When the SUV finally stopped in front of the main building, Grimshaw didn’t wait for the driver.
He simply scooped her up again and carried her, jamming the car shut.
The heavy oak doors opened before they reached them.
An older woman with silver-streaked hair and a calm, weathered face stood just inside.
She wore a simple dark dress and an apron, her hands folded neatly in front of her.
Her eyes flicked once over Ariella’s ruined dress and streaked makeup before settling on Grimshaw.
“Elle,” Grimshaw barked as he strode past her without slowing.
“Get the tub ready.
Hot.”
“Yes, Alpha,” the woman replied without hesitation, already turning toward the stairs.
Ariella twisted in his arms.
“Put me down.”
Grimshaw ignored her.
He carried her up the wide staircase as though she were something fragile and valuable he had no intention of releasing.
His heartbeat was steady against her side.
Hers was not.
He took two steps at a time, rain glistening down his body.
When he got to the fourth floor, he took his left.
The master chamber was at the end of the hall.
He pushed the door open with his shoulder and stepped inside.
The room was vast—stone fireplace already lit, heavy timber beams overhead, one entire wall made of glass looking out over the rain-lashed cliffs.
The bed was enormous, covered in dark furs.
This was not a guest room.
This was his room.
He crossed the floor in three strides and dropped her onto the bed.
Ariella bounced once against the furs before scrambling upright, heart hammering.
Her dress was torn at the knee, soaked through, makeup running in dark tracks down her face.
She looked like a bride who had been dragged through hell.
Perhaps she had.
Grimshaw stood at the foot of the bed, rain dripping from his hair onto the stone floor.
He watched her with that same dark, unreadable intensity from the ceremony.
The bite mark on his shoulder was visible through the wet fabric of his shirt.
He hadn’t bothered to tend to it.
“You’re now in my sanctuary,” he said, voice low and rough.
“Take one step outside this room without my permission and the rogues beyond this territory will come for you without hesitation.”
Ariella’s breath came fast.
She pushed herself off the bed and stood on the other side, putting the massive mattress between them.
Her golden eyes burned.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped when he took a step closer.
Grimshaw didn’t stop.
He rounded the bed slowly, deliberate, until he stood directly in front of her.
Then he lifted one hand and cupped her cheek, thumb brushing rain and ruined makeup from her skin with surprising gentleness.
The contrast between his grip and the careful touch made her stomach tighten.
“You’re mine, kitten,” he said quietly.
The words landed like a brand.
Ariella jerked her face away, chest heaving.
“I am not your anything.”
Grimshaw’s hand fell, but the smirk that curved his mouth was slow and dark.
He looked like a man who had just been handed the exact challenge he had been waiting for.
“Get ready for a bath,” he said, turning toward the door.
“Elle will bring you clothes.
Try not to jump out any windows while I’m gone.”
He left without another word.
The door closed behind him with a heavy click.
The lock turned.
Ariella stood frozen for three full seconds.
Then she rushed forward and tried the handle.
It didn’t move.
She rattled it harder, yanking with both hands, but the lock held firm.
A bitter laugh escaped her throat before she could stop it.
Of course.
She moved to the tall glass wall instead, pressing her palms against the cold surface.
The drop outside was brutal—sheer cliff face disappearing into vast woods and jagged rocks below.
Even if she managed to break the glass, the fall would leave her with broken bones at best.
She wouldn’t make it ten feet.
Her mind began turning anyway.
School.
If she could get back to school tomorrow, she might have a chance.
But her brothers attended the same campus.
Atlas practically ran half the graduate programs.
Asher had classes in the same building.
Escaping through school would not be easy.
It might even be impossible.
The lock clicked again.
Ariella spun around.
Elle stepped into the room carrying a stack of folded clothes and a thick towel.
She closed the door behind her with quiet efficiency, but she didn’t lock it again.
Her movements were calm, unhurried, the kind that came from years of serving powerful men without being broken by them.
She set the clothes on a nearby chair and looked at Ariella with kind but unflinching eyes.
“You’re shaking, child,” she said softly.
“The bath is ready.
Hot, just as he ordered.
It will help.”
Ariella took a step back, fists clenched at her sides.
“I don’t want a bath,” she said, voice cracking with exhaustion and fury.
“I want to leave.
I want—”
She stopped.
The words caught in her throat.
Elle watched her for a long moment, then sighed.
“I don’t know what happened before you came here,” the older woman said gently.
“And I won’t ask.
But you’re here now.
And that man out there… he doesn’t break easy.
But neither do you, from what I just saw.”
Ariella’s eyes stung.
She turned away quickly, staring at the rain streaking down the glass wall.
“I signed the contract,” she whispered.
“I signed it.
And now I’m here.
With this stupid incense in my hand because my mother sold me as a breeder.
I exist only to give him pups, so she can stop hating me.”
Elle was quiet for a moment.
Then she crossed the room and gently took the bundle of incense from Ariella’s clenched fingers.
“You don’t have to burn this,” she said.
“Not tonight.
Not ever, if you don’t want to.”
Ariella’s head snapped toward her.
She couldn’t fathom her words.
Was she implying Grimshaw hadn’t brought her there to be his personal breeder?
Elle offered a small, tired smile.
“He is not a gentle man,” she continued.
“But he is not the monster they told you he was.
Not completely.
The rest… that’s for the two of you to decide.”
She gestured toward the open door leading to the bathing chamber.
Steam curled out into the bedroom.
“Take the bath, child.
Warm up.
The rest can wait until morning.”
Ariella stood there, rain still dripping from her hair, dress torn, makeup ruined, heart hammering with emotions she no longer had names for.
She looked at the open door.
Then at the locked balcony doors.
Then at the older woman who had spoken to her with more kindness in five minutes than her own mother had in twenty years.
Slowly, painfully, Ariella walked toward the bathing chamber.
Behind her, the door to the bedroom clicked shut again.
This time, it did not lock.