Ariella stood motionless before the floor-to-ceiling window, her fingertips resting against the cool glass as she watched the extensive Hayes estate disappear beneath a blanket of gray skies.
The grounds she had once wandered freely as a child had become a prison overnight.
Enforcers stood at every entrance, their black uniforms blending into the stone walls as radios crackled softly with status updates.
Two more guarded the garden below her bedroom window, their expressions carved from stone.
There would be no escape, not this time.
The expensive makeup her mother had insisted on painting across her face had begun to tighten against her skin, making her feel as though she were wearing someone else’s face.
A perfect daughter.
A beautiful sacrifice.
A polished commodity prepared for delivery.
She hated it.
She hated the dress clinging to her body.
Most of all…
She hated the fact that she had finally stopped fighting.
Not because she’d accepted her fate.
But because she’d realized no one intended to give her a choice.
Atlas had turned the entire pack house into a military compound.
His voice echoed through the radios every few minutes, calm and efficient as he barked out orders.
“No one enters without clearance.”
“Maintain your positions.”
“Report any movement.”
As if she were some dangerous criminal instead of the daughter they’d raised beneath this very roof.
A bitter laugh threatened to escape her throat.
How ironic.
The same family who had ignored her existence for years suddenly feared she might run.
They weren’t protecting her.
They were protecting the Hayes reputation.
Their precious diluted bloodline.
Everything…except their daughter.
Her reflection stared back at her through the window.
Golden eyes, dark curls pinned into elegant waves.
Diamond earrings that had belonged to her grandmother.
She barely recognized the woman staring back.
“They’re dressing me up like a gift,” she whispered to herself, her voice so quiet it was swallowed by the room.
“A very expensive gift.”
Silence answered.
Slowly, the trembling in her hands disappeared.
If this was what they wanted…
Fine.
She would walk downstairs.
She would stand beside Grimshaw Blackridge.
She would sign whatever damned contract they shoved beneath her hand.
But acceptance?
Never.
A cold smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
If Grimshaw believed he’d purchased an obedient little mate to strengthen his bloodline, then he was about to discover the most expensive mistake of his life.
She would challenge everything.
Ignore every command.
Every conversation would become an argument.
Every attempt at affection would be met with ice.
She would become the splinter underneath his skin that refused to come out.
Let her family celebrate today.
Let them toast to their successful transaction.
She would make sure their investment became his greatest regret.
The thought settled something restless inside her.
The metallic click of the bedroom lock broke the silence.
Ariella didn’t turn immediately, she already knew who it was.
Only one person entered her room without knocking.
The scent of expensive perfume drifted through the air moments before Cassandra Hayes stepped inside.
Elegant as always, immaculately fressed.
Perfectly composed.
She carried a folded white veil embroidered with delicate silver vines, the fabric so sheer it shimmered beneath the afternoon light.
In her other hand rested a neatly wrapped bundle tied with crimson string, its earthy scent unmistakable.
Incense.
Ariella’s jaw tightened.
Of course, every detail had been prepared.
Every humiliation was carefully planned.
The bedroom door clicked shut behind her mother.
“You’ve certainly chosen a dramatic place to wait,” Cassandra said coolly.
“Anyone would think you were mourning.”
Ariella kept staring out the window.
“I am.”
Her mother’s heels clicked sharply across the wooden floor.
“You are mourning nothing.”
“No?”
A firm hand caught Ariella’s shoulder, forcing her to turn.
“The guests have arrived.
Grimshaw Blackridge is waiting.
And the contracts have already been prepared.”
“Contracts?” She asked, not really surprised.
“So it’s not just one?
Typical.”
Cassandra’s eyes narrowed.
“For once in your life, stop acting like an insolent child.”
Ariella finally looked directly at her.
“I stopped being your child the moment you decided to sell me.”
The words landed between them like broken glass.For the briefest moment…something flickered in Cassandra’s eyes.
Not guilt, only annoyance.
“You always did have a talent for melodrama.”
“No,” Ariella replied quietly.
