Aria's POV
The journey to the Nightshade Pack felt endless.
We left Silvercrest before dawn, and I didn't look back. The guards Kael assigned rode in silence, their armor glinting faintly under the pale light. The forest swallowed us whole — all towering pines and shifting mist, the air cold enough to sting my lungs.
For the first few hours, I tried to focus on the landscape — the silver rivers snaking through the valleys, the distant howl of wolves echoing through the fog — but my mind wouldn't stop replaying his voice.
I, Kael Draven, reject you, Aria Vale, as my mate.
It hadn't been a mistake. He'd meant every word.
The bond had snapped like a glass blade — sharp, clean, and merciless. I had felt it die inside me, felt my wolf cry out and then fall silent. She hadn't spoken since.
I'd always known my place — the servant, the orphan, the girl who didn't belong — but I had never known pain like that, And Kael… he hadn't even flinched.
Why hadn't it hurt him the same way? Why did he look so calm — so relieved — while I felt like my soul had been torn apart?
Maybe the Goddess had made a mistake.
When we crossed the border into Nightshade territory, the air changed. It was thicker and heavier, and the trees grew closer together. The mist seemed alive, curling around us like it was watching.
I'd heard rumors about this place — tales of the cursed Alpha whose lovers never lived to see the next moon.
And now I was being sent there. To him.
"This is where we leave you,"one of the guards muttered as we dismounted.
They didn't bother to escort me inside. An older quiet woman met me at the gates, her expression unreadable.
"Good day, my lady. My name is Cara, and I am the head housekeeper in this pack. Please, what may I call you?" She asked me.
"Aria," I replied.
"This way, Lady Aria," she said curtly, leading me through a corridor lined with silver sconces and faded banners.
Lady. The word sounded wrong in my ears.
I expected a cell. Or a servant's quarters. But when the door opened, I froze.
The room was… breathtaking.
A large canopy bed draped in dark velvet. A hearth crackling softly in the corner. A mirror framed in silver vines. Even the scent — lavender — was soothing.
I stood in the doorway, numb. "There must be a mistake," I whispered.
The woman only shrugged. "The Alpha's orders."
A bundle of clothes lay neatly folded on the bed — soft fabrics, nothing like the coarse servant's dresses I'd worn all my life. I was really suspicious. Why would he — a man rumored to be colder than the northern peaks — offer me comfort?
I changed anyway. The dress fit perfectly, as though someone had known my measurements. Then I noticed the tray of food — still warm, untouched. My body betrayed me before my pride could stop it, and I ate. Slowly. Hesitantly.
For the first time in days, the ache in my chest dulled just a little.
Until the door creaked open.
I turned — and there he was.
The Alpha of Nightshade.
Raine Blackthorn.
He filled the doorway like a storm in human form — tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black that matched the darkness of his eyes. There was a strange quiet around him, like even the air held its breath.
My instincts screamed to bow, but my pride held me upright.
"Alpha Raine," I said softly. "It's an honor to meet you."
He didn't respond.
His gaze swept over me once, sharp and unreadable, and in that single glance, I understood: this man was not like Kael. There was no arrogance here, no cruelty. Only distance.
He stared at me for what felt like a lifetime, then turned toward the fire, the shadows dancing across his face.
My greeting hung in the silence between us, unanswered.
Then he turned to face me at last.
For a heartbeat, the room itself seemed to still. The firelight caught in his silver eyes, turning them into molten light and shadow. He looked like a creature carved from the night itself.
"Sit," he said quietly, the word more command than request.
My knees almost gave way as I obeyed, lowering myself into the chair near the hearth.
Raine studied me for a long moment — the way one might study a puzzle they had no patience to solve.
"So," he said at last, his voice a low rumble. "You're the one Kael sent me."
I nodded, unsure if I should speak. "Yes, Alpha."
A faint flicker of something — amusement, maybe pity — crossed his face. "You look nothing like I expected."
I didn't know if that was good or bad. "I'll do whatever you require of me," I murmured. "I won't be a burden."
He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until I could feel the cold hum of his energy brushing against my skin. His scent filled my lungs, unsteadying my breath.
"You misunderstand," he said softly. "You are not here to serve me."
My heart stuttered. "Then… why am I here?"
His gaze didn't waver. "Because my elders insist I take a Luna. Because my bloodline demands an heir. And because the world would rather see me chained to tradition than left to rot in peace."
He paused, then continued, his tone growing sharper, colder. "You will be that Luna. You will bear my heir if the Goddess wills it. You will fulfill your duty to my pack. And then…"
He turned slightly, his eyes catching the light again. "You will stay out of my way."
The words struck like ice.
I swallowed, trying to steady my voice. "And if I don't?"
Raine's lips curved — not into a smile, but something else. "Then you will die."
The silence that followed was deafening. The fire cracked softly, and I realized I was holding my breath.
"I don't say this to frighten you," he went on, though his tone was anything but gentle. "The curse that runs through my blood does not forgive affection. It feeds on it. Anyone I love — anyone foolish enough to love me in return — dies."
His words hung heavy between us.
"So you will not love me," he said finally. "You will not seek it from me. Not in word, not in touch, not even in thought. You will do your duty, and you will keep your heart locked away. That is the only way you live."
I stared into the fire, my throat burning. I'd been cast out, humiliated, rejected by the man who should've cherished me — and now I was to be bound to one who feared the very thing I still foolishly longed for.
"I understand," I whispered.
Raine studied me for another long moment. Then he nodded once — curt, final — and turned toward the door.
"Good," he said quietly. "Then we will have no problems."
He left without another glance, and the moment the door closed behind him, I finally exhaled.
The flames danced before me, casting long shadows on the stone walls. I wrapped my arms around myself, the weight of his warning pressing down like a brand.
No love. No heart. No hope.
And yet, as the night deepened, I couldn't help but wonder — if he was so determined to silence his heart, why had his eyes looked so haunted when he told me to stay away?