"Looks like she was set up," Alpha Kael muttered, letting go of my throat like it had been nothing more than a toy tossed around for amusement.

His crimson eyes locked on me, sharp, calculating, terrifying. "Standard wolfsbane doesn't affect us anymore. We evolved past that centuries ago."

I blinked twice. My brain short-circuited. Wait. What? Wolfsbane? Not lethal? Not fatal? Everything I'd been taught, every trembling warning and fearful glance I'd carried since I could walk, suddenly felt like lies.

"Which only leaves... Blood of Wolfsbane," he added casually, as if naming a dessert and not a substance that could kill.

"You weren't there, Kael," Alpha Jarek spat, teeth clenched, eyes narrowing dangerously. "It was standard wolfsbane, nothing more." His gaze flicked to me with that judgmental, alpha-brother glare that reminded me why I hated being born into this family.

Kael tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Correct. You weren't there. But tell me this where would a six-year-old even get something like Blood of Wolfsbane?" My stomach dropped. My wolf, sealed for years, twitched in panic. Guilt clung to me, raw and impossible to hide.

Before Jarek could answer, Kael's gaze shifted to me. The air thickened. Every ounce of confidence I'd pretended to hold vanished. My throat went dry.

My hands itched to curl into fists, but I froze. He wasn't just an alpha; he was a storm contained in human skin, and I was about to be swept away.

"I didn't call you here to talk about your slave," Jarek snarled. "Or about... our parents ' "

Kael lifted a hand, stopping him mid rant. "I see. Then I'll leave you to your chaos," he said, calm as a lake, though there was a glint in his eyes danger, amusement, curiosity all at once. And that's when I realized the terrifying part: he didn't even blink when looking at me. Not once.

As soon as Kael stepped out, Jarek and Beta Kieran lunged at me. "What did you say to him?" Jarek demanded, slamming a hand into my stomach like he had a personal vendetta against my insides.

"N-nothing! I swear!" I gasped, curling into myself.

"He just... asked why I smelled... different."

"Did you tell him?" Kieran's voice dripped venom. I hated him so much, I fantasized for a fleeting second about ripping his throat out, but I didn't. Not yet.

"WELL?" Jarek snapped when I didn't respond fast enough, smacking my head. I forced my body upright, teeth gritting. "I didn't say it was you," I whispered, fragile.

Jarek yanked my hair back. Pain shot through my skull in sharp bursts, a reminder of every second I'd spent being "nothing" in this house. He dragged me down the hallway toward the basement. "If you've ruined this, you won't see daylight again," he hissed.

"Please..." I begged, voice trembling. "He's... he's an alpha! I had to answer him!"

And then he appeared. Alpha Kael, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, crimson eyes like fire licking through ice. My brother's grip vanished instantly, and I nearly screamed at the relief.

"I thought you had left," Jarek muttered, frustration threading his words.

"I said I would. Then I found a basement filled with your sister's... scent. Is this how you treat family?" Kael's voice was low, calm, but it pressed against my chest like a hand.

"She deserves it," Jarek snapped. "She killed our parents."

Kael's laugh was quiet, cold, merciless. "If I agree to your deal, everything becomes my business. Tell me, what punishment do you plan for her? Starvation? Beatings? Lockdown?"

"Really?" Jarek hissed. "You expect her to survive?"

Kael's eyes swept over me slowly, measuring, assessing. Underfed. Bags under tired blue eyes.

"A sister of an alpha," he murmured, voice heavy, "treated like a ghost. Regardless of what she did as a pup."

"She did it!" Jarek seethed. "But it has nothing to do with this deal!"

"That's for me to decide," Kael said, crimson gaze flicking from my brother to me. "Where is her mate? I'd like to know her thoughts."

I closed my eyes, silently praying my Luna wasn't around. Kael sneered, dismissing the question with a flick of his wrist. "On second thought... leave her out. She's likely as vile as you."

I peeked through slits. No defense. No rescue. Just me, marked, a traitor in my own home. And instead of death, my brother had sentenced me to endless suffering.

"Alpha Jarek," Kael said finally, smirking, controlled, infuriating. "I have a proposition."

Jarek's jaw clenched. "We've agreed."

"Not entirely. If you refuse, you won't get my help. You'd rather have me as an enemy, I assume?"

"You want her?" Jarek muttered, teeth gritted.

Kael's gaze shifted to me. "Yes. She comes to my pack, and then we talk terms."

My stomach dropped. Why me? I was nothing. A ghost. A mistake.

"Deal," Jarek said, sticking out his hand. Kael ignored it, cupping my face instead, thumb brushing my bottom lip. Eyes piercing, measuring, calculating. My wolf twitched inside, sensing danger... and something else.

