FATED TO MY DESPISED ALPHA

Elara's POV

I stood by the window covered with frost, tracing my fingers over its glass. The cold seeped through to my skin, but I didn't pull away. Outside, the trees moved in the biting wind, their branches reaching toward the grey sky. They stood tall, unmoved by the chaos that swirled inside these walls. I envied them-their stillness, the quietness they maintained,I wished I could feel the same.

"Elara!" Magnus's voice thundered through the hallway, sharp and commanding. Even from behind the closed door, it made me shiver. His tone wasn't a request; it was an order, like always. My stomach twisted, the knot of anger I kept buried tightening. I took a breath, letting the icy air of my room fill my lungs. Whatever he wanted, I would face it the way I always had: head held high, no matter how much it cost me.

I pushed open the door and made my way toward the grand hall, my shoes making sounds against the wooden floor. The sound echoed in the empty corridor, each step a reminder of the silence that ruled this house unless Magnus chose to break it. The shadowy lights overhead flickered as I passed, casting faint shadows that seemed to shrink under his rule, just like everyone else.

When I entered the hall, I found him pacing in front of the massive fireplace. His presence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. He turned as I approached, his dark eyes looking onto me and I felt the weight of his gaze settle on me.

"You called for me?" I asked, keeping my voice steady. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing any fear in me.

Magnus stopped pacing and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you know why you're here?"

"No," I replied, moving my head slightly. "But I'm sure you're about to tell me."

His jaw tightened at my tone, but I didn't care. Let him be angry.

"You're to be mated to Kieran Blackridge," he said, his voice as blunt as a hammer.

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. For a moment, I just looked at him, my mind struggling to process what he'd said. Kieran Blackridge. The name alone was enough to send a shiver down my spine. The infamous Alpha of the Blackridge pack, known for his ruthlessness, his unyielding power, and his cold, calculating nature. And now, according to Magnus, I was supposed to be bound to him.

"You're joking," I said finally, my voice low but sharp.

"This isn't a joke, Elara," Magnus shouted "The alliance with the Blackridge pack is necessary. Their resources and warriors are the only thing keeping Thornwood safe from rogue attacks. This is about survival."

"Survival?" I spat, my voice rising. "No, this is about you. About your pride, your ambition. You're not doing this for the pack-you're doing it for yourself. And you're using me to do it."

Magnus's expression darkened, and before I knew it , he was in front of me. His hand shot out, gripping my arm tightly. "Watch your tone," he growled. "You may not like it, but this isn't up for discussion. You will do what's required of you, Elara. That's final."

I yanked my arm free, my chest filled with rage. "You can force me to stand next to him, but you'll never make me submit," I said, my voice trembling with anger. "You'll regret this, Magnus."

Before he could respond, I turned on my heel and stormed out of the hall. My shoes struck the floor hard with every step, the sound echoing like the pounding of my heart. The air outside hit me like a slap when I stepped out, cold and sharp. I didn't stop walking until I reached the edge of the forest, where the snow was, a blanket of white beneath the tall, silent trees.

I Leaned against one of the trees, I closed my eyes and let the rough bark press into my back. The cold air stung my cheeks, and my breath came out in short, visible puffs. I tried to calm the storm raging inside me, but the anger refused to settle. Tears pricked my eyes, hot and unwelcome, but I blinked them away. Crying wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't undo Magnus's decree or the way he had stripped me of my choice.

"Elara?" A soft voice broke through the quiet.

I opened my eyes to see Lila, my younger sister, making her way toward me. Her dark hair framed her pale face, her eyes filled with worry. She wrapped her cloak tightly around her as she stepped carefully through the snow.

"I heard what happened," she said when she reached me. Her voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of her concern. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head, unable to find the words. Lila stepped closer and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a warm, firm hug. Her embrace was steady, calming me in a way I hadn't realized I needed.

"You're stronger than this," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "Magnus thinks he can control you because that's all he knows how to do. But he doesn't understand you, Elara. Don't let him break you."

Her words lit a spark inside me, small but bright. I pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. "I won't let him win," I said, my voice steadier now. "If Magnus thinks I'll just go along with this, he's wrong. And if Kieran Blackridge thinks I'm some weak little pawn, he's in for a surprise."

Lila smiled faintly and squeezed my shoulders. "Good. That's the Elara I know. Remember, you're not alone in this. No matter what happens, I've got your back."

