The slap came out of nowhere—loud, sharp, and stinging like fire.

My head snapped to the side, my lips bursting open in a rush of blood. I staggered back, my vision blurry from the hit.

Agnes didn’t even flinch. She grabbed my hair, yanking my head back so hard I thought my neck might snap.

“You ungrateful little brat,” she spat, her voice venomous. “I raised you, fed you after your useless father died, and this is how you repay me?”

I could barely breathe, my heart pounding against my ribs. Blood dripped from my split lip, but I didn’t dare wipe it away.

Her grip tightened in my hair, pulling me to my knees. “I’ve done my part. And now it’s your turn to repay me. You think you’re going off to that fancy university, huh? With your little scholarship and plans to work part-time? You’re gonna make something of yourself?”

I gasped for air, trying to push words past the lump in my throat. “Please, Agnes—don’t sell me. I’ll work harder. I’ll pay you back. Just don’t—”

She yanked harder, dragging me across the floor until I was staring up at her. “I’m done, girl. You think you can escape? No. You’re worth a hell of a lot more to me dead or alive. A large sum, too. Lucian Blackthorn will pay for you. And you’ll shut up and do what you’re told, or I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.”

The air in the room felt thick, suffocating.

I opened my mouth to beg, but no sound came out. I couldn’t. I knew she wouldn’t listen. Then

the front door creaked open. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

Lucian Blackthorn. The old alpha thrice my age.

“Is she ready?” His voice was low, rough, carrying a weight that made my stomach churn.

“She’s ready,” Agnes said quickly, all but shoving me toward him. “A bit stubborn, but you’ll break her in.”

Lucian’s dark eyes scanned me from head to toe, and I felt stripped bare under his gaze. “She’ll do,” he said simply.

I wanted to scream, to run, to fight—but one look from him froze me in place. I knew what would happen if I refused. Agnes had made it clear.

“Say goodbye to your old life,” Agnes said with a smirk, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Not that there was much to miss.”

The carriage ride to Lucian’s estate was silent. He didn’t speak, and I didn’t dare. The heavy gold band on my finger felt like a shackle, a cruel reminder that I was now his property.

The estate loomed ahead, a massive stone fortress surrounded by dense forest. It was beautiful, in a cold, forbidding way.

“Don’t think about running,” Lucian said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. “The woods aren’t kind to little lambs like you.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

The wedding had been a mockery. A few witnesses, a rushed ceremony, and a vow I didn’t mean. Now, as the night fell, the reality of my situation settled over me like a suffocating weight.

***

I was alone in the grand bedroom, the walls lined with dark wood and heavy curtains. The bed—a monstrosity of carved mahogany—stood in the center, its silk sheets untouched.

I sat on the edge, my hands trembling in my lap. What now?

The door creaked open, and there he was—Lucian. My breath hitched, and panic set in as every muscle in my body went on high alert.

Then the worst happened. He grabbed my arm roughly, pulling me toward him with a force that made me stumble. My body reacted on its own, trying to escape, but he was stronger.

“P-please, no!"

But his hands were everywhere—ripping at my clothes, pulling me closer. I felt sick. My pulse raced, my vision blurring, but before he could do more, his phone rang. He shoved me away in a fit of frustration.

“Dammit,” he muttered under his breath, before answering the call. “What?” he snapped, his voice low and urgent. His eyes flickered to me for a moment, and then he turned his back to take the call.

He cursed again, something about a ‘situation’ with his son. Then, he stormed out of the room, leaving me trembling and covered in bruises, blood dripping from my lips where his grip had crushed me.

The door slammed behind him.

I lay there for a while, the cold bite of reality settling deep in my bones. I didn’t know how long I was there, but an hour later, the silence was broken.

A scream echoed down the hallway. My heart stopped for a moment as I froze, listening. It was high-pitched, frantic.

I jumped up, panic clawing at me as I stumbled toward the door. But before I could reach the hallway, a servant burst into the room, her face ghostly white.

“Alpha Blackthorn… he’s dead.”