Then he strode to the door. "One hand laid on her, and your contract will be the least of your worries," he warned, slamming the door behind him.

I bolted to my tiny bedroom. My few belongings, clothes in a bag, mocked me. Less than a minute to pack, but my mind raced. Kael's questions, his stare, the Blood of Wolfsbane... Why did he care? Why me?

By morning, we were driving to Moonshine Packhouse. Kael's men followed silently. My bag felt like dead weight. My pulse slammed against my ribs. I hid behind corners, dragging my belongings, heart hammering.

"Are you ready?" a voice called.

"Don't speak unless spoken to," another hissed behind me.

I stepped forward. Kael's eyes caught mine immediately scarlet fire, dangerous, assessing.

My wolf growled low in my mind, sensing him. Curious. Protective. Hungry.

"This isn't like the others," Kael said low, commanding. "Don't touch her. Don't stare too long."

I shivered. I knew my life had just been ripped from everything I knew. Nothing would ever be simple.

Nothing safe. And I was going to have to survive the storm that was Alpha Kael.

Looking past Beta Kieran, I spot her clinging to a statue of herself at the bottom of the stairs. 

Blonde hair falls in careless waves, green eyes sharp, calculating, measuring. She sways as she moves toward Trey, like a predator unaware she's being watched. I can't help but recall Liora's reaction yesterday. When I'd asked Trey about his mate, her whole body had stiffened, taut with fear.

 She was scared of this woman. Something about her made Liora flinch, and I wanted answers.

"Take her, Alpha Kael. I'm sure she'll serve you as well as she serves us." Her shrill voice cuts through me like glass. "Look at the pathetic thing she's going to pass out." The blonde laughs, cruel and hollow.

"You don't get to speak about her like that," I snap, glaring. "She's not your toy, not your slave. Alpha Trey, I suggest you keep your mate in line. I won't tolerate any more disobedience."

"DISOBEDIENCE!" the woman screeches as Liora hits the floor. "How dare you! If anyone's disobedient, it's that rat in the corner!" Rat? I growl silently, teeth clenched. Who the hell is she calling a rat?

"You should familiarize yourself with our agreement," I snap. "Seems your mate didn't tell you everything." I wave Eric forward. From under his arm, he pulls a thick wad of paper the contract I'd drawn up.

"All of this for your help?" His mate's eyes widen.

"I don't do half-baked contracts." I shove the paper into Trey's chest. "Office. Now."

Trey leads, his mate clutching him, Beta following behind. My men trail, while I hang back, watching Liora. "You're more than welcome to join us you're part of this deal. Or... my car is outside. You can pack and wait."

She murmurs, eyes low. "Those are my only options?"

"For now. Honestly? Sit with us. Nothing will irritate your brother's mate more." Her blue eyes stay fixed downward, fingers clutching her bag like it's life itself. The closer I get, the clearer it is: she's fragile, heart slow, fighting to stay alive.

"So, what will it be?" I ask.

"I... I..." Her head tilts between the door and the office. "I... I guess the office."

"Good choice." I offer my hand. She ignores it. 

Wobbly, but upright, following her. I catch the glares she earns from Trey and the others as she steps into the office.

"Take a seat," I whisper, brushing her lower back. 

She freezes, rigid, eyes darting.

"Sit!" I repeat, louder. "She doesn't have that privilege here!"

The blonde sneers, amused. "Sitting isn't a privilege."

I growl, scanning for bruises, evidence. None visible. Small relief. Aero paces in my head. He wants her out of this chaos as much as I do. The blonde recoils, shocked I spoke.

"And I suggest," I glare at Trey, "you tell your mate to keep her mouth shut or I'll do it for you."

Alpha Kael interrupts, calm, commanding: "You want my help, yes?" The room seethes. No one likes being told what to do. But here, they are. I point to the empty chair between Jenson and Eric.

 She sits, hesitantly.

"Let's finish this," Trey snaps. "The sooner she's gone, the better."

"You should read the contract," I mutter.

'Agreed,' Eric murmurs. They sign without reading, throwing the papers back. "Done," Trey mutters.

"Good. Get her out." His mate screeches in protest.

If I had my way, I'd take Liora now and leave the idiots behind. But the contract is ironclad they can't reclaim her. I rise, hand extended.

"Come. We're leaving before I lose my temper."

Her fingers slip into mine. Her other hand clutches her bag to her chest. She doesn't glance back, confirming my suspicion: she hates them as much as they hate her. At the open door, she hesitates, staring at the limo. "Come." Eric and Jenson flank her, curious, alert. She looks like a deer in headlights tiny, frail. Skin and bone. My hands trace the outline of every rib. Sickening. 

