The car door slammed shut behind her with a metallic clang that echoed in her mind. She finally came to her senses. Callen was left behind, they have still not buried him or burnt him. How could she leave?
"Please! Let me still till his burial. I will come with you then. I beg you, I want to be with him." her cries were full of screams that could wrench gut. She looked like a ghost, in pain drying slowly. But luca only looked at her coldly and did not give in.
Elara thrashed immediately, wild with grief and fury, kicking at the door, the windows, anything she could reach. Her wrists burned from the bruising grip he had left on her arm.
"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice hoarse, body wracked with sobs. "You monster—"
Luca didn't even flinch. He sat beside her in the back seat, calm and composed, as if she wasn't unleashing all her rage beside him.
"I didn't kill him," he said quietly. "Elara, I came to save you—"
"Don't!" she snapped, eyes blazing. "Don't you dare say his name again. You don't get to talk about saving anyone! Your lies would not work on me!"
"You don't know that," he said evenly. "They were already out for you. I only followed the blood trail you left."
"I left nothing!" she shouted, clawing at the door. "Let me out! LET ME OUT!"
His patience snapped. In a flash, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her around to face him, their faces only inches apart.
"Struggle again," he growled, voice low and lethal, "and I swear, I'll bring the whole pack to its knees. I will gut every wolf of that pack. Your friends, Your precious Tamara, even Garron."
Elara froze. The air stilled around them, thick with threat and grief and unbearable tension. Her breath caught in her throat. Luca's grip on her wrist loosened slightly, but his eyes never lost their fire.
"Do you understand me?" he asked, quieter now, but no less dangerous. "Your fight ends here. Or they will start to protect themselves."
She turned away, trembling, the fire inside her buried beneath the crushing weight of helplessness. Her claws retracted, her shoulders sagged. She said nothing but silent tears slid down her cheeks again.
The rest of the drive passed in agonizing silence. Elara kept her eyes fixed on the window, heart splintering as the forest faded and unfamiliar l lands emerged.
This wasn't her world but she could do nothing to stop him from taking her away.
Tall buildings, wide streets, shining lights. It was nothing like the hidden safety of her old pack's woods. The air smelled different here. It made her stomach twist.
They finally stopped in front of a towering black mansion, surrounded by high gates and silent guards. It looked more like a fortress than a home.
Luca stepped out first, then opened the door on her side.
"Get out."
Elara didn't move. Her fingers clenched her blood stained dress tightly. He sighed and reached in, grabbing her arm and dragging her out like a parcel.
She stumbled, glaring up at him. "You could've just killed me," she spat.
"You think this would be better?" he muttered, dragging her toward the mansion. "You are not dead. You are mine. That is better than what they had planned for you."
She didn't ask what he meant.She didn't want to know. Because she did not trust a word coming from his mouth.
The mansion doors opened, and cold air swept past her as she was pulled inside. The interior was sleek, filled with black marble, glass, and modern furniture. It looked more like humans.
She didn't resist anymore, her steps hollow. Whatever waited for her inside, it couldn't hurt more than what she'd already lost.
But even as her body numbed, her heart burned with one truth: She would never forgive him.
The heavy doors of the mansion slammed shut behind her with a finality that made Elara's breath hitch. The cold marble beneath her bare feet felt like ice, the silence in the hallway thick and pressing.
Luca let go of her wrist at last, but his presence still loomed at her side like a shadow that would never leave.
"I'll send someone to show you your room," he said, already turning away.
"I am not staying here," she whispered, though even she didn't believe her own voice.
"You are," he said without looking back.
Moments later, a girl in a deep green uniform appeared at the top of the staircase. She looked no older than Elara. She looked at Elara curiously.
"Take her upstairs, to the East wing," Luca ordered. "She would stay in the room across from mine."
Elara stiffened. The girl merely nodded, and without a word, turned on her heel. Elara followed. What else could she do?
The staircase curved up in a perfect sweep, too elegant for a wolf's den, too silent for a home. Paintings lined the walls—ancient warriors, wolves mid-shift, and a few that crackled faintly with enchantments.
At the top, they entered a long corridor. Doors lined either side, closed tight. But one opened as they passed.
A tall man with sharp green eyes leaned against the frame, arms crossed. His gaze dropped immediately to Elara, appraising her like she was some new pet brought in for inspection.
"So she's the reason Luca stormed in like a rabid beast," he drawled. "She looks too fragile for him. Is she a human? I could not smell her wolf."
The girl escorting Elara didn't pause. "Reign, not now."
He smirked and stepped aside, eyes still on Elara. "She doesn't smell like us."
"I'm not one of you," Elara said tightly.
That only seemed to amuse him more.
Two more figures passed them near the end of the hallway. one, a dark-skinned woman with cold eyes and a deep scar running down her cheek. The other, a blond youth who gave her a fleeting glance but said nothing. "The Curse is finally taking place."