Chapter 2 The Icy Grip of Fate
Isabella's POV
Before I could even process his words, before I could scream or beg or do anything but stare in wide-eyed horror, the cabin door swung open.
It was as if someone had thrown open a door to the arctic north itself. The temperature in the room didn’t just drop..it plummeted.
A freezing wind swept in, carrying a powerful aura. Every person in the room... the guards, Axle, even my worthless father... seemed to shrink, their postures slumping into instant, cowering submission.. and then he walked in.
My breath hitched in my throat. I’d heard the stories, the whispered warnings around dying campfires.. but the tales didn’t come close to the reality.
Alpha Landon Whitaker..!
He was… breathtaking.. and not in a good way. Well, okay, in a terrifyingly, stupidly handsome way. He was the kind of handsome that makes you forget your own name, then reminds you that you’re probably about to die.
He was tall with shoulders that seemed to block out the weak light from the door, he was dressed in sleek black fur and leather that spoke of wealth and brutal efficiency.
His jaw was sharp enough to cut stone and his eyes… his eyes were the color of a winter sky just before a blizzard and they swept over the room with an utter lack of interest as if we were all just mildly disappointing insects.
He completely ignored everyone, his gaze finally landing on Axle who was now sweating despite the cold.
“Well?” Landon’s voice was low with a rumble of distant thunder that vibrated deep in my bones. It wasn’t loud. It was worse. It was absolute. “Where is it?”
Axle actually stammered.
“A-Alpha Whitaker. Welcome. We... we have her. Right here.” He gestured a shaking hand toward me.
It? Her? My mind was scrambling, a mouse in a trap.
Landon’s glacial eyes flicked to me and for a second, they held nothing. No curiosity, no malice, no recognition of me as a living thing. I was an object.. a piece of furniture he’d come to collect.
And that’s when it clicked. I was been traded to him!
The air rushed out of my lungs.
“No,” I whispered. Then I found my voice, a thin, reedy thing. “No! You can’t do this! I didn’t do anything! This is my father’s crime, not mine!”
I turned my fury on my father.
“Tell them! Tell them I knew nothing!”
He just stared at the floor, a single tear cutting through the grime on his cheek.. useless.. absolutely useless.
Landon’s head turned back toward me, slowly. That was it.. just a turn of his head. His eyes locked with mine.
It wasn’t a glare. It wasn’t a threat. It was just a look.. a cold, blank, utterly blood-chilling look that said, more clearly than any shout, You are nothing. You are less than nothing. Be silent.
My voice died in my throat, strangled by pure terror. My muscles locked up and every instinct in my body, every weak pulse from my frail wolf, screamed at me to submit, to hide, to disappear.
Axle found his voice again, desperate to fill the silence.
“As... as agreed, Alpha. A token of our… our continued goodwill. Victor’s actions with Royce Bennett were his own! Our settlement remains loyal to our… understanding with you. The girl is yours. To do with as you please.”
Understanding.. that’s what they called a fragile peace held under the threat of utter annihilation. And my father had threatened it. And I was the peace offering.
The horror of it chilled the blood in my veins. I was a slave. I was to be this monster’s slave!
Without another thought, without a plan, pure panic took over and I bolted.
I scrambled to my feet, my legs weak and trembling and lunged for the still-open door and I didn’t get two steps. I didn’t even see what hit me.
There was just a sharp, blinding explosion of pain at the back of my head and the world folded into buzzing blackness.
Consciousness returned in a jumble of aches and sounds and the first thing I was aware of was a rhythmic, bumping motion. The second was a deep, throbbing pain in my skull and the third was a far worse searing agony around my wrists and ankles.
I forced my eyes open.. darkness.. and the smell of hay, rust and… me. It took a moment for my vision to adjust.
I was in a cage.. a literal, iron-barred cage like something you’d use for a dangerous animal. It was sitting in the back of a wooden wagon, the canvas flaps tied open to the gray wintery world rushing past.
Silver chains..
They were clamped around my wrists, tempered with silver. Thin, cruel lines of metal that burned against my skin with a constant, sizzling pain. It was a pain designed to keep a werewolf weak, subdue and miserable. Believe me, it was working.
I pushed myself up, my chains clinking and grabbed the cold iron bars. We were part of a convoy. Several other carriages and riders on massive horses surrounded us, all moving at a steady relentless pace.
“Hey!” My voice came out a dry croak. I cleared my throat and tried again, yelling at the stone-faced guard riding closest to the wagon. “Please! You have to listen! There’s been a mistake!”
He didn’t even glance in my direction.
“I’m innocent! My father... he’s the one you want! Not me! Please!”
Nothing. His face was impassive. I looked to the guard on the other side but same thing.. not a flicker of emotion, not a twitch of sympathy. I was cargo.. toublesome cargo.
Defeated, I slumped back against the bars, the cold metal seeping through my thin clothes and I watched the frozen landscape roll by, my home, the miserable rogue settlement, disappearing behind us forever. The tears that came this time were silent and hot.
After what felt like an eternity, the convoy began to slow. The imposing silhouette of a huge stone fortress came into view, surrounded by high grim walls. The Eclipse Pack.
As we passed through the main gates, people stopped to stare. Their eyes weren’t curious or friendly.. they were hard, cold, and assessing. I saw a few smirks. I was the new spectacle.. the caged animal.
The wagon rattled to a halt in a vast courtyard. The cage door was unlocked and a guard with a grip like iron hauled me out. My legs, stiff and sore, almost buckled as he half-dragged me up a grand staircase and through towering double doors into the pack house.
The interior was all dark wood, roaring fireplaces and trophies of conquest. It was powerful, intimidating and utterly bleak. We didn’t stop.
We climbed more stairs and emerged onto a large balcony overlooking the courtyard, which was now filled with waiting pack members.
And there he was.
Alpha Landon stood at the balcony’s edge with his back to me, a king surveying his domain. The guard forced me to my knees on the cold stone floor, right at Landon’s boots.
Another guard stepped forward with a key and finally, finally, unlocked the silver cuffs from my wrists and ankles. The relief was immediate and so profound I almost cried out as the burning stopped, leaving behind raw, tender skin.
But the relief was short-lived. Another guard approached and in his hands was a new set of chains. This one was a single, thick leash of dark metal, connected to a collar.. a dog collar and before I could react, it was clamped around my neck.
It was cold and heavy, resting against my collarbones and it didn’t burn like the silver but its weight was a different kind of pain... a crushing brand of ownership.
Landon finally turned around. His wintery eyes swept over the crowd below and a silence fell so complete you could hear the snow falling.
“Pack of Eclipse,” his voice rang out, clear and hard, echoing off the stone walls. “You see this creature at my feet?”
A low murmur rippled through the crowd.
“This is Isabella Sinclair. She is the daughter of the rogue who betrayed our borders to Royce Bennett. She is now my property. My slave.” He let those words hang in the air. “She is here to serve. To obey. And…”
He paused, his gaze dropping down to me.
“…to breed.”
The world stopped.
Breed?
My head snapped up, my eyes wide with a terror so new and so profound it made everything before it feel like a mild discomfort.
Breed? What exactly did that mean?!