The carriage jolted, throwing me against the leather seat, chains rattling. I caught my balance, ignoring the sting in my wrists, and focused on him. He sat opposite me, posture rigid, eyes fixed like a predator studying prey.
"You should know," he said, voice low, dangerous, "I do not tolerate defiance.
I met his gaze, unflinching. "I don't intend to be tolerated."
The corner of his mouth twitched,not quite a smirk, but something that promised chaos. He leaned forward slightly, scent of wolf and authority washing over me, making my chest tighten involuntarily. Control. He craves control. That's his weakness.
The carriage stopped. Guards opened the doors, chains clinking in warning. Outside, the Lunaris pack territory stretched before me: towering stone walls, patrolling sentries, and wolves,some loyal, some curious, all dangerous. I was being led into the lion's den.
The first room I was brought to was stark—stone floors, cold metal chains on the walls. This was not a room of comfort; this was a room of compliance. The Alpha stepped closer, hand brushing the chain restraining my wrist. "You'll sleep here tonight," he said. "Tomorrow, we begin.
"Begin what?" I asked, voice steady, though my pulse screamed.
"Survival," he said. "Training. Obedience. Discipline.
The first test came immediately. A pack member entered, rolling a heavy barrel toward me. "Move it to the other end," the man barked. Chains rattled as I bent to lift. Sweat stung my eyes, muscles ached, but I refused to stumble. Each movement was watched. Every misstep recorded in silent judgment.
He circled me like a hawk. "Faster," he commanded, voice tight. "I will not repeat myself.
I worked harder, ignoring the pain, the exhaustion, and the burning humiliation. My mind raced,every pack member's glance, every twitch, every hesitation noted. This is a chessboard. Every weakness can be exploited. Every loyalty can be turned.
By the time the barrel was in place, my wrists burned and my back ached. He leaned close, scent overwhelming. "Not bad," he murmured. "For now."
The words weren't praise. They were a warning. I am testing you. I am learning your limits. I am seeing if you break.
After the labor, he forced me to the training yard. Metal claws and weights. Combat stances. Precision exercises. Every strike, every dodge, every misstep was critiqued, corrected, punished. I stumbled once, and his hand shot out,not touching me, just hovering. Intimidation.
"You will not falter again," he said. The air between us crackled. My wolf throbbed beneath my skin. His scent flooded me, unrelenting. He is my mate. And yet, he hates me.
By midday, I was sweating, trembling, exhausted,but still alive. The Alpha's test wasn't physical alone. It was psychological. He wanted fear. Submission. Broken will. I offered neither.
When the pack began their afternoon rituals, I was forced to watch. Wolves bending to their Alpha, howls echoing, obedience absolute. He observed me, too, and I could see it: irritation at my composure, fascination at my resilience.
A small, quiet alliance began forming, almost imperceptible. A young pack member, eyes cautious, whispered, "She's not just wolfless. She's dangerous."
I gave nothing away. A tilt of the head, a careful glance,subtle signals. Allies, information, opportunities. Every observation was a weapon. Every whisper a hint of leverage.
By evening, the chains were loosened slightly,enough to sleep, not enough to forget. He stood by my bed, silhouette sharp in the moonlight streaming through the barred window. "Do not think for a second you can play games," he said. "I will see them. I will punish them. And I will see you bend."
I swallowed, keeping my defiance in check. "You'll see nothing," I whispered, almost to myself. "Not until I choose to show you."
The chains clinked as I curled on the cold floor. Outside, wolves howled in the night. My wolf stirred inside me, dormant yet restless. Tomorrow begins the real test.
And I was ready.
Chains bind the body. They do not bind the mind.