Chapter 4: The Alpha’s Terms
Louve’s wrists ached from the heavy iron cuffs that bit into her skin with every movement. Her wolf snarled inside her, furious at the restraint, but there was nothing she could do. They had bound her with wolfsbane-laced shackles, dampening her strength and leaving her weak, her limbs trembling from exhaustion and hunger. She had lost track of how long she’d been locked in this dim, stone chamber—a day, maybe two?
The Bloodmoon Pack’s dungeons were nothing like the crude cages rogues used. These were carved deep into the heart of the Alpha’s stronghold, walls reinforced with steel and runes that shimmered faintly in the dark. The air smelled of damp earth and fear, and distant echoes of snarls and growls reminded her that she wasn’t alone down here. Other prisoners lingered in the shadows, but no one dared speak.
Louve’s head drooped forward, strands of tangled hair falling into her eyes. Every muscle ached, but she refused to let despair crush her. She’d survived this long on her own. She’d survive this too.
The iron door creaked open. Heavy boots thudded against stone, each step deliberate, dominant—a predator entering its den. Louve tensed instinctively. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The air shifted, thick with the weight of his power, the scent of pine and steel cutting through the dungeon’s stench.
Alpha Dolph.
The mate bond flared like a raw nerve the moment he entered. Louve’s heart lurched painfully, betraying her. She hated it—hated how her body responded, hated the warmth that tried to seep into her soul at the sight of him. She wanted to spit in his face, to curse the Moon for this cruel joke. But when her eyes met his, her breath caught.
He was a storm given flesh—broad shoulders, a frame carved from strength, his black hair falling in messy strands around a face that could have been sculpted from stone. His jaw was set hard, his piercing gray eyes glinting like shards of ice. There was no kindness there, no softness. Only calculation. And something darker, buried so deep she almost missed it—a flicker of conflict.
Two guards flanked him, but they kept their heads bowed, as if his presence alone demanded submission. He didn’t even glance at them. His gaze was all for her.
“Leave us,” he said, his voice smooth yet edged like a blade. The guards obeyed instantly, closing the door behind them with a heavy thud.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Louve straightened slowly, refusing to cower even as her legs trembled.
“So,” Dolph said finally, his eyes raking over her in a way that made her wolf bristle. “The little rogue who dared trespass into my land.” His lips curved, not in amusement, but in something colder. “Tell me, Louve Ralph—did you think you’d walk out alive?”
She lifted her chin, ignoring the tremor in her chest. “I didn’t plan on being dragged in like prey.”
One dark brow arched. “Prey,” he repeated softly, stepping closer. The chains clinked as she instinctively shrank back, hating herself for it. He noticed. Of course he noticed. His smirk widened slightly, cruel and knowing.
“You crossed into Bloodmoon territory,” he said, his tone like iron. “That alone is reason enough for me to tear out your throat. But then—” He stopped, his eyes locking onto hers, and something primal passed between them. The bond pulsed again, hot and undeniable. He felt it. She knew he did.
“But then,” he continued, voice dropping lower, “the Moon decided to curse me with a mate.”
The word dripped with disdain. Louve’s stomach twisted, anger and pain warring inside her.
“I didn’t ask for this,” she snapped before she could stop herself. “I don’t want you as my mate any more than you want me.”
For a moment, his expression froze. Then, slowly, dangerously, he smiled. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t human. It was the smile of a wolf baring its teeth.
“Good,” he said softly, circling her like a predator. “Because you are weak. A rogue. Pathetic.” He stopped behind her, so close she could feel the heat of him, his breath ghosting against her ear. “And I don’t mate with weakness.”
The words cut deep, sharper than any blade. Louve clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms. She wanted to scream, to shift and rip him apart. But the wolfsbane sapped her strength, leaving her chained and helpless.
“So what now?” she forced out, her voice low but steady. “Kill me and be done with it?”
For a long moment, silence. Then, he moved to stand before her again, his gaze unreadable.
“No,” he said finally. “Not yet.”
Her heart thudded painfully. “What do you mean?”
His eyes darkened, like storm clouds gathering. “Lucien.”
The name struck a chord. Even rogues whispered it—a shadow in the dark, a threat that loomed over every pack.
“What about him?” she asked warily.
Dolph’s jaw tightened. “He’s been crossing borders. Testing my land. He wants something—and now I think I know what.” His eyes dropped briefly to her shoulder, where the mark burned beneath her skin like a secret.
Louve stiffened. “You don’t know anything,” she said quickly, but her pulse betrayed her.
“Oh, I know enough,” he murmured, stepping closer until their faces were inches apart. “You’re not just a rogue, Louve. You’re the key to something bigger. And I’m not about to let my rival sink his claws into you.”
Her breath hitched. “So what? You’re keeping me as bait?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze swept over her again, slow and deliberate, as if weighing something far heavier than her life.
“You’ll work for me,” he said at last.
She blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You want to live?” His voice was silk wrapped around steel. “Then you’ll track Lucien for me. Help me stop whatever he’s planning.”
“And if I refuse?”
He smiled that cold, cruel smile again. “Then I kill you.”
The words hung in the air like smoke. Louve’s heart pounded. Rage boiled in her veins, but fear—real, raw fear—twisted inside her too.
“You can’t force me,” she hissed.
“Oh, I can.” His fingers brushed her jaw lightly, almost tenderly, but his touch burned like fire. “And I will.” His eyes locked on hers, the mate bond thrumming between them like a drumbeat. “Because whether you like it or not, Louve—you’re mine.”
The words sent a shiver down her spine. Not because she wanted them to. But because part of her—the part that belonged to the wolf inside—howled in answer.
Dolph turned away, his cloak sweeping behind him. “You start tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder, his tone final, brooking no argument. “Prove useful, and you live. Fail me…” His gray eyes flicked back to hers, cold and merciless. “And I’ll make sure death feels like mercy.”
The door slammed shut, leaving Louve in the dark, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.
For the first time since she was cast out, she felt truly trapped—not just by chains or wolfsbane, but by something far more dangerous.
The bond.
And the man who wielded it like a weapon.