She gave me one last hug before turning to head back to the house. I stayed where I was, staring into the forest, Magnus might think he held all the power, but he was wrong. I wasn't going to let him-or anyone else-decide my fate.

Elara's POV

Kieran Blackridge. His name alone carried a reputation of fear-a man colder than ice itself and just as unforgiving. My heartbeat drummed loudly in my ears, but I forced my breathing to stay calm. If I showed even an inch of weakness, I'd be proving everyone right.

The fire was moving behind me, but it did nothing to ease the chill crawling down my spine. Magnus had dressed me in a green gown that was too tight to my body, its neckline far lower than I was comfortable with. "Appearances are important," he'd said. As if a dress would make any difference to the man about to walk through those doors.

Suddenly the door opened and

There he was.

Kieran walked in, his coat sweeping behind him, every step deliberate and unhurried. His face was like stone, his gray eyes sharp and piercing as they locked onto me. For a moment, I forgot to breathe. He was taller than I'd imagined, broader too, with dark hair that looked like it had been carelessly raked back. The kind of man who didn't bother with charm because he didn't need it.

He stopped just inside the room, his gaze scanning over me like I was a thing, not a person.

"Elara Thornwood," he said, his voice cold and smooth, like ice sliding over stone.

I lifted my chin. "You must be Kieran Blackridge."

He raised a brow, clearly unimpressed by my tone. "You sound less enthusiastic than most would in your position."

"Forgive me if I don't faint at the sight of a man known for his brutality," I shot back, my voice sharper than a blade.

A flicker of something passed through his eyes-amusement, maybe-but it disappeared just as quickly.

He stepped closer, his towering frame almost swallowing the space between us. "Brutality keeps people alive, Miss Thornwood. Something your pack seems to lack, considering why we're here."

Anger rised in my chest, hot and wild, but I refused to let him see it. "My pack didn't need your help. This was Magnus's idea, not mine."

Kieran leaned in slightly, the coldness in his expression enough to send a shiver through me. "You think I want this? A bond with someone as weak and ungrateful as you?"

The words hit me harder than I expected, but I refused to let him see the hurt. "Weak? You don't know anything about me."

He then moved his head, his gaze as sharp as a predator preparing to rat up its prey. "I know enough. You're a means to an end, Elara. Nothing more."

My chest tightened, but the anger bubbling under my skin gave me the strength to stand taller. "Then don't expect me to make this easy for you, Kieran."

His lips curved into the faintest smirk, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, I never expect anything to be easy. Least of all dealing with someone who mistakes stubbornness for strength."

The fire in me rose to life. "And I didn't expect a man so feared to be nothing more than an arrogant coward, hiding behind his reputation."

The room seemed to freeze. Kieran's smirk vanished, replaced by a hint of something darker, something dangerous. He stepped even closer, his breath brushing against my cheek.

"Careful, Elara," he murmured, his voice like a blade slicing through the air. "Words like that can get you hurt."

My heart pounded, but I refused to back down. "Go ahead and try. At least I'd feel something other than the disgust I feel standing in the same room as you."

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought I'd gone too far. But then he straightened, his face emotionless once more. "Disgust is mutual," he said coldly.

Magnus cleared his throat loudly, cutting through the tension. "Enough," he barked. "This bond is about survival, not your petty feelings. You'll both do your part, whether you like it or not."

Kieran didn't even glance at Magnus. His eyes stayed locked on mine, as if daring me to break first. I didn't.

"Understood," he said finally, though his voice lacked any trace of sincerity.

I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. "Good," I spat, turning on my heel. I needed to get out of there before I did something reckless, like throw a vase at his head.

As I reached the doorway, his voice stopped me.

"Elara."

I froze, the sound of my name on his lips sending a strange chill down my spine. I turned to look at him, my glare sharp enough to cut.

"This won't be easy for either of us," he said, his tone cold but quieter. "But don't make the mistake of thinking I care about how you feel."

I held back the urge to snap at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, I walked away, each step fueled by a mix of anger and something else I didn't want to name.

A rustle of movement made me look back. Kieran stood in the doorway, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"We'll see how long your fire lasts," he said, his voice carried by the wind.

I turned away, my hands curling into fists. "Longer than your ice, Blackridge."