“I learned it from watching this very family.”
A tense silence stretched between them.
Then Cassandra exhaled impatiently.
“This marriage saves us all.”
“It saves you.”
“It saves this family.
And it gives you purpose, Ariella.”
“It your ticket to a fatter purse.”
The slap came so quickly Ariella barely saw it.
Her head snapped sideways.
Heat exploded across her cheek.
Neither woman spoke.
Slowly…very slowly…Ariella turned her face back.
Her golden eyes were dry.
She refused to cry, not for this woman.
Not anymore.
“If that made you feel better,” she said softly, “you should do it again.”
Something almost unsettled Cassandra.
Instead, she unfolded the veil with brisk, practiced movements.
“Enough.”
The delicate fabric floated over Ariella’s head before settling around her face, turning her vision into soft shades of white.
The edges of the room blurred until everything looked distant, dreamlike.
It felt suffocating.
Another layer hiding who she really was.
Another reminder that appearances mattered more than truth.
Cassandra adjusted the veil with meticulous precision, fastening silver pins into Ariella’s carefully styled hair.
Her fingers lingered only long enough to ensure everything was perfect.
She stepped back, studying her daughter as though inspecting merchandise.
“You almost look worthy of the Blackridge name.”
Almost.
The single word hurt more than Ariella cared to admit.
Without another glance, Cassandra pressed the wrapped bundle into her hands.
The incense was warm from her mother’s grip.
“You’ll burn this tonight.”
Ariella looked down at it.
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.”
“I asked a question.”
Her mother’s smile was cold.
“It promotes fertility.”
Ariella’s stomach twisted.
“You will burn it in Grimshaw’s chambers before he claims you.”
Silence.
“You will give him heirs.”
More silence.
“You will not resist him.”
Ariella slowly lifted her gaze.
“And if I do?”
Cassandra met her eyes without hesitation.
“Then he’ll break your resistance himself.”
The words hit like ice water.
Was she saying she would give him a go ahead to force her?
She thought.
“You should consider yourself fortunate,” Cassandra continued, her voice devoid of even the smallest trace of maternal warmth.
“A man like Grimshaw could have demanded anyone.
Instead, he accepted you.”
Accepted.
As though Ariella should feel grateful.
“You’ll spread your legs, give him strong pups, and perhaps he’ll overlook what a disappointment you’ve always been.”
Every word struck harder than the last.
“Maybe then,” Cassandra added, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from Ariella’s sleeve, “I can pretend my sixth child wasn’t the mistake that nearly destroyed this family.”
The room became impossibly quiet.
Ariella could hear her own heartbeat.
Slow, heavy and painfully steady.
For years she had wondered why love came so easily to her brothers and never to her.
Today…she finally stopped wondering even when she knew why.
The realization hurt less than the truth itself.
Without a word, she tightened her fingers around the incense until the paper crinkled beneath the pressure.
Poison.
That’s what it felt like.
Poison wrapped in ceremonial ribbon.
She imagined throwing it into the fireplace, imagining watching it burn.
Imagined telling every guest downstairs exactly what her mother had instructed her to do tonight.
Instead…she simply smiled.
It wasn’t a pleasant smile.
It was small, sharp and dangerously calm.
“I hope,” Ariella said, her voice almost gentle, “that one day someone loves you the way you’ve loved me.”
For the first time Cassandra had no reply, only for a second.
Then the mask returned.
She seized Ariella’s arm, her manicured nails digging painfully through the fabric of her sleeve.
“Enough.” Her tone became clipped once more.
“You will walk beside me.”
She pulled her toward the bedroom door.
“You will keep your head high.”
Another step.
“You will speak only when addressed.”
Another.
“You will become Grimshaw Blackridge’s mate.”
The door opened.
“And when you leave this house today…”
Cassandra didn’t even look at her.
“…you will take your curse with you.”
Ariella lowered her eyes to the bundle of incense in her hands.
No; she thought.
I’m taking far more than that.
I’m taking every scar you ever gave me.
And one day…
I’ll make every single one of you remember my name.