The Cold Arrival

Elowen

The door to my guest room flew open with a sharp, echoing crack that jolted me from my exhausted sleep. I sat up in a blind panic, my heart hammering against my ribs. I scrambled backward, clutching the heavy white comforter tightly to my chest. I was still wearing nothing but my simple underwear from the night before, having refused to wear the clothes Killian’s proxy had provided.

A strange man stalked into the room, his heavy boots thudding against the carpet. He didn't bother to knock, and he certainly didn't look away when he saw me clutching the blankets. He marched straight to the edge of the bed and shoved a thick stack of documents toward me.

"Sign these," he demanded.

My eyes were deeply swollen from crying all night. I blinked hard, trying to focus on his face, but my vision remained heavy and blurred. "What for?" my voice rasped, sounding weak to my own ears.

"Your wedding certificate and your agreement," the man barked, his tone leaving zero room for debate. He thrust the papers closer, nearly hitting my shoulder.

I reached out with trembling fingers and took the stack. The print was small, dense, and confusing. "Okay, let me read the agreement first."

He snatched the top of the clipboard, keeping a firm grip on the metal clip. "No time. The lawyer needs these back right now. You and the Alpha will be returning to his main house in thirty minutes. Sign it."

My heart sank into my stomach. "Am I not going to live here?"

He just shook his head, staring at me with a blank, impatient expression. I knew he wouldn't give me any real answers. I was just another chore he had to cross off his list. With only thirty minutes left and a hostile stranger breathing down my neck, I grabbed the pen. I blindly signed my name on the dotted lines, praying I wasn't signing my life away more than I already had.

He took the papers back, gave me a curt nod, and walked out, leaving the door wide open.

I rolled out of bed and rushed into the adjacent bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and used a bit of sharp mouthwash I found on the marble counter. I didn't have a toothbrush. I didn't have a hairbrush. I walked back into the bedroom and pulled open the heavy wooden wardrobe. The oversized, ill-fitting slacks the proxy had pointed out yesterday were hanging there. I pulled them on over my underwear, rolling the waistband twice just to keep them from falling down. I threw on a plain shirt that swallowed my frame and sat on the edge of a chair, waiting for my cue to leave.

I wanted nothing more than to say a proper goodbye to my father. I needed to hold him one last time, but I knew Killian’s men wouldn't allow it. I resolved to call him once I found a phone charger.

Less than twenty minutes later, a different guard escorted me out of the massive house. I walked down the grand steps, expecting to see my new husband waiting for me. Instead, I found a row of black SUVs idling in the driveway. The guard opened the back door of the third car in the convoy and gestured for me to get inside. I was being placed in a separate car. Killian couldn't even stand to share a ride with his new bride.

The drive to the Obsidian pack settlement took two agonizing hours. I sat in silence, staring out the tinted window as the landscape shifted. The familiar, comforting woods of my home territory slowly gave way to the jagged, imposing borders of Killian's lands. The air outside seemed to change, growing thicker, charged with a heavy, intimidating energy that made my skin prickle.

As we finally rolled into the heart of the settlement, a massive crowd lined the paved streets. The moment the lead car came into view, the pack members erupted into genuine, deafening cheers. They waved and shouted their Alpha's name, their faces lit up with adoration. I pressed my hand against the cold glass, disgust twisting my stomach. They loved him. They had no idea their Alpha was a manipulative, evil man who held innocent packs hostage just to stroke his own ego.

The convoy stopped in front of the Packhouse. It was a sprawling, ostentatious mansion built from dark stone and heavy timber, dwarfing the Packhouse back home. The sheer display of immense wealth made me feel even smaller in my baggy clothes.

A maid waited on the front steps. The moment my boots hit the pavement, she motioned for me to follow her. She didn't speak. We bypassed the grand halls, the sweeping staircases, and the sunlit corridors. She led me down a narrow, isolated hallway on the second floor and opened a plain wooden door.

The room was incredibly small. Strikingly ordinary. A basic bed, a standard dresser, and a small window looking out over the training grounds. It felt more like a servant's quarters than the Luna's suite.

"Someone will bring your luggage in a moment," the maid said, turning to leave.

"I didn't bring any luggage," I told her, my voice echoing in the quiet space.

Before she could respond, heavy footsteps echoed outside. Two massive men pushed past her, hauling four large, expensive suitcases. The store tags were still attached to the leather handles. They dropped the bags at the foot of the bed and walked out without a word.

The moment the door shut, my stomach let out a hollow growl. I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. I paced the floor, too terrified to leave the room. What if I took a wrong turn? What if I bumped into Killian and provoked his temper? I stayed put.

An hour passed before a polite server knocked and pushed a cart into the room. A silver cloche covered a hearty, steaming meal of roasted meat and vegetables. The portion was huge; I doubted I could finish half of it.

"Excuse me," I asked softly before the server turned away. "Could I get a charger for my phone?"

"Right away, ma'am," he promised.

