Ella’s

Two days. It had been two days since my life was signed away. I was not just a wife; I was a mate to a man who barely spoke.

Noah, the Alpha—my husband. The title felt like a cruel joke. My life with my adoptive parents was a living hell, but this was a different kind of torture. I was trapped in a mansion that felt more like a grand, stone cage with every passing hour.

We sat at the dining table. The polished wood stretched out between us like a battlefield. The Queen had left for an important meeting. Her absence was a relief because I didn't have to deal with her icy stares, but it left me alone with him.

The table was covered in plates of roast meat and steaming vegetables. I didn't have an appetite. I watched Noah. He was completely silent. He sat in his wheelchair, staring out the window with a blank expression. He held a small, silver coin in his hand, flipping it over and over between his long, elegant fingers.

I scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and looked at him. “Noah, you need to eat something,” I said. I kept my voice soft. I reached out to move his plate closer to him.

Suddenly, his hand moved. He didn't swat at me. Instead, he caught my wrist in a grip that was surprisingly strong. The spoon clattered to the floor, and potatoes splattered across the wood.

“I am not hungry,” he said. His voice was deep and rasping, like he hadn't used it in years. He didn't look at me. He just stared at the wall.

I pulled my hand back, my heart racing. My old life was full of Carol and Gerald’s cruelty, but at least I knew what to expect. Now, I was a wife to a fallen Alpha who looked like a ghost.

“Fine,” I muttered, rubbing my temples. “Starve if you want to.”

I looked at his profile. His dark hair fell over his forehead, hiding his eyes. I wondered what had truly happened during the accident that broke him. He was supposed to lead this pack. Now, he was just a shadow. Without thinking, I reached out. I brushed a stray hair away from his face.

“What happened to you, Noah?” I whispered. “What really made you like this?”

A sharp cough snapped me out of it. I whipped around. Two maids stood in the doorway with their arms crossed. They were both sneering at me. Cara, the taller one, stepped forward. Lila hovered behind her, her eyes glinting with malice.

These two had made it their mission to make my life miserable. Every word they spoke was a jab at me.

“Is there a problem?” I asked. I stood up and made my voice sharp. I was not in the mood for their insults.

Cara laughed. It was a harsh sound. “You act like you don’t know why we are here,” she said. She stepped closer to the table. “You are just a gold-digger, Ella. You are acting high and mighty, but we all know the truth. You took the Queen’s money to marry a cripple. You are pathetic.”

My fists clenched. My nails dug into my palms. “I am not a gold-digger,” I snapped. I felt my voice shake with rage. “I didn’t ask for this. If I had a choice, I wouldn't be in this house at all. Do you think I wanted to be sold off like livestock?”

Cara’s eyes narrowed. Before I could move, she stepped forward and shoved me hard. I hit the floor. A sharp pain shot through my elbows as I caught myself.

“Admit it,” she hissed, looming over me. “You are here for the money. What is your plan? Are you waiting for him to die so you can take his inheritance?”

Suddenly, Noah let out a low, sharp sound. It wasn't a wail. It was a growl.

I scrambled to my feet and looked at him. He was gripping the arms of his wheelchair so hard his knuckles were white. He looked distressed, his breathing coming in fast bursts.

“Hey,” I said softly, kneeling beside him. “It’s okay, Noah. Ignore them.”

I turned to Cara. My voice was low and cold. “Call me whatever you want, but do not disrespect your Alpha. He is still the master of this house, and you are just a servant.”

Cara snorted, but Lila tugged at her arm. They whispered to each other and finally walked away, but I saw their smirks. I ignored them and focused on Noah. His shoulders were trembling.

“Come on,” I said, forcing a gentle smile. “Let’s go out to the garden. The fresh air will be good for you.”

I pushed his wheelchair toward the glass doors. We moved into the garden. The air was cool and smelled of fresh grass. I pushed him along the stone path. I felt the eyes of other maids watching us from the hedges. I could hear their whispers on the breeze.

I sat on a stone bench near a large oak tree. Noah sat in his chair, staring at a butterfly that was landing on a nearby flower.

My mind wandered. I pictured him the way he used to be—strong, powerful, and standing on his own two feet. What would he be like if he were healed? Would he be kind to me, or would he be even colder?

“Noah,” I called softly. He didn't move, but I saw his ears twitch. “Do you hate me? Do you hate that I was forced on you?”

He didn't answer for a long time. Then, he turned his head slowly. His green eyes were deep and filled with a strange intelligence.

“You are different from the others,” he said. His voice was barely a whisper.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek. I didn't even know why I was crying. “I just want to help you,” I said. I stood up and held out my hand to him. “Let’s go back inside before it gets too dark.”

I moved to help him adjust the blanket on his lap. As I leaned over, my foot caught on a thick tree root. I stumbled forward. Noah reached out instinctively to catch me.

Because he was sitting, I fell right into his lap. My hands landed on his broad shoulders. I could feel the heat of his body through his suit. His green eyes were inches from mine. For a moment, the world stopped moving.

He didn't push me away. His gaze held mine, and I felt a strange, warm spark. It felt like the mate bond was waking up from a deep sleep. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I couldn't look away from his handsome face. He looked at my lips, and his grip on my waist tightened. For a second, he didn't look like a broken man at all. He looked like a predator.

“What do you think you are doing?” a voice snapped.

It was the Queen. She was standing at the edge of the garden, her face pale with fury.