Chapter 8 The Morning Of Defiance

The first thing I noticed when I woke was the silence.

No footsteps. No heavy breathing outside the door. No distant echoes of guards shifting their weight. Only the faint hum of wind brushing against the glass balcony doors and the slow, steady rhythm of my own heartbeat.

My body was sore from sleeping curled up on the couch, one arm wrapped around the pillow I had used as a weapon. My eyes stung from the faint light breaking through the velvet curtains. Dawn. Pale and cold. It painted the golden fixtures of the room in muted silver, and for a fleeting second, I wondered if I had only dreamt the night before—Darius’s voice, his eyes, the weight of his words pressing against my chest like a curse.

But then my gaze fell to the massive bed across the room—the one that still smelled like him.

No, it hadn’t been a dream.

I rose slowly, my muscles tense. The door was still where it had been, the handle polished, glinting faintly in the light. I half expected it to resist when I reached for it, but when my fingers wrapped around the cold metal and twisted, the latch gave way with a soft click.

Unlocked.

I froze.

My first instinct was that it had to be a trap. He wouldn’t just let me go. Not after dragging me here, not after claiming me in that low, maddening voice as his mate. The word alone still made my chest tighten with fury. No, there had to be someone waiting, guards, servants, maybe even Darius himself watching from the shadows.

Still, I pushed the door open.

The hallway beyond was quiet, lined with portraits of ancient Alphas whose eyes seemed to follow my every move. Gold sconces glowed dimly on the walls, and a faint scent of pine and smoke hung in the air, his scent, lingering even here. My stomach turned.

A figure appeared suddenly from the corner, and I tensed, ready to fight.

But it wasn’t Darius.

It was a young she-wolf, she looked like she was still in her twenties with chestnut hair braided neatly down her back. She wore a simple black dress and an apron, her posture perfectly straight despite the tremor in her hands. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and she bowed immediately, head lowered.

“Good morning, Luna. My name is Tessa”

The word hit me like a slap.

My body went rigid, my pulse spiking. “What did you just call me?”

The young woman blinked, startled by the sharpness of my tone. “L-Luna, ma’am. Alpha Darius said—”

“Don’t,” I snapped, stepping closer. “Don’t call me that.”

The air between us grew heavy, and the young woman’s throat bobbed as she swallowed hard.

“I’m no one’s Luna,” I hissed. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young woman whispered quickly, eyes dropping to the floor.

I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the rage building inside me. I didn’t want to scare the girl—Tessa, I remembered, but the title burned in my ears like poison. Luna. The mate of an Alpha. His equal. His other half. The word might have sounded soft and sacred to others, but to me, it was a chain. Tying me to the man I hated the most.

I folded my arms tightly across my chest. “Where is he?”

Tessa hesitated. “Alpha Darius is… occupied, my lady. He asked that I guide you to breakfast.”

My brows drew together. “Occupied doing what?”

“I—I-I’m not permitted to say.”

Of course, she wasn’t.

“I don’t want breakfast,” I said coldly. “I want my freedom. Tell your Alpha that I demand to be let go.”

The young woman looked up, panic flickering behind her eyes. “I… I’ll relay the message, Luna—I mean, miss—but…” She trailed off, her lips trembling.

“I don’t care what he ordered,” I interrupted her my voice low but trembling with resolve. “I didn’t ask to be brought here. I didn’t ask for this bond. Tell him I want to go, and if he refuses, he’ll regret it.”

Tessa hesitated, clearly torn. “I’ll tell him, miss. I promise. But…” Her gaze darted toward the hall, she then bowed again, murmured something about preparing food, and quietly turned on her heel.

I walked back to the room, walking toward the window. The balcony doors were locked, just as before. Through the glass, I could see mist curling through the pine trees, the faint silhouettes of wolves pacing near the perimeter. Patrols. He really was keeping me caged with no way to escape.

My reflection glared back at me in the glass, pale green eyes, a mess of dark curly hair, fury simmering under my skin. I looked like a ghost haunting someone else’s life.

For a long moment, I stood there, the morning light spilling across my face, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady myself. The scent of pine and smoke still clung to the air. Every breath I took carried a trace of him, wild and dark and intoxicating. It made me want to scream.

I stalked to the couch, where the watch I’d stolen last night still rested in my palm. I turned it over, studying the fine engravings on the back. D.R.

Even his initials irritated me. Probably everything he owned bore his mark. His house. His people. His territory. And now me.

Not a chance.

I pocketed the watch and began pacing. The room was beautiful, yes, but it was still a prison. I could taste it in the air, feel it in the walls. Darius might have said I wasn’t his prisoner, but he didn’t need bars or chains. His power was enough. His word was law here.

And yet… There had been something in his eyes last night when he said, You’re my mate, Lyra, You have nothing to fear here.

I hated that part of my brain replayed it, over and over. The way his voice had softened at my name, the heat in his stare, the promise in his tone.

I didn’t want it. I didn’t want him.

He was my father’s killer.

And now he claimed to be my mate.

My heart twisted painfully in my chest.

I needed to think. Needed to plan.

If I could get outside, maybe I could steal a car or find another way past the gates. But first, I needed to learn the layout. How many guards? Where they changed shifts. How to slip past without drawing attention.

My thoughts were interrupted by a faint knock at the door.

I turned sharply.

It opened slowly, revealing Tessa again.