He returned minutes later with a white cord. I plugged in my dead phone and waited for the screen to light up. The moment it did, I dialed my father's number.

He answered on the second ring. "Elowen? How are you, sweetie?"

Hearing his warm, familiar voice cracked the fragile wall holding back my tears. It brought a tiny sliver of comfort to my shattered heart. "I'm okay, Dad. Have you heard from him? How is he treating you?"

"He hasn't spoken to me directly today," my father explained, his tone heavy with caution. "But he left me in charge of our old pack. I have to report to him, though. I can't make a single decision without his approval. I guess he took you with him for insurance."

I gripped the edge of the mattress. Killian was letting my father play Alpha, but he was holding the strings. My dark reality settled over me like a suffocating blanket. I was nothing more than a living insurance policy. We exchanged our goodbyes, and I promised to call him often.

I spent the rest of the miserable day confined to those four walls. My inner wolf, Lumina, paced in the back of my mind. She whined, begging for a wild run in the woods to burn off the mounting stress. I denied her. The territory outside my window was hostile and unfamiliar. My paralyzing fear of wandering into enemy territory kept me grounded in the tiny room.

To pass the time, I opened the suitcases. The first was packed with high-end toiletries, expensive cosmetics, and silk lingerie. The second held custom casual wear and soft nightgowns. The third was filled with formal evening gowns, and the last was crammed with designer shoes and purses. I spent an hour sorting the clothes into the small wardrobe, trying to make the space feel less temporary.

When the room was quiet again, I grabbed the remote and turned on the television mounted on the wall. I flicked through mindless channels until I settled on a bright, loud game show. It did nothing to numb the ache in my chest. I switched the channel and caught the middle of a romantic comedy. Two people smiling, laughing, running toward each other in the rain.

I watched the screen, and the tears started falling again. I sobbed into my hands, my shoulders shaking. The bleak, inescapable reality of my loveless, celibate future fully sank in. I would never have romance. I would never have a mate who looked at me with love.

Utterly exhausted from crying, I pulled a soft pair of new pajamas from the drawer, slipped them on, and crawled into bed. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I woke with a terrifying start.

My body reflexively scrambled backward, my spine slamming hard against the headboard. The room was pitch-dark. A massive silhouette loomed right beside the mattress.

Pure panic seized my chest. My breath hitched. He was here. My first frantic thought was that he had finally come to forcefully claim me as his wife.

"Wake up, Elowen," his deep, rumbling voice echoed in the quiet space.

Alpha Killian.

He stepped much closer to the edge of the bed. His large, calloused hand reached out through the dark and brushed directly against my bare thighs. I flinched, my skin burning at his sudden touch.

"Were you seeing someone before this?" he asked. His tone was ice cold. "Were you dating anyone?"

I shook my head firmly, pulling my legs away from his hand. "No. No one."

His jaw tightened. "Good. You are not allowed to date or sleep with anyone here. I will not claim you, neither will I sleep with you. I believe it is a small price to pay to keep your father and your old pack safe."

He leaned in, his dark eyes catching the faint moonlight seeping through the window. "If you run away, I will kill them. We might be married, but you are not my luna and you will never be. Are we clear?"

Desperation fueled my response. The suffocating weight of his words crushed the last bit of air from my lungs. "Am I going to live like this for the rest of my life?" I pleaded passionately, staring up into his dark eyes. "Are you going to let me go eventually?"

Killian stared back with a deadpan, emotionless expression. "I am afraid I am not going to let you go."

Hot anger surged through my veins, burning away the fear. He was locking me in a cage and throwing away the key. "Then it is only fair you let me have affairs and flings," I demanded recklessly, my voice shaking with raw emotion.

Pure murder flashed intensely in his piercing eyes. The air in the room grew heavy with his suffocating dominance. "If my wife was sleeping around, that would affect my reputation. Learn celibacy. It will help you," he growled.

I scoffed, glaring at his glaring hypocrisy. "Are you celibate?" I snapped back.

Killian stood up to his full, towering height. He looked down at me, a dark, menacing smirk spreading across his face. "Don't cross the line with me, Elowen."

He turned on his heel, his heavy boots moving toward the door.

"Wait," I called out quickly. "Can I at least go on runs with my wolf?"

He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Feel free. Provided you stay strictly within the established territory borders."

"And who is going to show me around your unfamiliar lands?" I challenged.

Killian glanced over his shoulder. He smiled evilly. "No one."

The door clicked shut, leaving me entirely alone in the suffocating darkness. My chest heaved as profound rage boiled within my stomach. This was not a marriage. I was a hostage. A prisoner of war traded to secure a fake peace treaty for my father. Killian had laid out his hypocritical rules, ensuring I remained isolated and trapped.

Fully realizing I would never be genuinely wanted in this place, I lay back down on the pillows. I stared up at the dark ceiling, bitterly hoping the long years ahead would pass in a blur, or that I might die a natural death just to finally be free of the bastard.