My mind blanked for a second. “What?”

“He... he collapsed. In his study. He was poisoned.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Poisoned? But—how?

The next few hours were a blur of activity. Guards rushed in and out, questioning anyone and everyone. I kept quiet, the chaos swirling around me as I replayed what had happened. Who would dare? Lucian was a monster—feared by everyone, even his own pack. But now he was dead. And on our wedding night no less.

One of the guards approached me. “Did you see anything?”

I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper. “No…”

His gaze lingered, sharp and suspicious, but he moved on.

And as the night dragged on, one thought kept running through my head: Lucian's death had spared me from a fate worse than death itself. But at what cost?

The day of Lucian’s funeral was nothing like I imagined. I thought there’d be a grand ceremony, a show of respect for the powerful Alpha who had ruled with an iron fist. But all I felt was the weight of his absence, the strange quiet hanging over the estate like a thick fog.

The pack had gathered, their expressions grim, their eyes wary, like they were waiting for something. I wasn’t sure what they expected, but I knew they all had one question in mind: Did I do it?

I was still in shock over the whole thing. Lucian had been my jailer, but his death… it wasn’t a relief. It felt wrong, like something had shifted in the universe.

As the ceremony wrapped up, I stood by the edge of the crowd, trying to remain invisible. I didn’t belong here. Not anymore.

Then I heard his voice.

“You!”

I turned, my heart leaping into my throat. Damien Blackthorn, Lucian’s son, was striding toward me with an icy glare. He was tall, lean, his dark hair perfectly styled, and the way he carried himself… it was clear he was a man accustomed to power. His eyes, cold and sharp, drilled into me as if I were nothing more than an insect.

“You’re the one who poisoned my father, aren’t you?” he spat, his voice dripping with venom.

I recoiled, my stomach churning. “What? No! I didn’t—”

He didn’t let me finish. “Don’t lie to me. I’ve been abroad for years, studying medicine, learning how to spot the signs of poisoning. I know exactly what happened.” He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “You married him for his money, and now you’ve killed him for it.”

My blood ran cold. I had heard whispers before, but this? Accusations of murder? This was something else entirely.

“I didn’t kill him,” I said, my voice shaking despite my efforts to keep it steady.

Damien’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a smirk. “I’ll prove it. You’ll pay for what you did.”

The pack council met the next day. I was dragged in front of them like some criminal, my hands tied with invisible chains. Damien stood at the head of the room, his posture straight, his expression unreadable.

He didn’t speak for a long while, just stared at me with that chilling gaze. Finally, he spoke. “This woman is guilty. We have no proof yet, but I’ll find it. And when I do, she’ll pay for what she’s done.”

My throat tightened as the council murmured amongst themselves. I could feel the eyes of the pack on me, some sympathetic, but most just waiting for the verdict.

The council questioned me, but the more they asked, the more they realized they had nothing concrete to accuse me of. No poison residue, no signs of foul play.

In the end, the case was dismissed. But the damage was already done. The pack’s whispers had started, and once those rumors spread, they never stopped.

***

The next few days were a blur. I could feel the eyes of the pack following me, like I was some sort of monster. “Gold-digger,” they’d mutter as I passed. “Murderer.”

I didn’t know where to turn. Agnes had vanished, probably already plotting her next scheme, but that didn’t matter anymore. The pack had turned its back on me.

And then there was Damien.

He found me in the gardens that evening, his presence unmistakable even before I turned around.

“You’ve been lucky so far,” his voice low, dangerously calm. “But you won’t be for long.”

I straightened, anger flaring up in my chest. “What do you want from me? I didn’t do it! I didn’t poison him!”

He smirked. “I don’t care if you did or didn’t. You’ll pay for his death one way or another.”

My stomach twisted in confusion. “What are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about punishment.” His smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “You’ll marry me.”

I froze, my mind struggling to process his words. “What?”

“You heard me.” Damien stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “Lucian’s death is on your hands, and I’ll make sure you suffer for it. I’m going to make you marry me. It’ll be my revenge.”