She should be strong, powerful, Alpha blood surging through her veins. Her face scrunches as I measure her. Not fear. Pain. She hides it beneath a baggy maid's dress.

"I know you want to say something. Just say it. 

I'm not interested in Trey's garbage. Speak freely. Are you injured?"

"No." Lies. I can feel it. A lock of black hair slips from the band meant to hold it. She's protective, starved, hardened. He'll pay for what he did.

"You must speak, Liora. When I mark you, I'll know what you feel."

"Mark me?" Her eyes widen, disbelief written across her face.

"Yes. I will mark you." She's shocked. Pink lips parting, hesitant, cautious. I thought she knew

that was why she'd submitted so easily. My Beta questioned me, uncertain. Her scent is strange... intoxicating. My wolf Aero hungers for her too, frustrated I didn't bring her yesterday.

"You... brought this to mark me?" She steps back toward the kitchen island, wincing, then forcing composure. If Trey had read the contract, he'd know: she is my bride, not a slave. Any interference, she becomes ours mine. I never bought her. Liora was always destined to be mine.

"I'm a murderer," she whispers. "Why would someone like you want me as a bride?"

Aero growls, cutting through my thoughts. Blood. 

Vulnerability. Power.

I glance down. Baggy dress, a new blood stain where I touched her. "Injured?" I demand. Barely touched her.

"Nothing. A cut. I knocked it. It opens. I forget it's there." Forget? Impossible. Aero panics. Less than two hours, already injured. No healing. Binding. 

We must reverse it soon.

"Show me."

"Fine," she mutters.

"Not optional. If you refuse, I will see for myself."

Her heart skips. "Can we go somewhere private?"

"Private?" I scoff. Wolf logic. She keeps focus slightly averted, afraid of my gaze.

"Office," Aero mutters.

"Perfect," I snap, motioning toward the door. She follows. The scent of blood intensifies. Already worse than a simple cut. Inside, I drop the blinds. 

Sunlight retreats. Hesitant, she begins unfastening her dress... only near the large bloodstain. Everything else remains hidden. Four inch wound, infected, painful.

"See? It's fine," she whispers.

"Stop saying that." I grab her hands, spotting more bruises. "Let's check the rest." No options. Fingers tear buttons. Sports bra, panties worn. Bruises everywhere. Whip scars. Hip bones, ribs protruding. Turning her, pulling the dress down her back... nothing above chest, nothing below thighs.

 Arms bare. Only one reason: hide abuse, hide appearances. Guests cannot see. Planned for months. She fumbles, pulling dress tight, thin frame revealed.

"You need to have a doctor check that."

"It's... it always heals. Eventually." Liora's voice fades when she notices the anger tightening across my face. My eyes travel over the bruises littering her arms, the fading marks around her throat, the wound on her stomach she's trying to hide with that thin dress. My jaw tightens. "Did Trey do this?" I mutter through clenched teeth, gesturing toward her injuries. Her blue eyes drop instantly. "Liora?" Silence. "Cassius then? That idiot that trails behind Trey like a shadow? Or the other two mutts with him?" She pulls the dress tighter around herself and gives a small nod. Her fingers brush her cheek, wiping away a tear that slips out before she can stop it. "Anyone else?" I press.

"The pack," she whispers so quietly it's almost swallowed by the room. A low growl rumbles in my chest. I'm going to kill them all, Aero snarls inside my head. He'll have to get in line. "Because of what they think you did to your parents?" I ask. She nods again. "I don't believe you were responsible." That makes her finally look up. Confusion twists across her face as her brows pull together.

"Because of... Blood of Wolfsbane?" she murmurs. I blink. "Liora." "I... I don't know what Blood of Wolfsbane is," she says quietly. I frown. "Your brother said you knew plants. Said you could tell the difference between them."

"I... I can't remember everything," she admits, her voice barely above a breath. "Not properly." I rub a hand over my jaw. "Blood of Wolfsbane is wolfsbane fed with our blood. The leaves turn red. It's rare and dangerous. Packs don't grow it openly because of what it can do." I pause, watching her reaction.

"No child would know what it is unless someone taught them." Her eyes drop again. "Your brother's story doesn't add up," I mutter. "Someone lied." "Oh." The small word leaves her lips like she doesn't know what else to say. I push myself off the desk, staring down at her. "I won't stop until I find out who really did this to you, Liora," I tell her quietly, my crimson eyes narrowing. "And when I do, they'll pay for every second of suffering you endured." She stays silent, but I can see the thoughts racing behind her eyes.

