Chapter 5 The Taste of Power

The silence pressed in once Damian left, thick and full of things unsaid.

He didn't slam the door behind him. Didn't lock it either. Just walked out like I wasn't a hostage in some gilded prison tucked away in the wilderness. Like I was supposed to feel grateful he didn't chain me to the bedpost.

I didn't move for a long while. I sat on the edge of the bed after kicking the door shut, the fire whispering behind me, casting flickering shadows that danced along the stone walls like they were trying to crawl into my skin.

The silence wasn't comforting. It was waiting.

Eventually, my arms wrapped around my knees, not because I was cold, but because I needed something, anything, to hold on to. I told myself I wasn't scared, but my chest betrayed me with every sharp breath.

He said I was his mate, whatever that means. That something had snapped in him the moment I spoke up in that boardroom. That wasn't romantic. That wasn't fate.

That was obsession. Possession. Whatever this was, it wasn't love.

The worst part? A small, traitorous part of me remembered the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing that had ever made him lose control. I hated that part of me most of all, and I'm beginning to regret why I spoke up at the boardroom when I was supposed to keep shut.

A soft knock pulled me out of my spiral. I didn't answer, but the door opened anyway.

She entered like she already owned the room. Tall, elegant, and terrifying in the calmest way possible. Her skin was rich bronze, her cheekbones sharp, her hair braided back into a flawless crown. She wore all black... simple, sharp, practical. But it was her eyes that froze me. Pale green orbs that was almost glowing.

"I thought you might be hungry," she said, her voice smooth and even, like warm honey with a dangerous undertone.

"I'm not interested in poisoned food, thanks," I said, giving her a pointed look.

A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, like I'd mildly amused her. "If we wanted you dead, Miss Carter, you wouldn't have woken up."

"Comforting," I muttered.

She walked across the room like she belonged in it and placed the silver tray on a low table near the window. The scent hit me immediately-something savory and rich, layered with herbs I couldn't quite place. My stomach growled, embarrassing and loud.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"My name is Maris," she said. "I run the estate. For Alpha Thorne."

"Alpha," I scoffed. "Right. The big scary wolf thing."

Her smile didn't waver. "Among other things."

I stared at her. "Is everyone here... like him?"

"Not everyone. But most."

"So I'm surrounded by monsters."

Her expression sobered. "Is that what you think we are?"

"You kidnapped me. Your boss or... or whatever drugged me. Forgive me if I'm not exactly team wolf,'' I replied, my voice coming out sharper than I intended.

She inclined her head slightly. "Understandable. Still, you should eat."

"And if I say no?" I questioning, raising a brow at her.

"You'll be very hungry," she said simply. "And the house doesn't like weakness."

I blinked. "The house?"

She said nothing. Just moved to the window and cracked it open. Cold air spilled in, sweeping through the room with the scent of pine and earth and something else-something wild. Electric.

"I know this is overwhelming," she said, looking out into the trees. "You've been pulled into something ancient. Older than the laws you know. Older than choice."

"Right. Because apparently I'm the chosen one now?"

She turned to me. "You're not chosen. You're claimed."

"I didn't agree to that."

"No one ever does," she said, voice soft but sure. "The bond doesn't care about consent. It just is. You can run from it. Fight it. Hate it. But it will still be."

I stood slowly, moving toward the table, arms crossed tight. The food smelled divine, but I didn't trust it. Or her. "I'm not some wolf's possession," I said, keeping my voice steady. "And I'm definitely not staying here."

"You're not a prisoner," she said.

I shot her a sharp look. "Funny. Because I don't remember asking to come here."

Maris studied me for a moment. "Would it make a difference if I told you others already know you exist?"

I froze. "Others?"

"There are rival packs," she said. "Shifters who would see a human mate as weakness. Or opportunity. Now that the bond has awakened, it's only a matter of time before they come looking."

"For me."

She nodded and my heart thudded once, hard.

"I didn't ask for this," I whispered, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

"No. But neither did he."

There was something in her tone then-something quieter, like she'd seen what this bond did to people. Maybe even lived it.

I looked at the tray again.Bread, stew, fresh fruit. It didn't smell drugged. It smelled like comfort. Like warmth. Like a part of me wanted it.

I hated that part too.

Maris walked toward the door, but paused before leaving. "One last thing," she said without turning around.

"What now? Do the sheets bite too?"

"If you try to leave," she said calmly, "the house will know. And it doesn't take kindly to uninvited guests who misbehave." And then she was gone.

I stared at the closed door, every inch of me burning with questions. What the hell did she mean, the house would know? Was it alive? Or was that just more of their weird shifter mind games?

Eventually, I sat down beside the tray and picked up a piece of bread. If they wanted me dead, they had a hundred better ways to do it. I took one bite. Then another. I hated how good it tasted. It made me feel like I hadn't eaten in days. Maybe I hadn't. I couldn't tell how long I'd been unconscious. Hours? A full day?

The stew was rich, earthy, and spiced in a way that warmed my throat. The fruit burst sweet on my tongue, and the water was cold and clean, as though it had been drawn straight from a mountain stream.

I didn't realize how much I'd eaten until the tray was empty.

Then, with nothing to do and no one to scream at, I crossed the room to the window and leaned out into the night. The air bit at my skin. It should've been freezing, but it felt... cleansing. Below, far beyond the cliffs and trees, I saw movement in the forest. A flicker of shadow between the trunks. Then a figure emerged from the woods, weaving silently between the trees.

Four-legged and massive. It looked like a wolf...no scratch that...it was a wolf. The way it moved-graceful but lethal. Its coat was nearly black, and its eyes...they glowed red and it was looking up. Right at me. Our gazes locked and a chill ripped through me so violently I nearly stumbled back.