The heat of his bite throbbed still upon her skin as Aria leaned against the far side of the kitchen, shoulders braced against cold stone. Her trembling hands held a broken mug of hot tea she had long since forgotten to drink. The mark burned like acid, its warmth seeping through her as if her own blood burned.
The rest stirred up around her, clanging pots and shouting orders, but they were a muffled hum in her ears. She could only focus on the mark—the violation.
Why? Why bite her?
Her head reeled as she tried to make sense of what had happened in the forest. Damien didn't even speak to her. His eyes had flashed with something dark and menacing. And then he'd bitten her neck like an animal, walked away, and vanished without speaking.
Now, her body was betraying her. She was flushed, queasy, and hypersensitive to the touch. Her heart thundered too quickly, her legs buckled whenever she managed to stand. Like an infection creeping into her bloodstream, one that flared up at his scent when he came too close.
She was changing. But not shifting.
She could not alert anyone. She would not. Who would even listen to an omega?
---
Earlier That Day
Aria's days began the same every time—before the sun even brushed the horizon, before the pack stirred from sleep, she was already awake. The cold dampness of the stone floors chilled through her thin slippers as she stalked quietly into the kitchen to prepare the breakfast meal. She was always cautious, always careful about what she did. She never wanted to be noisy, but somehow, she always was.
The other omegas did not warmly greet her. Some avoided her altogether, while others quietly gossiped behind her back. Their glares bore pity or contempt—both of which were difficult to bear.
Not changing. Not good enough.
The parkour ceremony ritual earlier in the day had been the most brutal reminder. Aria had perched on the hard, gritty stones on the sidelines, observing as the other young wolves showcased their new shapes with pride. Others glowed in the light of the blood moon, their fur silver or dark midnight black, their eyes fiery and untamed. Aria's own reflection had refused to alter—a dull, gaunt girl with no sign of the wolf that was supposed to be hers.
The humiliation was suffocating.
"Look at her," someone spat beside her during the ritual. "The moon rejected her. A weak omega who'll never be anything."
She clenched her fists so hard the nails bit into her palms. But there were no words. What was she to say? How did she even explain the emptiness inside her where her wolf should be?
Later, in the dark of the great hall's walls, the elder omegas convened. Aria made sure to stand far back, yet the biting sting of their eyes followed her like a second skin.
"You believe she has any idea what it means to be a wolf?" one whispered venomously, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"She's hardly alive anymore in spirit," another retorted, her tone laced with cruel satisfaction.
Aria's throat closed. She wanted to curse them back and defend herself, but she let the pain lump slide down her throat and turned away. Her steps echoed hollowly through the stone corridors.
Their judgment lay heavy on her, more crushing than chains.
---
It was only now, with the fire burning her neck and the mark's raw pulse etched into her memory forever, that Aria's mind tangled in dread and confusion.
Why had Damien done this? What did it feel like to be marked by the Alpha without his consent?
Nobody would speak of these things aloud, but Aria had overheard stories and rumors—stories of mates and bonds that could break or bind a wolf for life. But she was an omega. What place did she have in such a myth?
As she looked up, her gaze caught the glint of movement at the kitchen door. Damien stood there, his tall, lean frame outlined against the faint light. His eyes locked hers for a moment, sparkling and unattainable, before he turned once more, a crease of annoyance twisting the line of his brow.
His scent enveloped her—black and commanding, pulling at something buried in her breast that she did not know.
Talia stood on the sidelines, a cold smile twisting on her lips as she observed Aria wriggling. To the world outside, she was elegant and poised—the perfect mate. But to Aria, she was something darker—a predator in silk.
Talia's laughter rang out across the air when Aria stumbled while holding a tray of food. She let it fall from her fingers, spilling the contents on the ground.
Oh, clumsy little omega," Talia mocked, voice honey-sweet but razor-sharp. "Let me help with that."
Her hand was patronizing as she took hold of Aria's arm to steady her, squeezing just hard enough to leave a tingling ache.
Aria's cheeks flushed, but she kept quiet.
Later that night, in the privacy of his room, Damien walked up and down like a caged wild animal. His Beta, Maddox, stood silently, watching his Alpha's agitated pacing.
"That smell is killing you, isn't it?" Maddox finally broke the tense silence.
Damien stopped, teeth clenched, and looked out of the window into the moonlit forest beyond.
It's not the scent," Damien snarled. "It's the bite. The claim. My wolf is rousing—howling in my mind."
Maddox nodded sympathetically. "You unofficially claimed her. That connection is stronger than you realize."
"I didn't want this," Damien spat. "I chose Talia."
"And yet your wolf chose her mate for you," Maddox replied.
Damien's fists became small, tight fists. "I won't let this ruin everything.".
Maddox remained silent, seeing the internal conflict of the Alpha a long way from being over.
---
Aria sprinted through the woods, desperation propelling her steps faster than her weak legs were capable of going. The trees loomed above like mutinous sentinels, their branches whispering secrets she couldn't quite understand.
She collapsed beside a mossy bank along the creek's edge, the frozen ground steadying her. But the fire within would not be dampened.
Her skin pulsed with a yearning she would not voice. Every nerve sang with pain and confusion. Her brain spun in dizziness of exhaustion and horror.
As the night descended, the wood about her pulsed with unseen life, as though the very air were full of magic.
She pressed her eyelids together, grasping the marking on her throat, pleading for explanations that never came.
---
Alone in her tiny room beneath the servants' loft, Aria shivered under a frayed blanket, chilled by the sweat her body produced.
Her thoughts raged, a whirlwind of terror, rage, and helplessness.
She hated the heat that enveloped her.
She hated the bond that was chaining her to a man who loathed her.
She hated the isolation that wrapped around her like a noose.
But most of all, she feared what was ah
ead.
For the pain of the bond was only just the start