But even as I said it, I couldn't ignore the spark that flared between us-fiery and dangerous, clashing against his cold, unyielding presence.

And I hated him for it.

Elara's POV

It wasn't the dress that made me feel trapped, though. It was the man beside me, his presence colder than the walls surrounding us.

Kieran stood at my side, his posture very stiff and his expression unreadable. I could feel the space between us, very big and large as an ocean. His eyes, dull and uninterested, looked over my face as if he was preparing me for something far less personal than what we were about to do. His eyes met mine for only a little moment, a quick glance that lasted no longer than the flicker of a candle before it shifted away. He didn't care what I thought. He didn't care what I felt.

I wasn't his wife-to-be in his eyes. I was a tool, a means to an end. The union wasn't for love or affection. It was for power. And as much as I hated it ,, there was nothing I could do to escape it now.

"Elara," Kieran's voice sliced through the silence like a blade, smooth, detached, but carrying a faint hint of impatience. "Hold still. You're fidgeting."

I didn't respond. I couldn't. The words stuck in my throat, a bitter lump of resentment, anger, and helplessness. How could he stand there, looking so calm, so indifferent? I wanted to scream at him, to demand some kind of acknowledgment of the pain I was feeling, but I knew it would be pointless.

Magnus, my Uncle , stood at the front, a wicked smile curling the corners of his lips as he watched us. His satisfaction at forcing me into this marriage was limitless. Every moment of this ceremony, every step of this charade, was part of a game he'd been playing for years, a game where I was the pawn.

The priest's voice was a low murmur as he recited the vows. The words were lost on me. I couldn't hear them. I couldn't focus on anything but the coldness of the room, the coldness of Kieran's presence, the coldness of my uncle's manipulation. Every breath felt like it burned my lungs, every movement I made heavy and forced.

I held my jaw, swallowing the rising tide of emotion that threatened to break through my carefully constructed walls. Kieran barely moved. He stood like a statue, his face unreadable, but I knew him well enough now to know he didn't care about this moment. He didn't care about me.

His hands didn't shake when they reached for mine. They were firm, cold, dispassionate. His fingers brushed against my skin with the same coldness he treated everything else.

The connection between us felt like a void, an endless one.. There was nothing in him that acknowledged the weight of what we were about to do. To him, it was just another transaction, another piece in his rise to power.

I could feel the anger building inside me, hot and sharp. It bubbled up from the pit of my stomach, clawing its way up my chest. But I held it in check. If I allowed it to spill over, if I allowed myself to show any sign of weakness, Magnus would see it, Kieran would see it. They would both take pleasure in it.

I was no longer Elara Thornwood,I was nothing more than a piece of property to be exchanged, a pawn to solidify Kieran's claim to power. And they all knew it.

"I, Kieran of House blackridge , take you, Elara of House Thornwood to be my wife," Kieran said, his voice so flat it could have been a recording. The words felt hollow, empty. They didn't mean anything coming from him.

His gaze looked down to me as I struggled to hold back the surge of disgust that moved in my stomach. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to be married to him. I wanted to scream, to run, to burn everything to the ground and escape from the suffocating control that gripped me. But there was no escape. Not now.

The priest's words continued, his voice echoing on in the background. "Do you, Elara of House Thornwood , take Kieran of House Blackridge to be your husband?"

I had no choice. None at all. The words stuck in my throat for a moment, the weight of them suffocating me. But in the end, I managed to force them out.

"I do."

I couldn't bring myself to look at Kieran as I spoke those two words. They felt like a betrayal of everything I had ever been. But I had no other choice. I had no other options.

Kieran's lips curled into a small, mischievous smile, though it was more of a smirk than anything resembling warmth or affection. He squeezed my hand tighter, almost painfully, as if to remind me of his dominance over this union, over me.

The priest continued with the ceremony, the words meaningless to me. Everything felt like it was happening to someone else, not me. The vows, the rings, the promises-none of it mattered. It was all a show, a performance for the sake of power and politics.

As the ceremony dragged on, I couldn't help but feel the crushing weight of Kieran's indifference. His lack of care wasn't a surprise, but it still stung. How could he stand there, so unmoved by the fact that he was taking away everything from me? How could he stand there, so willing to discard the truth of who I was in favor of his own ambition?

When the priest finally declared us husband and wife, it felt like a knife in my chest. The finality of it hit me back to my reality..

