Chapter Two

Chapter 2: The Bride of the Alpha

Lucian's POV

I watched her freeze, eyes wide, her small, fragile frame shaking under my gaze. She was so much like a cornered rabbit-all soft edges and panic, ready to bolt. I found it quite amusing. She thought she could run? From me? No one ran from Lucian Blackwood.

I leaned against the doorframe, crossing my arms over my chest, my expression blank as I evaluated her. She wasn't what I had expected-less fire, more fragility. Darius had mentioned nothing of her being this. vulnerable. A maid in her own house, sold off like a piece of livestock. It wasn't much different from what I'd expected, but still, something about her felt incomplete. Too soft. Too human.

Her lips parted, but no sound came out, and I lifted a brow over at her struggling to find words. It almost made me laugh.

"I—" she stammered, then stopped, swallowing hard. Her throat bobbed as she took a shaky breath. "I didn't know… you were coming."

"I wasn't," I said flatly, pushing off the doorframe and stepping toward her. Her entire body stiffened like she was expecting a blow. "But I had a feeling you'd do something like this. Run. I like to keep an eye on what's mine."

Her face paled. "Yours?"

"Didn't Darius explain that?" I growled, my voice darkening with the edge of impatience. "You belong to me now, Elara."

I spoke her name low, teasingly, indulging in the way those eyes went even wider with the sound. Her fear was palpable, coiling through the air, right into my nostrils, and for a second, I wondered whether this had come altogether too easily.

She took a step back, but I didn't give her the chance to run. I moved swiftly, crossing the distance between us in seconds. My hand shot out and caught her wrist, pulling her close. Her pulse was racing beneath my fingers, so fast and fragile. I could crush her if I wanted to. But no. That wasn't the plan.

Not yet.

"Let go," she whispered, her voice shaking.

I angled my head, pretending to muse over what she was asking for. "No."

Her breath caught when she stared up at me, her wide eyes flashing defiant. buried beneath the layers of fear, but it was there. Interesting, I hadn't expected her to fight.

"You think you can run from me?" I asked softly, leaning my face closer to hers. "You think you can hide?"

"I didn't—" She broke off, her lips shaking. "I didn't ask for this."

"I don't care," I replied coolly. "You're still going to marry me."

Her eyes flashed with sudden anger and she tugged her wrist out of my grasp. "I don't want to marry you! I don't care what Darius says—"

"Your opinion doesn't matter." My voice was low, dangerous, slicing through her protest. "You are nothing more than a pawn. Your stepbrother sold you to me like cattle and now you will do what it is you're designed to do."

Her mouth snapped shut and I saw tears welling up in her eyes. I ignored the pang of guilt fluttering inside me. I wasn't here to comfort her. I wasn't here to be kind.

I turned my back to her, pacing the length of the room. "Consider this a mercy, Elara. If it weren't for me, you'd be dead. Darius would have thrown you to the wolves, literally."

She didn't say anything, but she seared her gaze right into my back. Let her hate me. It was better this way.

"You'll come with me now," I said, my voice brokering no argument. "You've delayed long enough."

Silence. I glanced over my shoulder and saw her standing there, motionless, her fists clenched at her sides. A small spark of admiration flickered in me. She wasn't begging. Good. I hated begging.

"Where?" she whispered.

"To my estate," I replied, turning to face her fully. "You'll live there as my wife."

Her jaw clenched and she shook her head. "I won't."

I chuckled. The sound was low, without humor. "You don't have a choice."

She said nothing and after a moment, I strode toward her, grasping her arm again—not as gently this time. Her body went rigid but she didn't struggle. Smart.

It was a silent ride back to my estate, save the jingling of horses and the whistling of the wind through the trees. Elara sat ramrod straight beside me in the carriage, hugging the side as if working out an escape into the dark. I could sense an unease growing inside her, but she said nothing, kept her shoulders square and her eyes off mine.

I was watching her. There was something about her, a tone that disturbed me. She was different from the women that have crossed my path in life. They'd all been quivering with fear or anxious to please, but neither did Elara. She sat in silence, yet her eyes… they told volumes: anger, defiance, fear, and something else-something I couldn't place.

When we finally arrived on the estate, she hesitated to step out into the carriage, her eyes scanning the tall massive structure before her. My home. My territory.

"Welcome to your new life," I said quietly, watching her reaction.

She looked at me, her face an unreadable mask. And then back again at the estate. "It looks like a prison."

I smirked. "That's because it is.

I wasted no time inside. "Your room is down the hall," I told her, leading her through the grand foyer. "You'll stay there until the wedding tomorrow.

She followed me without a word, quiet, her posture stiff. We reached the door to her room and she stopped, turning back to me. For a long moment, there we were, her eyes in mine as if trying to make sense of me. She wouldn't.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, almost whisper-soft.

I met her gaze, held it. "Because I can.

Her eyes hardened, and I saw the tears she'd been fighting all night start to gather. But she didn't let them fall. Instead, she squared her shoulders, and without another word, she stepped into the room and slammed the door in my face.

I stood there a second longer, staring at the door. She was stronger than I'd given her credit for. I'd give her that. But it didn't matter. She'd break. They always did.

I turned and walked away, the echo of the slamming door ringing in my ears.

Alone in my study, I stared out into the night, watching the moonlight filter through the trees. I was going to make her pay for what happened to me. For everything I had lost. She didn't know it yet, but Elara was part of my plan-my way of getting revenge on a world that had taken everything from me.

This wasn't about her. It was never about her.

And yet…

I caught myself thinking of her eyes, the way they had met mine without flinching. The way she had held back her tears.

Perhaps-just perhaps-this was not going to be as easy as I had thought.