CHAPTER THREE

We arrive at his lair. I am tired, exhausted from the long journey through the forest.

His pack watch as Romulus gets down from his horse. He holds a hand out to me.

"Come on," he says. "You're home now."

I gulp. I already hate it here. But I have no choice but to take his hand.

I hop down to the ground and look around.

His pack glare at me. Snarl. Sneer. I can tell they do not like me.

His pack: big and hairy and scary and brutal and strong and fast and ready to tear me apart if I try to run.

I am terrified.

I force myself not to show it.

"May I introduce my bride-to-be," Romulus tells them.

He smiles and I cringe.

I don't want to marry him.

But I can't do anything about it.

I am in the middle of his pack. Surrounded. Their eyes bore right into me.

I wish I could leave. I wish I could be with someone else. I wish things were different.

"We will be the perfect couple," he says to me. And then he kisses me on the cheek.

But I do not smile.

"Aren't you going to address your people?" he asks.

I do not say anything.

I do not speak.

I am not his.

I will never be his.

His eyes narrow. "Fine," he says, his voice cold. "This way."

He points toward a cave entrance.

"In there?" I ask, a tremble in my voice.

He nods, slowly, a sinister smile on his lips.

I gulp and follow him into his cave.

It is dark, dank and moldy. It is nowhere I would choose to live.

We are alone: just the two of us.

He leads me around the cave. He shows me all of the treasures he has collected. He shows me his armor, his weapons, his hunting trophies.

Then he leads me to a room.

"This is my bedchamber," he says, turning to me. "Our bed chamber."

I look around.

The bed is big and old and wooden. It is covered in furs and animal skins. It is the only piece of furniture in the room. The thought of sleeping in it with him fills me with dread.

"This is where you will live," he says. "Where we will mate."

I swallow.

Romulus approaches me. He is tall, tall as a tree.

He stares at me with his bright eyes.

He has a scar on his face, a strong, jagged scar. It runs down the side of his cheek, into his dark hair. A battle wound, I wonder. He seems fierce. The type to fight. And the type to win.

I can't believe I am here, in his lair. I can't believe this is real. That I volunteered to be here and left my pack behind.

I gulp. I'm afraid.

I don't want to stay here. I don't want to live here.

I won't, I decide.

I won't be his.

I won't live with him. Mate with me. I won't be his bride.

I will take the poison, instead, and end my life rather than live as his bride.

"Are you looking forward to the wedding?" Romulus asks.

I whirl round to face him. "You know I am not," I reply.

He laughs. "You're headstrong," he says. "I like that."

He repulses me.

I clutch the poison root in my pocket. As soon as I am alone, I will take it.

Romulus starts to remove his armor. He pulls off his gloves and his boots and throws them to the floor.

I stare at him. He's big. Muscular. He looks

strong.

He looks over at me and I don't like the look in his eyes. I don't like the way he looks at me, like he wants me.

He walks over to the bed and pulls the blanket down.

"Get under the blanket," he tells me.

"What?" I gasp. I don't want him to touch me.

"You heard me. Get under the blanket."

I don't want to. I don't want to spend the night alone with him. I don't want to do this.

I want to be free.

I want to be away from him.

I want to be anywhere else on Earth.

"No," I say.

"I am your Alpha now," he says. "Do as I say."

I stay silent and stare up at the roof of the cave. I have begun to shiver.

Finally, I shake my head. "I won't."

He glowers. "If you defy my orders, then you will spend the night in jail."

I hold my head up high. "Fine. I will go to jail."

Jail would be better than getting into that bed. Anything would.

He grabs my arm roughly and drags me down the hall to the jail.

"Romulus," I say as he tugs me.

"What?"

"Will you ever let me go home?"

"Never." His eyes flash with anger. "You are mine. You will be my bride. And I will never let you go."

He stops at a large wooden door and opens it. Inside it is dark. A bare, dank room. My jail cell. My room for the night.

I gulp.

"And," he continues, a steely glint in his eyes, "if you try to run away, I will kill you."

I feel a chill in my bones. I feel a chill in my soul.

"Do you understand me?" he asks, his face dark and cruel.

I nod.

Then he throws me inside the cell and slams the door shut behind me.

I fall to my knees on the hard ground. I listen to the sound of his footsteps fading way.

For the first time since I left my pack, I am alone. Now is my chance.

I still have the root in my pocket.

I reach for it. I will take fate into my own hands. I will end my life so I do not have to live a life with him as his bride.

With shaking hands, I take the root from my pocket and bring it up to my lips.