Chapter5

Just as if something had come over them, the guards hurried to unlock my cell. One of them slipped his hand under my arm, lifting me a little too quickly. I barely had time to get my balance or adjust my shoe, so when my feet hit the ground, all my weight pressed directly on the bruised, raw skin of my heel, and I couldn’t help but wince.

I didn’t expect anyone to notice, but apparently, my… mate did. He growled low, a sound that rumbled in the air and sent a chill through me.

"Did you hurt her?" he demanded, his eyes sharp on the guard, who immediately shook his head, looking nervous.

“No, Alpha, we didn’t touch her—I swear.”

My mate—still strange to think of him that way—glared at the guard, his gaze dark and intense. Then, without a word, he strode into the cell, sweeping me into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. I went stiff in shock, my whole body locked up, and I couldn’t seem to relax. He must have noticed, but I couldn’t meet his gaze; it was too close, too much. I kept my eyes on my lap, fists clenched in my hands.

He carried me outside the cell, and instead of heading back toward the pack house as I expected, he brought me to this elegant cream-colored carriage. It was like something from a storybook, with the softest black leather-wrapped seats and massive, powerful horses in front. I’d never seen anything like it.

When he set me down, I finally found the nerve to look up at him. And the sight was...scary. His eyes, a piercing shade of gray, were framed by dark, thick lashes, and his face looked as if it had been chiseled from stone—sharp cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a hint of stubble lining his lip and chin. I wasn’t sure if he’d even noticed me staring, but when he slid into the seat beside me, I quickly looked away.

A guard closed the door, leaving us alone in the carriage. I kept silent, not wanting to make the first move, and he seemed equally content not to speak. Then, he leaned forward and carefully lifted my bruised foot, inspecting it. I tried to pull back, but his grip was firm. He looked over my tattered shoes, his expression unreadable, and for the first time in ages, I felt the weight of my omega status, the shame of it settling over me. Why would the Moon Goddess keep matching me with Alphas? Surely, he’d reject me like Tyson had.

Slowly, he untied the fabric knot I’d made around my shoe and slid it off. When he saw the state of my foot—bruised, torn—his expression shifted, darkening.

"How did this happen?" he asked suddenly, making me flinch. His brow furrowed at my reaction, but he didn’t push, waiting for my answer.

“I was running,” I said quietly.

“For how long?” His tone was calm, but it didn’t soften the intensity of his gaze. I shrugged, not wanting to say more than I had to. “From who?”

“My pack.” I kept my words clipped, my guard up. After Tyson’s pack, I knew better than to trust just anyone with my story, especially an Alpha. One wrong word and I could find myself gift-wrapped back to Tyson.

He seemed like he had more questions, but the carriage came to a stop before he could ask. He stepped out and, instead of letting me walk, scooped me up again, leading me toward the largest “cottage” I’d ever seen. It was three stories tall, with ivy curling up its stone walls, and the garden in front was beautiful, bursting with blooms. Off to the side, I could see a hint of a lake behind the house. It looked like something from a fairy tale.

Inside, the decor was minimal but elegant—polished wood, glass furniture, and pristine white couches. He carried me into a room and gently placed me on the bed.

"The bathroom’s over there," he said, nodding toward a door. "Freshen up. In half an hour, someone will check on you."

I tried to protest. “I’m fine—my feet will heal.”

He raised a brow, his voice steady but firm. “That wasn’t a question. If you don’t get cleaned up, I’ll do it for you.” With that, he left the room.

I sat there, stunned, before finally getting up and limping toward the bathroom. The tub was carved from fine wood, gleaming as sunlight streamed in through the open window. My feet were burning with every step, so I decided to sit down in the tub and wash myself that way. It wasn’t the best, but given the days I’d gone without bathing, I’d take what I could get.

Once out, I realized my bag was gone, along with my clothes. Instead, a simple gray button-up shirt and black pants had been left for me. The shirt fell past my knees, and the pants were too big, even with the drawstring pulled as tight as possible. Judging by the scent, they belonged to him.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. At first, I expected them to just come in, but after the second knock, I realized they were waiting for my permission.

“Come in,” I called out.

My mate entered with a woman beside him—a bit older than me, with blonde hair and kind blue eyes. She wore a white coat and carried a small duffel bag, which I guessed had medical supplies.

“Hi, I’m Lucy,” she greeted with a warm smile. “If it’s alright, I’d like to check you over.” I nodded, and she continued, “What’s your name?”

“Camilla,” I replied softly.

“Alright, Camilla. Are you hurt anywhere?” I just shrugged and pointed to my feet.

She asked me to lie on the bed, sitting beside me to look at my injuries. Her face softened as she took in the state of my feet, but she didn’t look disgusted or ask any prying questions. She simply got to work, dabbing my cuts with alcohol and murmuring encouragements whenever I winced. By the time she finished, she had wrapped my feet neatly in bandages.

“With regular werewolf healing, you should be good as new by tomorrow,” she said. The reminder hit me hard; I felt deflated. I should’ve known better than to think I could run from this. “I’ll check on you then.”

“I… don’t have a wolf,” I admitted quietly. She froze, glancing worriedly at my mate. I didn’t look up, already dreading what I’d see on his face.

“No worries,” she said after a pause. “I’ll get some supplements to help you heal; you’ll be back to normal soon.” She offered a small smile before adding, “And you’ll need a better diet—you’re looking malnourished.” With a polite nod to my mate, she left the room.

After a moment, he stepped closer. I kept my eyes on the floor.

“Why won’t you look at me?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly soft.

“You’re the Alpha.”

“My name is Ryker,” he corrected, and I felt my breath catch. I’d heard of Alpha Ryker Caine, the one people called the monster even monsters feared, the one who was rumored to host public executions just for fun.

Fear wrapped around my insides, and I instinctively pushed myself back on the bed. He froze, and a bitter smile played on his lips.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” he murmured, though it wasn’t a question. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“Do you like the clothes?” He sounded genuinely curious, but I couldn’t meet his gaze.

“It’s fine, thank you.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. “Help me out here. I didn’t want a mate, and I didn’t expect you to wander into my territory. But you don’t have to sit there like a scared puppy.” His words stung, and I pulled my knees to my chest, stung by his tone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he added, softer this time.

“If I could have my bag, I’d get out of your way,” I said quickly, trying to keep my voice steady. “You can reject me. I’ll leave.”

He looked surprised, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m not rejecting you.”

“But you said you didn’t want a mate.”

“I did,” he admitted, “but you didn’t end up in my territory by accident, and there’s no chance I’m letting you go in this condition.”

I hesitated, confused. “What are you saying?”

“Welcome to the Blood Stone pack,” he said. “It’s your new home.”