CHAPTER 3: His Dominant desire

CHAPTER 3: A SEALED TRUCE

dimly lit room, Aria quiet sobs echoed as She hugged her legs tightly to her chest, tears streaming down her face.

She've been trapped here for two days, and it feels like her life has lost all hope. The memories of her father’s brutal death, the betrayal, and the rejection keep replaying in her mind, especially the moment she watched her mate suffocate him.

It feels like the Moon Goddess has cursed her with this fate.

Now, She nothing more than someone’s possession. Her life isn’t her's anymore—what a cruel twist of fate.

She've been crying since the moment she was brought here, but those tears haven’t changed anything; they can’t bring back what she've lost. The memories haunt her like a relentless trauma, messing with her mind.

“Take her to the Dungeon and hand her over to Oberon to burn her to ash. There shouldn’t be a trace of her left.” Those words echo in Aria's head, driving her to the brink of insanity. If she could, she would strangle him herself. He has to pay for the pain he’s caused her.

HE MUST!!

“Father…” She broke down, remembering how that poor man was strangled to death. her eyes feel heavy, and her heart races. she need help! she need to escape this hellish cage… why me!?

She Cried.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing a grumpy man who strode in without even glancing at Aria tear-streaked face.

“Stand,” he commanded with authority, but Aria wasn’t ready to look up or respond. She wasn’t going anywhere with him.

“Stand,” he repeated, his voice harsh, but she still didn’t lift her gaze.

She was too weak to stand, let alone walk. Frustrated, the grumpy man yanked her up, forcing Aria to her feet. She felt like she might collapse;  Aria couldn’t even muster the strength to stay upright.

“What do you want from me?” Aria managed to whisper, her voice barely audible but still clear enough to be heard.

He ignored her question and dragged her out. She had no energy left to resist; she just let him pull her along as if she's nothing.

The guards gripped her firmly, holding her before the heavy oak door. An aged lady stood before them, her face a mask of indifference.

"The bath awaits," she stated flatly.

Without warning, one of the guards spun Aria about, handling her like a rag doll.

Before she could fully comprehend the shift in her fate, rough hands shoved her forward into the chamber beyond.

The scent of lavender and warm oils hit her as she was ushered into the room. Steam rose from the bath, the water glimmering beneath the dim lantern light. Other slaves stood in silence, their eyes unreadable.

Without a word, they stripped Aria of her tattered clothes. The fabric tore as it fell, forgotten.

Hands shoved Aria into the water. Warmth enveloped her, washing away the blood, the sweat. Aria sucked in a breath as rough hands scrubbed her skin, each motion quick, efficient, deliberate.

Then, suddenly, one of the hands hesitated as it shifted Aria's hair.

Fingers brushed her neck, then stopped. They lingered, tracing a faint mark there.

A voice, young and uncertain, broke the stillness. "You are not... fully werewolf you have the blood of the Obororo linked in your lineage ...."

Aria turned her head slightly. Jer voice was quiet and flat. "I am as wolf as you."

"But... this mark...."

"Ilara," the elder snapped, her voice sharp with warning. "Hold your tongue. Speak no more."

The younger girl flinched and looked away. The room returned to silence.

Aria thoughts churned behind her eyes. 'Why did they speak of my birthright as though it made my kin to wolves? That mark, etched into my skin since my earliest days, had always been dismissed by my mother as nothing more than a birthmark. A harmless blemish, meaningless'. Aria thought.

Yet now, it stirred whispers and wary glances. It made them question what Aria was.

She did not question it. she had never needed to.

When Aria stepped from the bath, they dried her hair carefully, using linens softer than anything she had known in years. her wounds were tended with silent efficiency. Cool balm eased the sting of the new lashes.

Next came her face.

Fingers...cool, unhurried....glided along her jaw. A tincture of herbs and crushed pearl was smoothed into her skin. Her hair, once tangled and dull, was anointed with oil until it gleamed like burnished copper in the lantern light.

By the time they stepped back, Aria scarcely knew her own reflection.

She turned toward the silver mirror that had been set upon the wall, and stared.

She don’t know they are up to. with the treatment they are giving to her skin makes her wonder what is was next fate.

The face that met Aria's gaze was something other. Clean, composed, and unknowably distant.

They were not preparing her for death.

No, this was something else.

Something worse.

A wooden cup was shoved into her hands, sloshing dark liquid against the rim.

“Drink,” one of the guards ordered, voice gruff and impatient.