Kieran leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "You belong to me now, Elara."

The coldness of his breath sent a shiver down my spine. It wasn't a promise. It was a threat.

I wanted to push him away. I wanted to scream at him, to slap him across the face and tell him that he didn't own me. But I didn't. I couldn't. Not here. Not now.

Magnus's voice rang out, loud and happy as he stepped forward, clapping his hands in mock joy. "Congratulations, my daughter. And to you, Kieran, my new son-in-law. The future of both our houses is secure."

His smile was wide, like a mad man as he looked at the two of us. But I knew it wasn't joy he felt. It was a triumph. Magnus had won. He had succeeded in forcing me into this union, and now Kieran would have the power he sought. I was nothing more than a pawn in their game.

As the applause echoed through the hall, I stood frozen, my face a mask of composure, but inside, I was screaming. I wanted to tear this all down. I wanted to break free of this marriage, of this life, of these chains that held me prisoner.

But there was nothing I could do. Not yet.

Not until the time was right.

KIeran's POV

Elara sat beside me, stiff and quiet, her hands tightly holding on to her lap. Her face didn't show much, but I could feel her anger in the air between us. It was so obvious, it almost made me smile.

She hated me. That was plain to see.

Good. Hatred was simple. It made things clear. She wasn't here because of love, and I wasn't going to pretend otherwise.

When we arrived at my territory , I stepped out first and turned to offer her my hand. She looked at it for a moment, her lips pressed in a straight, hard line, before she finally placed her hand in mine. Her touch was cold and stiff, but steady. I noticed the look of rebellion in her eyes, but I didn't acknowledge it. Instead, I led her up the stairs and through the heavy double doors.

The silence came with us, broken only by the sound of her heels tapping on the marble floor. She walked tall, her head held high, her shoulders straight. It was like she was trying to convince herself this wasn't a prison. I didn't say a word. What was there to say? The wedding was done. The documents were signed. She belonged to me now, no matter how much she hated it.

When we stopped outside my chambers, I turned to her.

"This is where I'll sleep," I said evenly. "Find somewhere else for yourself."

Her head turned toward me, her eyes wide and filled with anger. "What?" she demanded, her voice sharp.

"You heard me," I said, keeping my tone cold. Without waiting for her response, I opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it firmly behind me. I locked it with a loud click.

For a moment, everything was quiet. Then, a soft knock broke the silence. It sounded hesitant, almost unsure.

"Kieran," she called through the door, her voice echoed "Open the door."

I ignored her. Removing my jacket, I walked to the fireplace and put it on,letting the warmth spread through the room.

The knock came again, harder this time. "Kieran! Open this door right now!"

Still, I didn't answer. I poured myself a drink, the clink of glass on glass the only sound in the room. I sat down in my chair, letting the fire's heat soak into my skin.

Then the pounding began. "You bastard!" she yelled, her voice filled with fury. "You think you can treat me like this? Open the door!"

Her fists pounding against the wood, the sound echoing in the room. "You coward! You arrogant, spineless-open this door, or I swear I'll-"

The anger that had been bubbling in me snapped. I stood quickly, the chair scraping against the floor as I crossed the room in a few steps. I unlocked the door and threw it open so fast, she almost lost her balance.

She stumbled back a step but held her ground, her fists still raised as if ready to pound on the door again. Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling with every furious breath. Her eyes, burning with defiance, met mine without looking away.

"You do not bang on my door like a servant throwing a tantrum," I said, my voice low and sharp. "Do you understand?"

"Or what?" she shot back, lifting her chin. "You'll throw me out? You'll hit me? Go ahead, Kieran. Show me exactly what kind of monster you are."

I took a step closer, and so did she, refusing to back down. My hand moved at my side, the urge to shut her up overwhelming. My fingers curled into a fist, but I stopped myself, forcing the anger back.

Instead, I slammed the door shut in her face again and locked it. Her shouting started up immediately, a stream of curses and insults that pounded against the door like her fists had moments before. But I let it wash over me like noise. She could scream all night if she wanted. It wouldn't change a thing.

Eventually, her voice faded. The silence that followed was heavier than before. I didn't bother checking to see where she'd gone. Let her find her place. Let her hate me. That hatred would keep things simple.

This was my house, my rules. And she would learn them soon enough.