.
Behind me, Clara giggled. "Mother, look at her. I bet she used her tears to make the Alpha pity her. Too bad he doesn't want her. That's why he sent her here — I bet he wants revenge for what her godforsaken father did to the Alpha."
"Pity doesn't last long," Mira said. "She'll learn that soon."
Their words stung, but I kept silent.
Hours passed. The floor gleamed, but my hands were bleeding. Mira didn't care. She only gave me another task — washing the dishes, cleaning the windows, fetching firewood.
By the time I finished, night had fallen. My whole body trembled.
"Eat," Garret said, tossing me a crust of bread.
I caught it before it hit the floor. "Thank you."
Clara rolled her eyes. "You eat like a dog. No wonder the rogues wanted you."
Her laughter filled the room. Mira didn't stop her.
I turned away, clutching the bread in my hand, swallowing the tears burning in my throat.
---
That night, I lay on the mat, staring at the wooden ceiling. The house creaked softly in the wind.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Jason's face — cold, proud, unreadable.
He saved me… but for what?
To watch me suffer?
To keep me close, like a shadow he hates but can't let go of?
A single tear slipped down my cheek. I brushed it away fast.
No more crying. No more weakness.
But when I whispered, "I want to go home," my voice broke.
Then I remembered — I no longer had one.
---
The next morning, Mira kicked my mat hard.
"Up! The well's dry. Fetch water before sunrise."
I blinked, my body aching everywhere. "Yes, ma'am."
Outside, the air was freezing. My breath came out in white clouds.
I carried the wooden bucket, dragging my feet through the wet mud.
Each step hurt, but I kept going. I didn't want Mira to shout again.
At the well, my reflection stared back — pale face, messy hair, eyes that looked older than my age.
I whispered to it, "You'll survive, Aria. You always do."
Then I lifted the heavy bucket and walked back.
---
By midday, my arms were shaking from work. Mira gave me no rest.
She made me wash clothes, clean the yard, and scrub the old pots until my fingers turned red.
When I finally stopped to drink some water, Clara came out holding a tray of food.
Steam rose from the plate — warm bread, meat, soup.
My stomach growled.
Clara smiled sweetly. "Hungry?"
I nodded before I could stop myself.
"Then work faster," she said and threw the soup into the dirt.
The smell hit me, and my throat tightened.
Mira didn't even look up from her chair. "Clara, don't waste food."
Her daughter smirked. "It was dirty anyway. I'm worth more than her."
Their laughter filled the air again.
I turned away, biting my tongue so hard it hurt.
I wouldn't cry — not in front of them.
---
That night, when the house went quiet, I sat by the window, staring out at the dark forest.
The moonlight touched the trees softly. Somewhere out there, Jason's pack was training, guarding the borders, living their normal lives.
And me? I was locked in a stranger's house, unwanted and unloved.
Still, deep in my heart, I felt something strange — a pull, a warmth.
Somewhere out there, I knew he could feel it too.
The bond.
I whispered softly, "Why do I feel you, even now?"
But before I could think more, I heard something outside — a low growl.
The bucket near the door shook slightly.
I froze.
Then came the sound again — closer, deeper. Not from a wolf… something else.
My heart raced. I stood up slowly, backing away from the window.
Outside, two red eyes flashed in the dark someone was watching me.