The bathing chamber was larger than Ariella’s entire old bedroom.
Steam curled thick in the air, carrying the faint scent of lavender and jasmine.
A massive stone tub had already been filled, water so hot it shimmered.
Elle moved quietly around the space, laying out thick towels and a simple black robe on a wooden bench.
She didn’t ask questions.
She simply worked with the calm efficiency of someone who had seen too many broken things walk through these doors.
Ariella stood in the center of the room still wearing the torn dress.
The bundle of incense her mother had given her lay on the edge of the tub like a threat.
“You don’t have to use that,” Elle said softly, nodding toward the herbs.
“He told me to prepare the bath, not the incense.
Whatever your mom said… it doesn’t matter here.”
Ariella’s fingers tightened at her sides.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” Elle replied.
“I’ve been with Alpha Grimshaw long enough to know he doesn’t force what isn’t freely given.
Not that kind of thing.
So be rest assured.”
The words should have brought relief.
Instead they only made the knot in Ariella’s chest tighter.
She didn’t want kindness from this place.
Kindness made it harder to stay angry.
She stepped out of the ruined dress and lowered herself into the water without another word.
The heat stung her scraped knees and bruised elbows, but it also loosened something deep in her muscles.
It was her first time in a decade taking a hot bath, she hadn’t been allowed that luxury back in Black ridge.
For the first time since the ceremony, her body stopped shaking.
Elle knelt beside the tub and began gently washing the streaks of makeup from Ariella’s face with a soft cloth.
Her touch was careful, almost maternal.
It made Ariella want to cry and scream at the same time.
“I don’t need your help,” Ariella muttered.
“You don’t,” Elle agreed.
“But sometimes it’s easier to let someone else hold the cloth when your hands won’t stop shaking.”
Ariella closed her eyes.
The water lapped gently against her skin.
She tried to focus on her plan.
But she couldn’t, her plans was suddenly invaded by too many emotions she hadn’t allowed herself to feel for years.
The door to the bathing chamber opened.
Grimshaw stepped inside.
He had changed into a clean black shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the fresh bite mark on his shoulder.
It had already stopped bleeding, but the imprint of her teeth was clearly visible.
He didn’t seem bothered by it.
If anything, the way his eyes lingered on her in the tub suggested he was remembering exactly how she had given it to him.
Elle stood immediately.
“Alpha.”
“Leave us,” Grimshaw said.
Elle gave Ariella one last gentle look before slipping out and closing the door behind her.
The room suddenly felt much smaller.
Ariella sank lower in the water, arms crossed over her chest.
“I thought you said the bed was mine tonight.”
“It is,” Grimshaw replied.
He leaned against the stone wall, watching her with that same dark, unhurried intensity.
“I’m not here to join you.
I’m here to make sure you don’t try to climb out the window next.”
“I already checked,” she said coolly.
“The drop would break my legs.
I’m not stupid.”
“No,” he agreed.
“You’re not.
You’re reckless.
There’s a difference.”
He pushed off the wall and walked closer, stopping at the edge of the tub.
Steam rose between them.
The air felt thick, charged.
Ariella refused to look away from his eyes even though every instinct told her to.
“You bit me hard enough to draw blood,” he said, tilting his head so she could see the mark clearly.
“Most women would apologize.
You look like you want to do it again.”
“I do.”
A slow smile curved his mouth.
It wasn’t kind.
It was the smile of a man who had just been handed exactly what he wanted.
“Good,” he murmured.
“I meant what I said earlier.
I don’t want an obedient wife.
I want the one who jumps out of moving cars and bites hard enough to scar.
That woman is far more useful to me.”
Ariella’s heart slammed against her ribs.
“You enjoy this,” she accused.
“You enjoy that I hate you.”
“I enjoy that you’re not boring,” he corrected.
He crouched beside the tub so they were almost eye level.
“Kitten, you look at me like you want to set the room on fire.
It’s refreshing.
It’s gives me orgasm.”
She laughed once, sharp and disbelieving.
“Refreshing?
Orgasm?
That’s what you call forcing a woman into marriage and then locking her in your bedroom?”
“You did that yourself.
And the door isn’t locked anymore.
You’re free to walk out of this room.
But the moment you step outside the compound without me, the rogues beyond these walls will smell a lone, unclaimed female and they won’t be as patient as I am.”
Ariella’s jaw tightened.
“So I’m a prisoner either way.”
“You’re my wife,” he said, voice dropping.
“There’s a difference.
One I intend to teach you.”
He reached out and brushed a wet strand of hair from her cheek.
The touch was light, but the possessiveness behind it was not.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered.
Grimshaw’s fingers lingered anyway.
“You’re mine, gingerhead,” he said softly.
“You’re my mate.
That means I get to touch you.
And you get to fight me every time I do.
I look forward to it.”
The air between them crackled like live wire.
Ariella wanted to slap his hand away.
She also wanted to lean into the touch just to see what he would do.
The contradiction made her furious.
She chose fury.
“Get out,” she said.
Grimshaw’s smile widened, dark and satisfied.
He stood slowly, towering over the tub once more.
“Enjoy your bath,” he said.
“When you’re done, come to bed.”
He walked to the door, then paused.
“Oh, and Ariella?”
She glared at him.
“Don’t bother planning your escape through the university,” he said.
“Your brothers attend the same campus.
Atlas already sent word that you’ll be escorted to and from every class.
You won’t have a single moment alone.”
Her stomach dropped.
Grimshaw’s eyes softened by a fraction, not with pity, but with something closer to recognition.
“Enjoy your bath,” he told her.
“Tomorrow the real war begins.”
He left the bathing chamber, closing the door behind him with a quiet click.
Ariella sat in the steaming water long after he was gone, heart pounding, mind racing, the silver-dark presence inside her chest humming with equal parts rage and reluctant fascination.
She was trapped.
And the man holding the key seemed to enjoy watching her rattle the cage.