Chapter 2 The Fortress Of Chains

The fortress loomed ahead, dark and unyielding against the night sky. Its black stone walls jutted upward like jagged teeth, torches burning along the battlements, their flames bending under the weight of the wind. Ember’s breath caught as memories surged, she had walked these halls before, not as a prisoner, but as Damien’s mate. Once, this place had been her home. Now it felt like her tomb.

The crowd from the auction had long dispersed, though their cruel laughter still echoed in her mind. The chain linking her to Damien bit into her wrists with every step. The sound of their boots on the cobblestone was the only thing daring to fill the silence.

“You don’t have to drag me,” Ember snapped, jerking against his hold. “I can walk on my own.”

“Then do it,” Damien replied without looking back, his tone calm but laced with command. It was the same voice he had once used when leading her through this very gate as his equal. The memory stung more sharply than the iron.

Two guards straightened at the entrance, heads bowing as they recognized their Alpha. Their eyes flicked toward Ember, then quickly away, the recognition cutting through the air like a blade. Everyone knew the story. The runaway mate who had defied her Alpha and vanished. And now, she was back, bound in chains.

The gates groaned open, heavy and slow. A rush of cold air rolled out to meet them, carrying the scent of iron, ash, and old power. Ember’s stomach twisted. Every instinct screamed for her to run but there was nowhere left to go.

Inside, the fortress was deathly still. Firelight danced across the stone walls, stretching shadows into monstrous shapes. The scent of steel and smoke filled her lungs. It was a scent she had once loved, the smell of home, of safety. Now it only brought bitterness.

When they reached the main hall, Damien stopped. The great chamber stretched before them, empty except for long tables and the banners bearing his pack’s crest, a silver wolf howling at a crescent moon. He turned toward her, his gaze tracing the lines of her face.

“You’re thinner than I remember,” he said quietly. It wasn’t mockery. It was observation tinged with something unreadable.

Ember forced a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. “Hard to stay fed when you’re running from the people who want you dead.”

Something flickered across his expression, gone before she could name it. “Still sharp,” he murmured. “And still reckless.”

“And you’re still cold,” she shot back. “I see that hasn’t changed.”

He took a step closer, the air tightening between them. The mate bond hummed beneath her skin, alive, burning, and betraying the anger she clung to.

“Careful, Ember,” Damien said softly. “You’re walking a dangerous line.”

“Then maybe I’ll fall,” she replied. “Wouldn’t that make things easier for you?”

His eyes hardened. The silence between them thickened until even the torches seemed to burn quieter. Then, without warning, he reached for the manacle on her wrist. Ember flinched, expecting pain but instead, the lock clicked open. The chain dropped to the ground with a metallic clatter.

She stared at him. “What game are you playing now?”

“No game,” Damien said, voice low. “You’re mine, but I don’t need chains to prove it.”

Anger surged, but confusion tangled with it. “You think I’ll stay willingly?”

“You will,” he said. “Not because I force you, but because you’ll understand why you’re here.”

Her pulse quickened. “I already know why. You betrayed me once. This is just your way of finishing the job.”

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t look away. “You think I betrayed you because I left you that night. Because I chose my pack over you.”

Ember froze. The words hit like a physical blow. “Didn’t you?” she whispered. “When the rogues attacked, when I screamed for you, you didn’t come. You let them take me.”

“I didn’t let them,” Damien said, his voice rough. “You don’t know everything that happened.”

“Then tell me,” she demanded. “Tell me what could possibly make that right.”

He said nothing. The silence stretched until it became unbearable. His control was a mask carved from stone. Finally, he murmured, “Not yet.”

Rage flared hot behind her eyes. “You always do this,” she hissed. “Hide behind your secrets. You haven’t changed, Damien. You’re still the Alpha who lets everyone else bleed for his power.”

Before he could answer, the great doors at the far end of the hall swung open. A young guard rushed in, bowing low. “Alpha—rogues near the southern border. Too many to be a wandering pack.”

Damien’s expression shifted instantly, emotion replaced by command. “How many?”

“Thirty, maybe more. The patrols are holding the line.”

“Double the watch,” Damien ordered. “No one crosses that border.”

The guard nodded, saluted, and disappeared through the doors. The heavy wood slammed shut behind him, leaving the two of them in silence again.

Ember folded her arms. “So that’s it? You’ll run off to play hero while I sit here, waiting like a prisoner?”

His lips twitched, not quite a smile. “You’re safer here.”

“Safer?” she spat. “In your fortress? With the same man who broke me?”

His gaze darkened. “Safer than out there. You may not believe me, but something far worse than rogues is moving.”

Ember shook her head, stepping back. “You expect me to trust you now?”

“I expect you to stay alive,” he said quietly.

The words struck deep. For a fleeting second, his eyes softened, guilt, sorrow, something fragile but it vanished as quickly as it came. He turned away, his hand resting on the door.

“Wait,” Ember said. Her voice caught despite herself. “You said you didn’t buy me for revenge. Then why?”

He paused. The firelight caught his profile, sharp and beautiful and broken all at once.

“I told you,” he said, still facing the door. “You’ll understand soon enough.”

And then he was gone.

The hall felt colder without him. Ember stared at the fallen chains, the marks they’d left still red on her skin. Free, yet trapped. Safe, yet hunted. Nothing about this fortress or the man who ruled it felt simple anymore.

Whatever truth Damien was hiding, she would find it. And when she did, she’d decide for herself whether it was enough to forgive him… or a reason to burn his world to the ground.