The packhouse loomed out of the storm like a fortress carved into the mountainside, its windows glowing faintly in the night like the eyes of a predator watching from the dark. My soaked dress clung to my skin as Kael dragged me forward, his grip like iron around my arm. The gates groaned open, massive slabs of iron and wood bristling with runes that glimmered faintly in the stormlight. Warriors flanked either side, their faces carved in stone, their gazes sharp with contempt.

They watched me the way wolves watch a deer caught in the open—something fragile, something unworthy, something that did not belong. To them, I wasn’t Kael’s mate. I was a Silverfang trespasser, a punishment delivered to their Alpha against his will.

Kael said nothing as we crossed the threshold. The towering doors of the packhouse closed behind us, muting the storm to a distant growl. Inside, warmth wrapped around me, though it brought no comfort. The great hall stretched high, with vaulted ceilings painted with scenes of wolves in battle. Thick banners of Mooncrest blue and silver hung from stone walls, shifting faintly in the draft. A massive fire crackled in the central hearth, its light spilling over warriors gathered at long tables. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. Every eye found me.

The air thickened with whispers.

Silverfang… traitor… why her?

My nails bit into my palms, but I forced my chin high. I would not shrink beneath their stares.

Kael did not slow. His hand remained locked on my arm, dragging me up the sweeping staircase, his strides purposeful, impatient. My legs ached to keep up, my lungs burning. He stopped at last before a tall wooden door banded with iron. Without looking at me, he shoved it open.

“This is your room,” he said, voice clipped. “You stay until summoned.”

I peered inside. The chamber was warm and richly furnished. Velvet curtains framed tall windows that looked out into the storm. The bed was carved from oak, covered in heavy blankets. A fire glowed in the hearth, painting the stone walls in shades of gold and shadow. To anyone else, it would have been comfort. To me, it was a cage dressed in silk.

“Why not throw me in the cells?” My voice dripped with challenge, though my chest still heaved from the climb.

Kael finally looked at me, his golden eyes like molten metal. “Because I want to see how long your pride lasts, little mate.”

Then he released me, turned, and slammed the door.

The silence that followed was worse than his presence.

I let out a slow breath, my hand rising to the burning mark etched against my collarbone. It throbbed faintly, a cruel reminder of the bond neither of us had chosen. I crossed the chamber, tracing my fingers along the frost-bitten glass of the window. Outside, the storm howled. Inside, the fire snapped and hissed, shadows writhing along the walls.

I should have felt safe here. But the walls pressed too close, and the knowledge that Kael’s command was absolute weighed heavily than chains.

I paced until my legs ached, whispering to myself like a vow. “I will not break.”

The words felt fragile, carried away with each creak of the floorboards. I imagined the eyes of his warriors still on me, the mocking sneers of the pack who saw me not as a Luna but as a wound in their pride. The air itself felt hostile, thick with memories not my own. Every corner of this place reeked of Mooncrest power, its victories etched into the stones, its banners screaming defiance. And me? I was a reminder of their greatest loss.

A knock at the door startled me. I spun, pulse leaping. The door opened a crack, and a girl slipped inside, balancing a tray. She was small, her steps quick and light, brown curls framing a delicate face. Wide eyes darted over me, curiosity and fear mingling.

“You’re… her,” she breathed.

I frowned. “Her?”

“The Alpha’s mate.” She spoke the word as though it were a title heavy enough to crush me.

She set the tray down on the small table near the fire. The scent of roasted meat, fresh bread, and spiced wine filled the room, my empty stomach twisting.

“I’m not hungry,” I said quickly, though the lie hollowed my voice.

She hesitated. “He said you’d say that. He also said…” Her voice faltered, her gaze sliding away. “He said you’re expected in the dining hall tomorrow. Properly dressed. No sulking.”

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Charming, isn’t he?”

Her lips twitched, almost a smile, but she quickly hid it. “I’m Mira. Omega.”

I studied her. Mira looked fragile, yet there was steel beneath her timidity. An Omega in a hostile pack learned quickly how to endure.

“You’ve served him long?” I asked, tearing off a piece of bread despite myself.

“Since I was a child,” she said softly. “He’s not…” She paused, searching for the word. “He’s not as heartless as they say. Not always.”

I arched a brow. “Do you believe that? Or is that what you tell yourself to survive?”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t flinch. “He’s complicated.”

“Complicated men don’t leash unwilling women to their side.”

Silence hung between us. The fire crackled, filling the emptiness. Mira shifted her weight, her eyes soft with something that looked like pity. I hated it.

“Do you think he’ll kill me?” I asked suddenly. The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Mira’s fingers tightened on the edge of the tray. Her gaze flicked to the door, then back to me. “No,” she said at last. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t break you.”

The words sank like stones in my chest.

Mira turned to leave, but as her hand closed on the doorknob, a faint sound rose in the corridor beyond. A whisper, low and guttural. I froze, my wolf prickling beneath my skin. Mira stiffened, her head tilting slightly, listening.

“What is it?” I asked.

Her face drained of color. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s late. Rest while you can.”

But her hand trembled on the doorknob. Her eyes flicked toward the shadows beyond the threshold before she forced herself out.

The door clicked shut, leaving me in the silence again.

I stood rooted to the spot, every muscle taut, straining to hear. The whisper came again, faint, almost like the wind. But it wasn’t the storm outside; it was lower, curling, deliberate. A language my human ears couldn’t catch, but my wolf recoiled from.

I backed away from the door, my pulse thundering in my ears. Shadows stretched across the chamber walls, dancing with the firelight, twisting into shapes I didn’t want to recognize. My hand rose to the mate mark burning faintly under my skin, the echo of Kael’s earlier grip still seared into my flesh.

Something prowled here. Something that did not belong to Kael, or perhaps something he chose not to control.

My stomach twisted, not from hunger but from unease.

Because Mira had lied.

She had heard it too, that whisper in the corridor, too low and too wrong to be human.

And though she hadn’t spoken it, I knew the truth with a certainty that chilled me.

Kael wasn’t the only danger in this house.

Something else was watching.

And for the first time since being dragged here, I wondered if being Kael’s mate was the lesser of two evils.