Chapter 8 Nothing I Expected - Maya's POV

The room is unlike anything I expected.

Honestly, it is larger than I imagined and maybe even bigger than what I had back home. My room always felt closed off, in some ways.

The walls here are painted a soft rose color, but shadows seem to cling to the edges where the warm glow of the lights overhead can’t quite reach.

An enormous four-poster bed with a canopy is the center of the room, pushed against the left side wall. The dark cherry frame is polished and almost glistens in the light. The bedding is layered with thick, cream-colored blankets and pillows that are embroidered with intricate rose gold patterns. It seems more like something you’d see in a royal house than in a bedroom like this.

To the right, there is a small sitting area near the fireplace with two high-backed chairs. I look at the mantle, wondering if he carved the designs himself or if he had someone do it for him. It is almost too rough to be anything professional.

I sigh as I look forward and find a tall window that nearly stretches to the ceiling. It is framed with curtains that match the bedding, but they are so thick that I’m sure they’ll block any light from the window when pulled shut.

Beyond the window, I can see the tops of the forest trees, which seem dark and endless under the twilight sky.

I still can't get over the fact the room is mine.

When the older woman led me here, I braced myself for a prison cell. I figured it would be cold and dreary. But the space is warm and almost inviting.

Still, no amount of time will ever make me feel like this room is truly mine.

I had told her I was going to sleep, so she left me alone. But instead of tucking myself in, I stood in the middle of the room, evaluating everything.

A heavy silence fills the air, broken only by the faint creak of the floorboards. I can’t seem to make myself feel comfortable enough to lay on the bed and actually sleep.

This isn’t home.

It isn’t even close.

I look back at the door, remembering how the woman smiled at me kindly when she left. She had said her name was Evelyn, should I need anything, and then told me to take my time to settle in or go straight to sleep.

The only thing I didn’t expect was the last few words, which were that I would be fine here.

What does fine even mean?

How can I be fine when everything I have ever known has been taken from me? My father practically smiled as he told them I was theirs. I am nothing more than a piece of property he can do with as he pleases.

Now Damian controls my future, and he looks at me as if I am the solution to a problem. Or maybe that I am just another asset he can use.

With that last thought, I walk over to the bed and sink onto the edge. My hands tremble slightly as I grip the edge of the comforter. Even though it is soft and almost luxurious, it still feels foreign beneath my fingers.

My mind replays the events of the day repeatedly over each memory. Each one seems more surreal than the last.

The way Damian had stood in that office, he seemed as if he was calm and detached.

In a way, I hate him.

Don’t I?

I want to, regardless. I want to despise him and to curse his name for dragging me into his strange little world. But there is something else.

I feel somewhat pulled to him. It is in the way his eyes soften only for a fraction of a second when he sees me walk away, even though that has only happened once.

I shake my head as I try to banish the thought. Whatever Damian is, he isn’t my savior. He is just another person who is using me for their own agenda, just like my father.

After a few minutes, I make myself stand again and move toward the window. The view outside is beautiful, with a sprawling forest stretched out as far as I can see. The tree tops sway gently in the breeze.

But the beauty of the view doesn’t help me any. It doesn’t ease the knot blossoming in my chest at all.

Somewhere out there, danger lurks.

At least, I think so. Evelyn doesn’t realize I overheard people as we passed them on the way to the room. They spoke of territories and enemies. It is an odd language that I’m not used to.

We live in a state and I don’t know of any enemies.

The most curious part of it all was when someone called Damian their alpha.

Who calls their boss an alpha?

It makes me feel unsafe.

But I have nowhere else to go.

With a heavy sigh, I turn away from the window and look back at my bags in the middle of the floor. If this is to be my life, then I might as well make the best of it.

I head to the middle of the room and unzip the first bag. The rest of my things will probably come later. My father wouldn’t have any use for them and I’m sure he wouldn’t want any reminders of me in his house.

Tonight, this would do.

I start grabbing clothing and heading to the closet to hang it up. Once I had done that, I found my favorite book in my bag. My hands linger on the old worn cover. It is the one thing that makes me feel at home, even if it is just a small piece of my old life that I can cling to.

I place it on the nightstand next to the bed, hoping that it will help me adjust to this new life.

I sink back onto the bed, looking at the door as if someone will open it at any moment.

It feels like I’ll never be ready for whatever this is.

The sad part is I can’t fall apart. Not now or ever.

Deep down, I only have Damian and whoever else is here, even if they are unknown to me. That thought alone scares me to my very core.

I don’t know what to expect out of him or what he’ll want next. Though he hasn't made any demands, that doesn’t mean they won’t come. I am his to use and the time will come that he will use me forever he wants.