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He’s walking across in long, majestic strides, his tall frame commanding attention without effort.

Even from here, I can feel the weight of his presence, the raw power he carries like a second skin.

His black hair is slightly disheveled, contrasting with the crisp grey shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing forearms marked with faint scars and his pack insignia tattoo.

I had not noticed that before. But seeing him this way makes my blood flare with warmth.

Does he have more? I've never seen him naked.

We fucked in the woods that one time, but I still don't know the grooves on his abdomen, I still don't know what it feels like to roam all over his body with my tongue.

The light sheen of sweat on his neck makes me want to reach in, bury my face there, get lost in his sent, graze my teeth across his skin.

My stomach twists, my wolf whining at the sight of him.

I sit by the window, letting the thin glass barrier separate me from the world outside. In essence, from Kieran, knowing that the intensity of my heat will draw him to me like a moth to flame, and I will be drawn to him like a fish to water.

Yesterday in the hall, even while he was demeaning me, I cursed my body for betraying me. For letting the scent of my slick waft between us, for letting him see the arousal he sparks in me, the things he does to my body. His breath was warm on my face. His eyes had darkened with desire.

Curse the Goddess.

He’s the last one I should consider getting into bed with.

And yet, I can’t tear my eyes away.

My wolf growls softly, her voice filling my head. Mate.

I clench my fists and press them on the cool wood of the windowsill, letting the sharp edge bite into my palms to jar me out of this delirious attraction I still feel for him.

We need him, she whines.

No. I sure as hell don't need a bully like him. He goes about and does whatever he wants. I don't care that he's my Mate. He didn't care two years ago, and I'm pretty sure he still doesn't care.

He rejected me once. Dismissed me without a second thought, like I was nothing more than a threat to be neutralized.

But now, I have to be reminded of everything I thought we could have been, everything I had built my hopes up for.

Now trapped in his territory, I cannot escape him anymore.

The heat simmering in my veins doesn’t help.

It’s a dull ache that sharpens whenever I’m near him, a cruel side effect of proximity and a bond that refuses to break.

Kieran pauses in the courtyard, speaking to Damon, the Beta who dragged me here after Kieran’s interrogation and humiliation.

From what I noticed yesterday, he is Kieran's Beta.

Another loyal dog who aims to please his Alpha.

His posture is as rigid as he nods, his expression serious, before gesturing toward the estate's perimeter.

Whatever they’re discussing, it looks important.

I wonder what it’s about, and my instincts are focused on the gear of their warriors, the placement of their guards, the timing of their patrols, and other security protocols.

The surveillance tech I have noticed all over the estate makes me curious.

I wonder just what kinds of tech Kieran has put in place to protect his pack.

I let my gaze linger on Kieran a moment longer, my chest tightening as the sunlight catches on the sharp angles of his jaw.

Then, I force myself to look away.

I’m still replaying the scene when the door to my isolation room creaks open. I whirl around, my muscles tensing instinctively .

Two men I don’t recognize step inside. Their faces are impassive, their posture rigid.

“Come with us,” one of them says, his voice flat.

I hesitate, my eyes narrowing. “Why?”

“Alpha’s orders,” the other replies, his tone leaving no room for argument.

My stomach churns as I glance at the door. I’ve learned enough about Moonfang’s hierarchy to know that disobeying an Alpha’s command is a quick way to earn a punishment. But that doesn’t mean I trust this sudden change.

Then I remember the phone. If they find it after I've left, there's no telling what will happen. I can't trigger any more accusations and attacks.

“I need to change,” I blurt out.

“We do not have time for–”

“It'll only take a minute. I'm sure your Alpha's orders can wait.”

They are skeptical, but they step away. “One minute,” one of them warns.

I slip the phone from under the mattress and hide it in my underwear. They won't touch my body unless they want to risk their Alpha tearing their heads off.

They come in a second after I've secured the phone and changed into a new top that one of the Omegas brought this morning.

I follow them. One is in front of me and one is behind me.

They lead me through the estate’s winding halls, the polished floors gleaming under the warm light filtering through the high windows. It’s a stark contrast to the cramped, barren room I’ve been kept in.