"Right now though," I add, gesturing toward her stomach, "you need to see the pack doctor before that infection spreads." She presses her lips together and nods. "Come," I say, turning toward the door. "I'll show you our bedroom. You can shower first." She freezes instantly. I glance back over my shoulder. "Our bedroom?" she repeats softly like she isn't sure she heard me correctly.

Yes. Our.

The realization clearly hits her all at once. Her shoulders tense, a shiver running down her spine. She probably thinks I expect sex whenever I want because she's my contract bride. I pretend not to notice. Adjusting her dress to cover herself, she steps into the hallway behind me. The corridors are quiet, empty. Our footsteps echo softly against the polished floors. I point out a few rooms as we walk. "Training room. Library. Council room."

But honestly, I'm more focused on getting her cleaned up before that wound gets worse. When we reach my bedroom, she stops again. The room is massive, windows stretching from floor to ceiling, letting in pale light. The bed sits against the far wall, surrounded by thin drapes hanging from the ceiling and tied back loosely at each post. Her gaze drifts toward the bathroom area and she stiffens. The bath and shower sit openly within the room itself. Only the toilet is hidden behind a small door. No privacy. Not that I care. I step closer, leaning slightly toward her ear and she jumps when my breath brushes her skin.

"You don't need to be afraid," I murmur. Even if I couldn't smell another male on her, I'd still feel the shift in her emotions through the bond forming between us. Crossing the room, I pull open the glass shower door and turn the water on. Steam begins to fog the glass almost instantly. When I turn back, she's still standing exactly where I left her, staring like she's waiting for the trap to spring. I tilt her chin up with two fingers. "Hey," I say quietly. "It's just you and me." Her eyes widen slightly.

I pull my phone from my pocket and set an alarm before placing it on the bedside table. "Ten minutes," I tell her. "I'll come back then with clothes for you. Stay in the towel until I return. Understand?" She nods. No words. Just that small, nervous nod again. I move toward the door but pause with my hand resting on the knob. Glancing back at her, I sigh softly. "I really wish you'd talk more, Liora." Then I leave her alone. The moment the door closes, she rushes for the shower like she's escaping into another world. Maybe for her, it is. Warm water pours over her body as she scrubs away dirt and sweat. The scent of soap fills the room as she washes her hair, her skin, everything like she's trying to erase years of misery. The wound on her stomach burns under the hot water, but she doesn't stop. A simple shower must feel like heaven compared to whatever she had before.

Minutes pass. I return and clear my throat loudly. She freezes behind the fogged glass. "Liora," I call out. "The alarm went off five minutes ago." Silence. "Are you done?" "Coming," she mutters quickly. The water shuts off and a towel wraps tightly around her body before she steps out. Her torn dress, old underwear, and worn sandals are gone from the floor. I'm sitting at the edge of the bed holding folded clothes and a pair of trainers.

"It's not much," I say, handing them over. "We don't exactly have anyone with a waist as small as yours." The outfit is simple navy joggers and a matching sweatshirt. "And the underwear will arrive tomorrow morning," I add casually. "You'll have to survive without it tonight." I raise an eyebrow as she dresses quickly. Joggers first. Sweatshirt second. Then the towel drops and she tosses it aside without hesitation. No teasing, no flirting, no attempt to impress me. She refuses to even look at me. Interesting. Most women would be parading around naked right now if they were alone in my bedroom. Liora just looks like she wants to disappear.

"Let's go," I say, standing. This time she follows immediately. The pack hospital isn't far from the main house. The doctor working tonight is young, nothing like the ancient coward from her old pack. She looks up when we walk in, quickly tying her dark hair into a bun. "Raven," I say, gesturing to the girl beside me. "This is Liora." Liora keeps her eyes lowered.

"Alpha Dane," Raven greets with a friendly smile before glancing curiously at Liora. "What seems to be the problem... aside from the strange scent she brought with her?" The comment isn't cruel. Just curious.

"She'll tell you herself when she finds her tongue," I reply dryly.

"I have a wound," Liora whispers finally. Raven's brows knit together. "And you're not healing?"

"I... don't have my wolf." The words sound like a confession. Like shame.

"Her wolf was bound when she was a child," I explain calmly. "That's why her scent is strange. The wolf is still there... locked away and waiting to be freed." Liora's eyes flicker up at me in shock. She'd always believed her wolf was gone. Not trapped. Raven stares at her for a moment, clearly fascinated. "Wow... okay," she says softly before grabbing Liora's hand. "Come with me. Let's take a look at that wound of yours."