Four

Aria’s POV

The cold stone scraped against my skin as they dragged me from the walkway. The burning ache from the arrows embedded in my leg throbbed with every jolt, each movement sending fresh waves of agony crashing through me. But worse than the pain was the sense of helplessness. I wasn’t just broken, I was claimed.

I felt Alpha Lucien’s presence behind us like a shadow that clung to the walls thick, poisonous, and impossible to shake. He didn’t speak, but his silence was louder than any roar. I could feel his eyes on me, hot, invasive, claiming.

The warriors didn’t care. They pulled me like I was nothing more than a sack of broken bones, up the wooden stairs, past the curious and terrified eyes of the omegas that dared peek from the corners. No one would help me. Not here.

They tossed me like a ragdoll onto a small bed in a dimly lit room. My “room.” A space that had once been a storage room. No warmth, no windows, just a locked door and the scent of dust, old wood, and now blood.

The door clicked shut.

We were alone.

I groaned and tried to lift myself with trembling hands, but the pain shot through my leg like wildfire. I glanced down. Blood oozed steadily around the arrow shafts still lodged in the muscle. My body trembled as a wave of nausea rolled through me.

Then his voice came out slick, venomous, and curled through the silence.

“Why are you being naughty, orphan?”

I froze. My breathing hitched. The voice that once belonged to my mother’s mate, my stepfather was now something darker, twisted.

Lucien stepped into the light, his features a mask of control barely hiding the fire raging behind his eyes. His gaze swept over me, not with concern, but possession.

“I reject you as my mate,” I choked, tears streaking my cheeks. “You’re not my mate. You’re my… my—”

He cut me off with a chuckle. “Still clinging to that fantasy?” His voice dipped low, mocking. “You think the Moon Goddess cares about your childish rejection? I’ve marked you. That makes you mine.”

“You’re my stepfather,” I whispered, barely able to say it aloud.

He paused for a heartbeat. Just one. Then smiled like I had said something amusing. “And you think that changes anything?”

He took a slow step forward, then another, until the air between us seemed too heavy to breathe. “Blood doesn’t make a mate. The mark does. And you, Aria… you’re wearing mine.”

My heart hammered violently in my chest. “Please don’t,” I whispered.

His hand moved fast, grabbing my jaw, tilting my head up so I had no choice but to look at him. His fingers dug into my skin. His eyes searched mine, but not for connection, but for control.

“A joker,” he murmured, his lips curling. “You think you can just reject what’s already written?”

I tried to pull away, but I was weak. My wolf, Nyra, was still silent inside me, bound, gagged by the cursed bond.

“I have to finish my marking,” he said as if it were a task on a list, like putting a collar on a pet.

He stepped back just enough to undo his belt. The sound of the metal buckle clinking made bile rise in my throat.

“No…” I whimpered, shaking my head. “Don’t do this…”

He didn’t listen. He pulled his trousers down slowly, revealing the outline of his hardened arousal beneath his boxer briefs. My stomach clenched in revulsion.

“What are you trying to do?” I asked, even though I already knew.

He leaned down, his face inches from mine. “You know exactly what I’m trying to do.” His voice was low, guttural. “This is what claiming really means. My scent, my seed and everything that binds you to me.”

“You’re sick,” I whispered. “You’re a monster.”

“I’m your Alpha,” he corrected, eyes flashing with dominance. “And your body knows it. That’s why your wolf won’t fight. The mark… it’s doing its job.”

“No. No, she’s not fighting because you silenced her.” My tears were hot now, falling freely. “You killed her spirit.”

He tilted his head, as if considering that. “Or maybe she’s just waiting for you to accept what you really are. Mine.”

“Never.”

Lucien’s smile vanished. His hand shot forward again, this time grabbing my injured leg. I screamed as he twisted it, and pain exploded through me like fire.

“You will learn respect,” he hissed. “Through pain, or through obedience. Your choice.”

My vision blurred, but I managed to rasp out, “My mother would be ashamed of you.”

He froze, his grip faltering slightly. Then he chuckled again, though this one sounded more forced. “Your mother…” He pulled back and paced a few steps. “She was strong, yes. But foolish. She gave her heart too easily. I needed more than what she offered. You… you’re different. You have fire. I’ll enjoy putting it out.”

“She died because of you,” I said through clenched teeth. “She took that arrow meant for you, and you let her.”

His eyes darkened. “You speak too much for someone so weak.”

“Someone who refuses to belong to you,” I shot back. “You can take my body, but you’ll never have my soul.”

He moved suddenly, dragging his fingers along my neck, his thumb grazing the mark he left there. “Oh, but I already do.”

He leaned down again, whispering, “You’ll crave me. Beg for me. Even if it’s against your will. That’s the curse of the mate bond. It eats away at everything else.”

“I’d rather die than want you.”

“That can be arranged,” he said coldly, reaching for the silver blade on the dresser.

Fear spread like ice through my veins. I scrambled backward as best I could, but my leg screamed with pain.

He held the knife casually, almost playfully. “Every time you disobey, there will be pain. And every time you submit, there might be mercy.”

He brought the blade to my cheek and traced it lightly down my face. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, Aria. Either way, you’re mine.”

He turned, dropping his boxer slightly, revealing more of his hard cock than I ever wanted to see. “This is what your mother enjoyed till she died,” he sneered. “It’s now your turn.”

I turned my head away, shaking, helpless, my mouth open but no sound coming out.

Then knock came from the door, Sharp and sudden.

Lucien’s head snapped toward the door. He growled. “What?”

A voice of a male, respectful. “Alpha… your son is asking for you.”

Kael.

That name was a whisper in my mind. The man with eyes full of rage and sorrow. The one who had looked at me like I wasn’t filth.

Lucien muttered something under his breath, fury rolling off him in waves. He yanked his trousers back up and turned to me.

“This isn’t over,” he said darkly. “You think you’re safe, but you’re not. You’ll come crawling to me before long.”

He stepped to the door, but paused with his hand on the handle. “You’ll learn to love me, little wolf. Even if I have to rip the hate from your heart.”

Then the door slammed shut. Silence fell again, thick as fog.

I let out a strangled sob, collapsing back onto the bed. My body trembled uncontrollably. My leg throbbed with blinding pain, the mark on my neck pulsed like a brand seared into my flesh.

I felt ruined. Soiled.

Kael. Who is he? His son? Since all these tears that I have been in this pack, I haven't heard that Alpha Lucien had an older son.

But, the way he had looked at me… it wasn’t hunger. It was recognition. It was restraint.

Why had my wolf stirred when he came near, even if faintly?

Why did his presence feel like the only thing that hadn’t tried to consume me? I didn’t know the answer.