Finally, they stop in front of a door, its dark wood carved with intricate patterns. One of them gestures for me to enter.

I step inside cautiously, my eyes immediately scanning the space.

It’s a bedroom. A real bedroom, not the sterile box I’ve been confined to.

The bed is massive, its frame made of dark mahogany and draped in soft grey linens.

A plush armchair sits by the window, its deep green fabric contrasting the warm beige walls.

The air smells faintly of lavender, clean and soothing.

The curtains are thick, and their soft grey and baby pink pastels spark a glee in me.

I’ve never been a girly girl; I always preferred spartan bedrooms similar to what I had in the barracks back at Nightclaw. But I am not mad at it.

For a moment, I just stand there, stunned. I’m almost waiting for this to be a cruel joke, for it to be a tease that Kieran has arranged to make me even more miserable.

“Enjoy,” one of the wolves says before they close the door behind me, leaving me alone.

I take a tentative step forward, my boots sinking into the thick rug beneath my feet. The room is beautiful and luxurious, but it feels wrong.

I sit on the edge of the bed, my fingers brushing against the smooth fabric of the blanket. It’s softer than anything I’ve touched in years but fills me with unease instead of comfort.

Why now?

Why move me here after treating me like the scum under his shoes? Why offer me comfort when I know he can’t stand my guts for having a life away from him after what he did?

The unease settles deeper, and I stand abruptly, pacing the room. Every corner feels too perfect, too deliberate. I glance at the wardrobe, the small desk by the window, and the framed artwork on the walls. It’s too much, like a bribe wrapped in a pretty package.

My eyes land on a tray of food on a small table near the bed: fresh bread, steaming soup, and a glass of something that looks like wine.

I don’t touch it.

Instead, I cross to the window and push it open, letting the cool air rush in. The scent of clean mountain air and damp earth fills the room, grounding me.

Don’t trust it, I tell myself. Don’t trust Kieran.

I lean against the windowsill, gaze drifting back to the courtyard below. Kieran is gone.

My wolf stirs again, her frustration bleeding into my thoughts.

He’s trying to manipulate us, I growl internally, though the words feel hollow.

The ache that settled in my belly and my groin reminds me that no matter how much I want to hate him, part of me still aches for him.

And that terrifies me .

The next morning, I find a dress folded neatly on the armchair by the window. It’s simple but elegant, a deep green that matches the chair’s fabric. Seeing it makes my chest tighten with a mix of anger and something I can’t name.

I ignore it, pulling on the same clothes I wore yesterday.

The same tray of food sits on the table, the bread slightly stale now, the soup cold.

I still haven't touched it. Kieran might be trying to drug me. Or worse still, poison me as vengeance. He can’t physically harm me as his Fated Mate.

His wolf will not let him enact that bloodthirsty on me despite the derision he has for me.

But he is not beyond taking me out in other ways.

My stomach growls, and I ignore it. I’ve been hungrier.

This is not the first time I will experience lack.

Hours pass, the silence of the room pressing in on me. I pace, I sit, and I stare out the window. And all the while, I wonder what Kieran is planning.

The door opens again that evening, and this time, Damon steps inside. His expression is unreadable, but something in his eyes makes my stomach twist.

“The Alpha has asked me to check on you,” he says, his tone flat.

“Of course he has,” I say, crossing my arms. “What does he want now?”

Damon’s lips press into a thin line. “You should be grateful for the accommodations. Most wouldn’t receive such…courtesy.”

I snort, the sound bitter. “Courtesy? Is that what this is?”

“Make of it what you will. But you are doing yourself no good by starving. I’ll have a maid take care of this for you and bring you something fresh. Ensure that you eat this time,” Damon instructs me in a no-nonsense tone before he leaves.

I know I shouldn’t take it for granted that this estate is my fortress of safety right now, but safety doesn’t mean freedom, and it doesn’t mean trust.

I glance at the untouched food, the dress still draped over the chair.

I won’t let myself be swayed by comfort or extravagance. Not when the stakes are this high.

Not when my life—and Ayana’s—still hang in the balance.