2. A Strange Alpha 

He walked closer, the sound of his footsteps resonating on the ground, echoing with a chilling familiarity, the same movement I had sensed from the person who killed my mother.

My heart raced as his presence filled the space, powerful and commanding. Every step sent a wave of dread through me, but I didn’t dare lift my head. I was too afraid of what I might see.

“Lower your weapon,” the voice commanded, cold and unwavering.

Frederick hesitated, his grip tightening on the sacred blade. “Who are you to come here and try to stop me?” he growled, his voice strained with frustration.

The man took a step closer, his presence commanding, as the rest of the pack members snarled, ready to attack. But he didn’t flinch or show any sign of fear. “I am Lucian, Alpha of the Blackwood Pack.”

Frederick’s eyes widened in shock, and I could feel the sudden tension rippling through the pack. Lucian’s name held power, and it was clear they recognized it.

Without hesitation, Lucian reached down and grasped my hand, pulling me to my feet. My breath hitched as I stared up at him. He was tall, his dark hair brushing his shoulders, and his eyes glowed with a strange intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. Power radiated off him in waves, and it was clear, this was not a man to be crossed lightly.

“She comes with me,” he said, not even glancing in my direction. “Let me handle her and show her what it means to be rejected.”

“No! I want her dead for killing my mother,” Thanos growled, lunging forward. But Frederick grabbed him, pulling him back as the rest of the pack gasped.

“Leave her with him,” Frederick said with a cruel grin, flashing a look of hatred in my direction. “I’m sure she won’t survive a day.”

“I don’t think I need to say something any more,” Lucian replied coolly, tightening his grip on my wrist and pulling me away. The force of his hold made my body ache, but I endured it; it was better than being killed in front of people who despised me.

 We got to the car and he let go of my hand, tears rolled down my eyes. I didn't know how I could thank him enough for saving me, he stared at me his eyes peering deeply into mine. 

“Thank you for saving me,” I mumbled, feeling a surge of gratitude. But he looked away, frowning as though he regretted his decision.

He opened the door. “Get in the car.” Moving to the driver’s side, he glanced back at me. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t save you for gratitude. You’re better off as a slave to me.”

Slave? The word echoed in my mind, sharp and painful. This couldn’t be happening…but before I could process it, his hand gripped my arm and shoved me into the car, slamming the door shut.

I wanted to beg him to let me go. I couldn’t be a slave. But the words caught in my throat. I sat there, silent and numb, as the car drove away from my pack, my memories slipping further and further away with each mile.

“You’ll do great things, Lyra. Once you find your mate, he will share your rare traits…red irises,” my mother’s voice echoed in my mind.

My eyes snapped open as the car came to a halt. Lucian opened the door and pulled me out, and I found myself standing before a mansion. Dark, ancient, and grand, it loomed over the landscape. I’d never known such a place existed until this very moment.

Lucian pushed me forward, leading me up the stone steps and through the heavy iron doors, which creaked open under his touch. The interior was colder than the night air outside, filled with dark tapestries and flickering torches casting eerie shadows on the walls. Every step echoed in the vast halls as he guided me deeper into the castle, each room more imposing than the last.

“Where are we?” I whispered, my voice swallowed by the silence.

“This is my home,” he replied without looking at me, his tone as cold as the stone walls surrounding us. “And now, it’s yours.”

He stopped in front of a heavy wooden door and opened it, motioning me inside. The room was dimly lit, with a narrow bed, a rough wooden table, and a small window barely letting in any moonlight. It was barren but somehow felt more secure than anywhere else I’d been in the past few hours.

“You’ll stay here,” Lucian said. “Your duties start tomorrow.”

My heart pounded. “What…what duties?”

He looked at me, his eyes cold. “You’ll learn that soon enough.”

With that, he turned and shut the door, leaving me alone in the dark room. I sank onto the bed, my mind racing. Everything I’d known, my mother, my pack, my freedom, was slipping away. Now, I was alone in a strange place, at the mercy of a man who viewed me as little more than property.

The door swung open, and I looked up hastily to see a woman dressed in a white blouse and black apron. She offered me a tentative smile.

“What’s your name?” she asked as I slowly rose from the bed, my body still aching.

“Lyra Moon,” I mumbled, my voice weak and barely audible.

“Lyra, I’m Bethany.” Her voice quivered slightly, and she quickly looked down. “The Alpha asked me to show you around the mansion and get you some fresh clothes.”

I was tempted to ask if she was a slave, too, but I held back. There was no point. I stood up and followed her out of the room. The hallway was dimly lit, lined with towering portraits of somber faces and tapestries that seemed to absorb every bit of sound.

Bethany led me through the winding corridors, her footsteps barely making a sound on the stone floors. The vastness of the mansion overwhelmed me; the air was heavy with age, filled with the scent of old wood and burning candles.

“This place used to belong to the Alpha’s family for generations,” she murmured as we walked. “Not many people know it exists.”

We stopped in front of a door, and Bethany opened it, revealing a small room filled with folded clothes and various supplies. She handed me a fresh set of clothes, a simple tunic and leggings in a muted gray, and gestured for me to change.

I changed into the clothes and Bethany led me up a narrow stairwell that spiraled to a higher floor. “There’s something you should know about the Alphas who live in this mansion,” she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder as if afraid someone might overhear. “Alpha Lucian can be a bit kind, though he’s not forgiving. But don’t ever go near or have anything to do with his brother, Varg. He’s a fighter and couldn’t care less about your feelings.”

I gulped. If Lucian, the ruthless Alpha, was considered “kind,” I could only imagine what his brother must be like. I wanted to ask her what my fate would be, but fear kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to hear what might feel like a death sentence.

Her words sent a chill through me, but I nodded, absorbing every warning she gave. We continued up the stairs until we reached a set of heavy double doors.

Bethany pushed them open, revealing Lucian sitting in a large, throne-like chair with a bottle of liquor on the table before him. He held a glass with a small amount of the drink swirling inside.

The moment he saw me, his gaze swept over me from head to toe, assessing. Then, he gestured for Bethany to leave.