Chapter 3: Shackles and Shadows

Chapter 3: Shackles and Shadows

The morning of the festival dawned over the pack’s grand mansion, casting a soft light through the tall windows and illuminating the bustle of activity that had taken over every hall and corner. The walls, lined with ancient tapestries and relics of the pack’s history, seemed to amplify every sound—the quiet shuffling of maids, the heavy footsteps of warriors, and the hushed murmurs of pack members moving about in preparation for the evening’s events. Cassia moved through it all, her broom in hand, with an aching familiarity to her routine, her heart as heavy as the burden of her place among them.

Today was the annual pack festival—a gathering meant to honor alliances, strengthen ties, and allow leaders to showcase the unity of their packs. But for Cassia, it was just another day to be reminded of her place, to be invisible while surrounded by the powerful. The grand hall was awash in rich colors, the finest linens spread over the tables, and the tantalizing scents of spices wafting from the kitchens. Cassia’s job was to ensure it all gleamed, her hands raw from scrubbing, her shoulders tight with the strain of the endless tasks.

Lady Morwenna, Beta Rhett’s mother, loomed nearby, observing with an unrelenting gaze that sent a chill through Cassia’s spine. Tall and regal, with eyes as sharp and cold as ice, Morwenna was a woman who commanded respect and silence with just a look. Cassia, feeling the weight of that stare, kept her head down, her movements precise and unremarkable, each step calculated to avoid drawing attention.

Even among the pack’s whispers, she could catch fragments of the conversations around her, pity mingled with disdain as pack members shot glances in her direction. She’d grown used to these glances, the whispers that painted her as less than the others. But there were moments, like now, where the bitterness rose in her chest like bile.

Why am I treated as less than a servant? she wondered, her fingers cramping as she polished the last staircase. I’m pack, just as much as they are. And yet…

Her thoughts drifted, unwillingly, to Rhett. Only weeks ago, she’d allowed herself the luxury of hope—a fragile, dangerous thing, fed by his touch, his whispered promises in the dark. He’d taken her in ways she hadn’t thought possible, broken through the barriers she’d kept around her heart. And yet, the morning after, he’d left her shattered, his decision as unyielding as it was cruel. A rejection not only of her love but of her very being.

The sound of footsteps approaching drew her attention. As she straightened, tray of polished glasses in hand, her gaze collided with that of a stranger at the entrance.

Lucian, Beta of the Blackwood Pack, leaned against the doorway, his posture relaxed yet undeniably commanding. His dark hair fell just past his collarbone, and his eyes held a gleam of intrigue, a subtle danger that seemed woven into every inch of him. Tall and broad-shouldered, Lucian exuded a quiet, effortless power, one that contrasted sharply with the rigid control Rhett displayed. And as his gaze swept over the room, lingering on Cassia for a moment longer than necessary, a strange tension filled the air.

Cassia quickly dropped her gaze, feeling heat rise to her cheeks, her grip tightening on the tray in her hands.

“Cassia,” Lady Morwenna’s cold voice sliced through her reverie, bringing her back sharply. “Don’t gawk. We still have much to prepare.”

Humiliated, Cassia inclined her head, feeling the sharp sting of Lady Morwenna’s words echo in her mind. I’m not a child, she wanted to say. I’m a member of this pack. But the words remained trapped, swallowed by years of silence and the unspoken rules that kept her bound to her place.

From across the room, Rhett watched, his gaze unreadable as it lingered on her. He was silent, his presence a heavy reminder of everything she would never have. She hadn’t noticed him slip into the hall, his posture as cold and unyielding as stone, but the brief flicker of something in his eyes was unmistakable.

Upstairs, Rhett turned from the balcony, frustration mingling with regret. He could see Cassia from where he stood, her form small and subdued among the bustling servants. The very sight of her, the way her shoulders curved as though braced against a weight, stirred a longing in him he fought daily to suppress. He thought of her smile, of the way she’d looked at him that night, all vulnerability and trust, a look that had haunted him ever since.

For that single night, he’d allowed himself to forget the impossible gulf between them. Cassia had been his, her warmth a balm to his ever-guarded heart. But with the morning, reality had clawed its way back in. He’d made his choice, bound by duty to the pack, to the unbreakable legacy of his bloodline, and it had cost him more than he dared admit. Even now, the thought of her with someone else twisted inside him, a possessiveness he couldn’t shake, despite the walls he’d built around himself.

You can’t have her, he reminded himself, jaw clenched. Not without destroying her.

Cassia could feel Lynx’s impatience building within her, the wolf’s longing for freedom a silent, relentless pull that gnawed at her insides. She moved through her tasks, her senses dulled to the mansion’s noises, each step weighted by the longing she held back. The scent of the woods called to her, the familiar hum of the forest a soothing balm she could almost taste.

Finally, when her duties allowed, she slipped out, telling herself it was only to fetch supplies. She darted past the crowded hallways, through the mansion’s heavy doors, and into the cool shadows of the forest beyond.

As the trees closed around her, Cassia let go, the transformation sweeping over her like a breath of relief. Her bones shifted, muscles contracting, her human form yielding to Lynx’s, pure white fur flowing over her frame. The forest filled with new scents, sharper, more vivid, every sound alive with clarity as Lynx breathed in the earth, the freedom she so craved.

In this form, Cassia was unbound. She was not a servant, not a rejected mate. She was Lynx, a creature of the wild, untamed and alive. She leapt through the undergrowth, her paws silent against the leaves, her senses alert and sharp.

But she wasn’t alone.

Leaning casually against a tree, Lucian waited, his gaze tracking her every movement with a calm amusement that made her heart race. She shifted back quickly, her breath uneven as she tried to steady herself, heat coloring her cheeks. Lucian’s expression softened, a faint smile curving his lips as he watched her.

“You should be careful,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through her. “Wandering alone out here… could be dangerous.”

The implication lingered, an unspoken understanding in his tone that caught her off guard. She couldn’t tell if he was mocking her, or if there was something else behind his words—something deeper, a flicker of understanding that he didn’t want her to see.

“Why do you care?” she shot back, lifting her chin to meet his gaze, defiance sparking in her eyes.

Lucian’s smile widened, but his gaze grew more intent. “Because, Cassia, strength doesn’t always come from status. And sometimes, the ones they cast aside are the ones with the most power.”

The words lingered in the air, filling her with an inexplicable longing she couldn’t place. But before she could respond, Lucian’s face hardened, the faint glimmer of playfulness replaced by a warning edge.

“Stay away from Rhett,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You may not see it, but he’s as much a threat to you as anything else out here.”

Her heart stuttered, though she masked the flash of fear that rose within her. Why does he care? she wondered, sensing a tension between him and Rhett that went far deeper than she understood.

When she returned to the mansion, Rhett was waiting, his expression dark with a fury she’d rarely seen. His jaw tightened as he took in her disheveled appearance, his gaze stormy and cold.

“Where were you?” he demanded, his voice a growl laced with something deeper—something dangerously close to possession. “Running off alone, when you have duties here… You’re a disgrace to this pack.”

Cassia looked up, a rare defiance flashing in her gaze as she met his stare. “And why do you care?” she retorted, her voice steady despite the tumult in her chest. “You’ve made it clear I mean nothing to you, so why does it matter?”

For a moment, a flicker of something almost like regret passed through Rhett’s eyes, but it was gone before she could name it. The mask fell back into place, leaving her as uncertain and frustrated as ever.

“You’re a disgrace,” he repeated, but his voice wavered, as if he too wasn’t entirely convinced.