Chapter 3: Whispers In The Dark

Claudia 

"This isn’t what I agreed to," I muttered under my breath as the car rumbled over the uneven road. Towering the gates of the Bloodfang estate loomed before us, massive and foreboding. I swallowed hard, steeling myself for what awaited me inside. I have never known anything outside the walls of my father's pack. I longed to see what it looked like, I yearned to be free. 

For years, I dreamed of leaving everything behind. It wasn’t a home—it was a cage, a place where I was constantly reminded of what I wasn’t: a daughter, a sister, a pack member. Now, I had finally escaped, but the freedom I craved felt like a distant illusion.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, stealing a glance at the elder who had accompanied me. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his eyes fixed ahead. Not a word had been spoken between us since we departed.

The Limo came to a halt, and I stepped out, my legs trembling beneath the weight of my gown. The Bloodfang estate was massive, its stone walls casting long shadows in the late afternoon sun. Everything about it exuded power and intimidation.

“Welcome to the Bloodfang Pack,” the elder said curtly before turning to one of the guards. “Escort her inside.”

I followed the guard, my heart pounding. The air smelled different here—it was clean, with a faint hint of pine. It was nothing like the damp, oppressive air of my father’s territory. For a brief moment, relief washed over me. I’m free, I told myself. Free from them.

But as we entered the grand hall, my relief was short-lived.

***

I recognized him immediately—the man who had stood beside me during the rites back at my father’s pack. He was the one I had assumed to be my husband, the one who had nodded politely but said nothing throughout the entire ceremony. He stood near the fireplace now, his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze flicked toward me briefly before returning to the flames. There was something hidden within the rim of his eyes. If felt like if he stared too long I was going to find something out. I wanted him to speak to me. To ask me anything other than this uncomfortable silence between us.

I hesitated, unsure of what to say. “I... didn’t catch your name before,” I ventured.

He raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. “That’s because it doesn’t matter.” I didn't understand the reason for his cold shoulder. I hated how I entered this world of emptiness a d indifference. It felt like everyone carried a dark secret and I was the one left to wander in misery i have been forced in.

Remembering his words, his tone was sharp, almost mocking. I blinked, taken aback. “Doesn’t matter?” I echoed. “But you’re my—”

“I’m not your husband,” he interrupted, his voice cold. “I stood in for him during the rites, but that’s where my involvement ends.” His words hit me like a slap. My mouth opened and closed as I struggled to process what he had just said. Was it possible to be present for someone else's marriage rites. It seemed when it came to me, even the impossible becones within reach. 

“Then... where is he?” I finally managed to ask. I could feel the strain of my words tearing the walls of my throat.

The smirk faded from his face, replaced by something unreadable. “You’ll see him soon enough.” I wanted to press further, to demand answers, but the atmosphere in the room had shifted. The elder reappeared, his expression as stern as ever.

“This isn’t the time for questions,” he said. “Come with me.”

***

As I followed the elder down a long, dimly lit corridor, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my chest. The warmth and politeness I had seen from this family back in my father’s pack had vanished, replaced by cold indifference.

“You should be grateful,” the elder said suddenly, his tone clipped.

“Grateful?” I repeated, frowning.

“For the opportunity you’ve been given,” he continued. “Your father’s pack was a disgrace. Here, you’ll have a chance to serve a real purpose.” His words stung more than I cared to admit, but I kept my head high. I had grown used to such villainous words.

We stopped in front of a Mahogany door. The elder turned to me, his gaze hard. “This is where your husband resides.” The statement sent a chill down my spine.

“Why isn’t he with the rest of the pack?” I asked cautiously.

The elder’s expression didn’t change. “You’ll see.”

Without another word, he pushed the door open and gestured for me to enter. The room was dark—darker than I expected. Thick curtains covered the windows, blocking out what little light the setting sun offered. The air was heavy, oppressive, carrying a foul smell that made me gag.

“Wait,” I said, my voice trembling. “I—” The door slammed shut behind me, and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking into place sent a wave of panic through me.

I spun around, pounding on the door. “Let me out!” I shouted banging the door. “What are you doing?!”

Silence.

I pressed my ear to the door, listening for any sign of movement, but all I could hear was my own frantic breathing. A low groan echoed from somewhere in the room, and I froze. My heart hammered against my ribs as I slowly turned around.

“Who’s there?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

The groan came again, louder this time. It was followed by a rustling sound, as if someone—or something—was moving in the shadows. My instincts screamed at me to run, but there was nowhere to go. The room was suffocating, the darkness pressing in from all sides.

"Do you intend to bang that door down, or are you done disturbing my peace?” his voice came out as a strain.

For the first time since leaving my father’s pack, I wasn’t relieved. I was terrified.