Aria glanced down. The smell was sharp—medicinal and wrong. Her stomach recoiled before her mind could form the question.

“No,” Aria said firmly, her fingers curling tighter around the cup but refusing to lift it. “I won’t.”

The guard’s brows rose. “It wasn’t a request.”

“I don’t care,” Aria snapped, lifting her chin. “I’m not swallowing anything you give me. Kill me if you want. Just be done with it.”

Another guard stepped forward with a sneer. “Stubborn little beast.”

Before Aria could move, they closed in. One seized her arms, pinning them behind her back, while the other grabbed her jaw, forcing it open.

She thrashed, twisting her body, but a third pair of hands clamped over her nose. Panic surged through her lungs as air fled.

“Swallow, or choke,” someone muttered.

The cup tilted. Liquid flooded Aria's mouth.

She sputtered, gagging, but the vile brew slipped down her throat. Bitter. Thick. Tasting of iron and rot.

When they released her, shr dropped to her knees, coughing, her chest heaving. The cup clattered beside her, empty.

“You bastards,” Aria rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

But they said nothing. One merely stepped forward and hauled her to her feet.

Aria head spun...not from the potion, but from the words that echoed in her mind.

A knot formed in her gut.

What were their plans for her now? Why had she been summoned ? Would they kill her ?

All of these were confusing to her.

The guards led her swiftly, their grips like iron. The path twisted through unfamiliar corridors, lined with ancient stonework and carvings she had never seen....wolves in battle, flames licking at the edges, a single moon looming overhead.

Ahead, a towering oak door stood closed, its iron hinges etched with runes too old for her to name.

Aria's heart pounded as one of the guards reached for the handle.

The door creaked open.

Upon entering, she felt it....the weight of power pressing upon her chest like an invisible hand.

Eyes turned, sharp and discerning.

The leaders of the Crimson Moon Pack. if she can remember .

Their gazes bore into her's, assessing with a predator’s patience.

She swallowed, her throat parched.

“She is keen,” one of the elders remarked coolly as he began to circle her, like a huntsman inspecting his catch. “She shall suffice.”

The Beta’s lips curled into a thin smile of triumph. “I told you as much.”

Alpha Ethan remained silent. His eyes, dark as a moonless sky, remained fixed upon Aria...his expression unreadable.

“And how can we be certain she will not speak?” he asked Though his tone was calm, but dangerous.

A chill ran the length of Aria spine. What dark schemes were they spinning?

The Beta....Lydia....stepped forth with a confidence that chilled the room. “I have seen to that,” she replied. “A witch has bound her tongue with spellcraft. She shall speak no truths, nor shall she flee. The matter is settled.”

A low murmur stirred among the gathered lords, but Alpha Ethan stood unmoved.

“And do you believe Alpha Demetrius shall remain blind to this deceit?” he asked, his voice growing darker still. “What if the truth comes to light?” His eyes turned once more to Aria, piercing and unrelenting. “This is not Aurora Fang.” His voice dropped, iron-hard. “I do not approve of this, Beta Lydia.”

A hush fell over the hall.

Her mind raced. Aurora Fang.

Now it became clear. she was never meant to stand in this place. Aurora was. she was merely a substitute.

But she wasn't getting one thing straight. are they about to give her out?. the question hit her hard.

Beta Lydia’s breath left her in a slow exhale. Her voice came sharp with quiet defiance. “I give you my word, Lords of the Pack....the witch shall manage all. Alpha Demetrius will ask no questions.”

Before another breath could be drawn, the doors burst open.

Two guards strode in, their steps hurried, their faces set with urgency. “Alpha Demetrius hath dispatched men from the Ravenwood Pack!” one declared.

No sooner had the warning fallen than two figures, tall and grim, entered the chamber. Their presence cast long shadows upon the floor.

Aria heart thundered within her breast.

Without hesitation, The Beta swept off her cloak and cast it over Aria's shoulders. The thick fabric fell heavily upon her, concealing her form, her face, her trembling eyes.

“Is she ready?” one of the Shadow Fang emissaries asked, his voice low.

“She is,” Lydia The Beta answered, her tone without falter.

“Then the truce is sealed.”

Strong hands took hold of Aria. she was pulled back, her path no longer her own.

Yet she did not struggle.

Aria's thoughts moved swiftly. The moment she reached the Ravenwood Pack, she would search for escape.

For freedom.

She must.