Chapter 9

I tugged at the collar. It fit too tightly and the leather was rough against my skin.

Kieran swatted my hand away.

“That collar belonged to my dog,” Kieran said, stroking the small metal tag that hung from the black leather strap around my neck. His voice was soft, almost fond, as if he were reminiscing. “He was a good pup. His collar will remind you that you need to be a good pup.”

A good pup? I was a werewolf! An Alpha’s daughter. I was no one’s pet.

Kieran’s words were meant to humiliate, to put me in my place. He wanted me to argue, to talk back and give him an excuse to punish me.

I swallowed the bitter taste rising in my throat, forcing myself to meet his eyes. My lip curled, but I didn’t move or speak. I had learned my lesson the hard way.

For now, playing docile was safer. Kieran didn’t know what to do with cooperation. He knew how to put down a struggle.

Kieran told me I could only take the collar off when he allowed it. As if my body was his territory now. As if all it took to make me his property was a strip of cheap leather and a little metal tag. I almost laughed. If he thought owning me was that easy, he hadn't been paying enough attention.

“You know,” I said sweetly, “this means your poor dog doesn’t have a collar anymore.”

Kieran’s expression froze. A pause. Just long enough to be noticeable. His hand stilled on the tag, and then, without warning, he stepped back.

“The dog is dead,” he said, his tone flat.

I blinked, but didn’t reply. For once, I didn’t have a clever comeback. I didn’t know whether the cold look on his face was grief or something else, something deeper and darker. His smile was gone, erased like chalk on wet stone.

He turned and walked away before I could decide on a response. That was probably for the best. I despised him, but mocking someone's grief over their pet was too petty.

After that moment, something shifted. Kieran stopped trying to bed me. Instead, he kept me close like a pet. When he went about his business as alpha, I followed a pace behind him, silent, collared, and humiliated.

If I tried to take the collar off, he swatted my hand. I figured I would just take it off to hide it when I went to sleep, but Kieran anticipated that. He took the collar off after I helped him into his robe after his bath that night. He bid me a surprisingly gentle good night, and put the collar back on the next morning. He never left me alone long enough to get the thing off. I finally gave up on “losing” the thing. If I did get it off, he'd just find something worse.

Whenever pack members came to the estate, they saw me—Zara Sawyer, daughter of the former alpha—fetching water or tea while wearing a literal dog collar. And no one said a word. They didn’t protest. They didn’t even try to ask me if I was okay.

I wasn’t sure what was worse: the collar or the silence.

Kieran liked the show. His smug satisfaction oozed from every movement. And me? I played along. Because the truth was, I wasn’t going to win this by brute force. I could not overpower the twin alphas, even when they were separate.

Lucian had left days ago, heading to the southern border to “clean out the rogues.” I imagined it was a bloody, efficient purge. Lucian struck me as the more ruthless one.

While Lucian ruled with a quiet menace, Kieran was a performer. A firecracker. Flashy, explosive, unpredictable. So just my luck, it was him who stayed behind to play house with his new pet.

The part of me that had been raised as an Alpha's daughter could admire the efficiency. With twin Alphas, they could divide and conquer the challenges of ruling so many packs. One stayed behind to manage domestic issues, while the other went out to maintain their borders.

At least Lucian’s absence gave me room to observe Kieran without his brother's influence. Kieran was powerful, sure, but he wasn’t patient or subtle. He wanted instant gratification, whether that was submission, fear, or sex. And he wanted a fight. He liked it when I struggled, so I stopped. I obeyed, and I kept my mouth shut. I refused to rise to his bait.

The moment I stopped reacting, stopped fighting him and trying to remove the collar, his interest cooled. My silent obedience made me invisible again. And I used that to gather intel.

The pack members feared Lucian. They watched Kieran. They couldn't predict him, and that scared them. They lived with two very different flavors of terror. I might have pitied them, if they hadn't been so quick to leave me to the Alphas' mercies.

Kieran handled the pack with a steady hand. I’d thought he might be at loose ends without his brother, assuming Lucian was the more dominant Alpha. But he was clearly used to dealing with things on his own. That wasn’t a weakness I could exploit, damn it all. I’d just have to keep watching for something else.

One afternoon, Kieran seemed to be in a mood, impossible to please. Every time I brought the tea, it was too hot. The water, too cold. I was too slow, too fast, too quiet, too insolent. It was all nonsense, of course, but I bit my tongue which only seemed to enrage him more.

In response, he knocked over a cup of tea. It splashed across the stone floor, steaming against the cool air. I didn’t react. If he wanted to throw a tantrum, that was fine with me. It was almost funny.

When he demanded I clean the spilled tea, I simply said with syrupy sweetness, “Yes Alpha Kieran.”

I knelt and mopped up the tea. I kept my eyes on my task. I could feel Kieran’s stare boring into my spine. He was beginning to notice something was off about my behavior.

His eyes narrowed. The moment I stood, he grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to meet his.

“You’ve been making me uncomfortable lately,” he said, voice low.

“Uncomfortable?” I asked, blinking my eyes as wide as they would go. “But I’m being such a good pup.”

His jaw twitched. He wanted me angry. He wanted me to lash out. He wanted something real to chew on, something messy and defiant. And instead, I gave him sugar.

“You’re acting,” he said after a long moment. “I know it. You’re just pretending. You didn't break this quickly.”

“Of course I’m pretending,” I said, yanking my chin free. “But so what? You expect me to actually feel grateful for this?” I gestured at the collar. “For the starvation, the imprisonment, the collar? You think that’s how loyalty is earned?”

“I don’t care about earning anything from a half-breed,” he sneered. “I am the strongest werewolf here. I don’t need anyone’s permission or approval. No one can refuse to swear loyalty to me.”

“Then why do you need me to play at being your pet?” I snapped. “Go ahead, put collars on everyone else. Make your pack kneel for your approval the same way. Maybe then you’ll feel powerful enough.”

Kieran snarled and turned away from me. “You’ll learn to respect me,” he growled.

“That will never happen,” I swore.