My breath caught in my throat. “No. You can’t do that.”

“Oh, I can,” he said, his smile cold. “And I will. You’re going to learn exactly what it means to be my wife. To feel the weight of this pack’s judgment on you.”

I wanted to scream, to fight back, but the truth was clear. I had no choice. Damien wasn’t just angry—he was powerful, and he was determined to make me suffer.

And I knew, deep down, that the pack would follow his lead. They would never let me escape.

So this was it. My punishment. The price of silence.

I never thought I’d be dragged to an altar like cattle, but here I was, standing before a crowd that couldn’t care less about me. I could hear the whispers around me, the judgment in every eye. They all thought I’d murdered their Alpha, thought I’d killed Lucian for the power and the wealth. And now, Damien, his son, was going to claim his revenge.

Damien stood beside me, his expression as cold as ever. His hand was heavy on my arm, a silent reminder that I had no say in this. No choice. He didn’t even look at me as we exchanged vows. It was like I was just another possession to him, a prize to be claimed.

I felt the weight of the pack's eyes on me, the pressure of their silent disapproval. I tried not to show how much it hurt, but I couldn’t help it. My heart felt like it was shattering into a thousand pieces.

The honeymoon wasn’t in some romantic, picturesque setting. Damien took me to one of his father’s old estates, far from the pack, far from anyone who might hear me scream.

That first night was a blur of fear and humiliation.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "Damien, please… I don’t want this."

He didn’t even turn to look at me. "You don’t get a say, Eira. You never did."

My chest tightened. He was right. I had no voice here. I was just a tool to be used.

He finally turned, his eyes dark and unreadable. He walked toward me slowly, deliberately, like a predator sizing up its prey.

I backed away, but there was nowhere to run. The door was locked.

"D-damien, please," I whispered, my voice cracking.

But he didn’t care. He grabbed me, forcing me onto the bed. My heart raced, panic rising in my chest as he pinned me beneath him.

When he marked me that night, it was nothing like what I’d expected. He sank his teeth into my skin, claiming me in the most brutal way possible. I tried to fight him, but he was too strong.

Then, something unexpected happened. He froze.

His eyes went wide as he pulled back, his grip loosening for a moment. "You’re still a virgin?" he asked, his voice low and almost disbelieving.

I didn’t answer. It didn’t matter.

He recovered quickly, though, his anger flaring back up as he looked at me with contempt. "You think that matters? You killed my father, and you think I’m going to show you mercy?"

With a growl, he went at me again, forcing himself on me. There was no tenderness, no care, just cold, hard vengeance.

When he was done, he left me lying there, broken and discarded like I didn’t matter.

I should’ve expected it. He never wanted me. He never cared.

The next few days were torture. Damien barely spoke to me, except to bark orders or remind me of my place. Every move I made, every breath I took, was under his control. I was his Luna now, but my title meant nothing. I was a prisoner in my own home.

The pack watched me like vultures, waiting for me to fail. They had no sympathy for me, no understanding of what I was going through. They saw me as a murderer.

One afternoon, while I was in Lucian’s study, I found something. A journal, hidden away in the back of a drawer. I didn’t know what made me open it, but something inside me told me I had to.

The handwriting was Lucian’s, sharp and precise, filled with names I didn’t recognize and cryptic notes about alliances and debts.

I flipped through the pages, my fingers trembling, until I came across something that made my blood run cold.

"Don’t trust the council. Betrayal runs deep. Someone in our pack isn’t who they seem to be."

I stared at the words, trying to process what I was reading. Could Lucian have known something was going to happen? Had his death really been an accident?

I couldn’t stop the questions from flooding my mind. If Lucian had been betrayed, who had done it? Was his death part of a larger plan?

The journal was my only clue, but I knew I had to be careful. Damien’s eyes were everywhere, and he would never let me get away with questioning anything. But something told me Lucian’s death wasn’t as simple as it seemed, and I couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in my gut.

I had to find out the truth.