My Alpha Claimed Me, Then Sent Me to Die

POV: Wren

The lock opened at dawn.

I had counted the hours by the strip of gray light crawling across the medical bay floor. Alaric had not returned. No healer came. No servant brought food. Only two guards escorted me back to my tower before sunrise, their eyes fixed anywhere but on the brand beneath my torn sleeve.

Someone had already laid out fresh clothes.

I ignored the dress and pulled on a red silk shirt. The fabric was soft against my skin, but the burn beneath it still throbbed. So did the memory of Alaric’s mouth almost touching mine.

A carriage rolled into the courtyard below.

Black lacquer. Silver crest. Northern bloodline.

A young woman stepped down in white silk and winter pearls. Her blond hair gleamed beneath the morning sun. She looked up at the castle with the calm confidence of someone arriving at a home she expected to own.

Voices rose in the corridor.

“The Luna candidate arrived early.”

“Lady Sarah’s family agreed to the alliance.”

“The High Alpha will announce the courtship before the next moon.”

The last sentence struck like a blade.

Alaric had left me locked away while the Council delivered him a wife.

I crossed to the door. A silver ward covered the handle in a web of light. The seal should have rejected anyone below High Alpha rank. When I had touched it during the night, it had burned my fingers.

This time, I let the cold thing beneath my ribs wake.

Darkness slid down my arm.

The ward did not break. It dissolved. Silver threads turned gray, curled inward, and vanished with a whisper.

The lock clicked.

I stepped into the corridor barefoot.

Servants flattened themselves against the walls as I passed. One maid dropped a stack of linens. A sentry near the stairwell reached for his weapon, then stopped when my eyes met his.

For an instant, his face went slack.

The Devourer noticed.

I forced it down and kept walking.

The rose garden doors stood open. Beyond them, Alaric sat at a wrought-iron table in full military dress. His pale hair had been tied back. The poison-black exhaustion beneath his eyes told me the Council had kept him awake all night.

Sarah leaned toward him across the tea service. Her posture was perfect. Her smile was practiced. One hand rested near his cup as if she already had the right to tend him.

The gravel snapped beneath my feet.

Alaric looked up.

His gaze found the open collar of my shirt, the edge of the brand, and my bare legs below the hem. His fingers tightened around the chair arm.

Sarah followed his stare.

“So this is the ward,” she said. “The Council mentioned her.”

“Did they?” I walked closer.

“They said you lacked proper blood and proper discipline.” Her smile sharpened. “I assumed they were exaggerating.”

I stopped beside Alaric. Snow and pine rolled from him, edged with anger.

“Guardian,” I said sweetly. “You have a guest. Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Who released you?”

“The door opened.”

“The door was warded.”

“Then perhaps your wards are weaker than you think.”

His eyes flashed gold.

He caught my wrist, careful to avoid the worst of the burn. Even that restrained contact sent pain and heat together through my body.

“Return to your room.”

Sarah lifted her cup. “My father would never tolerate this kind of insolence from a dependent.”

Dependent.

Not family. Not pack. Not even a person with a name.

I pulled free of Alaric and turned toward the garden gate. A young patrol guard stood there in formal uniform. Jacob had watched me dance the night before. He had also looked away when Alaric followed me onto the terrace.

“Jacob,” I said.

His face flushed. “Lady Wren.”

“I seem to be lost.” I placed my fingers on his forearm. His muscles tightened beneath the fabric. “Would you walk me back?”

His gaze jumped over my shoulder. Terror replaced every other expression.

Behind me, porcelain exploded.

Sarah cried out as tea and white shards scattered across her dress.

Alaric’s scent struck like a storm.

One moment I touched Jacob. The next, an arm locked around my waist and dragged me against a hard chest. Alaric’s hand caught my hair and tipped my head back, exposing my throat.

Jacob retreated without being told.

“You want to test me?” Alaric spoke against my ear. “You want to stand in front of every unmated Alpha in my territory and invite them to touch you?”

“You told me I was nothing.”

“I told you to stay alive.”

His body pressed against mine. The proof of his jealousy burned through both layers of clothing. My breath broke, and his grip tightened.

Sarah rose from the table. “Alaric, release her. The Council will hear of this.”

“Then give them an accurate report,” I said. “Tell them their chosen Luna could not hold his attention for the length of one cup of tea.”

Sarah went pale.

Alaric turned me to face him. Fury sharpened every line of his face, but fear lived beneath it.

“You broke a High Alpha ward,” he said.

“I dissolved it.”

His anger vanished for half a second.

That frightened him more than Jacob’s hand on my skin.

I touched the front of his coat. “Stop hiding behind the Council. Stop parading candidates in front of me. Claim what you keep trying to protect.”

A growl rolled through his chest.

He lifted me without warning and carried me across the garden. I caught his shoulders as he strode through the doors. Servants scattered. Guards stared at the floor.

“Put me down.”

“You spent the morning making certain I would not.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“My chambers.”

The words sent a dangerous thrill through me.

He climbed the private stair with me in his arms. At the landing, he stopped before a set of black iron doors.

For six years, I had never been allowed beyond them.

He looked down at me. Gold had swallowed his eyes.

“You wanted my full attention,” he said. “Now you have it.”

The doors slammed behind us.