Chapter 30 Thirty
Harper’s pov
We finally moved into Alpha Derek’s house — or should I say, my new father’s house.
The gates alone were taller than our old apartment building. Black iron, curved and sharp at the tips, sliding open with mechanical precision as our car rolled through. The estate stretched wide behind them, manicured lawns too perfect to be natural, stone pathways carved with deliberate symmetry. Everything about it screamed control.
Power.
Ownership.
I stepped out of the car slowly, my shoes crunching against pale gravel. The air here felt different. Thicker. Like it carried expectation.
Or warning.
My mother smoothed down her dress beside me, her posture already shifting into something more composed. More… Luna.
The massive front doors opened before we could knock.
Two servants stood on either side, bowing their heads respectfully. The scent of polished wood and something expensive drifted from inside. Warm. Clean. Immaculate.
A home that had never known chaos.
Or maybe one that buried it well.
“Welcome home, Luna,” one of them said to my mother.
Home.
The word scraped against my nerves.
My mother smiled softly and stepped forward. I followed a second behind, crossing the threshold like it might bite.
The foyer was enormous. Marble floors. High ceilings. A chandelier that glittered like frozen stars. Portraits of past alphas lined the walls, all of them with the same sharp eyes and dominant stance.
The legacy of power.
And somewhere in this house, chained beneath it all, was Koda.
The thought tightened something in my chest.
Alpha Derek appeared at the top of the staircase, descending with calm authority. He looked relaxed. Confident. Like yesterday’s chaos had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
“Welcome,” he said smoothly, his gaze settling on my mother first.
She moved toward him naturally, like she belonged at his side already. He kissed her cheek — controlled, performative.
Then his eyes shifted to me.
“And Harper,” he added, voice just a shade colder. “I trust you’re feeling better.”
“I’m fine,” I replied evenly.
His lips curved faintly. “Good. I would hate for you to feel… unwell in your new home.”
There it was.
The reminder.
This is my territory.
I forced myself not to react.
“Your rooms have been prepared,” he continued. “If you need anything, the staff is at your disposal.”
“I don’t need anything,” I said.
His eyes sharpened for a fraction of a second before smoothing over again. “Of course.”
Kai appeared from a hallway to the right, leaning casually against the wall as if he’d been watching the entire exchange. His gaze flicked to me, briefly assessing.
“You made it without attracting another rogue?” he asked lightly.
Derek’s head turned slightly. “Another?”
Kai didn’t miss a beat. “Just checking. The territory’s been restless.”
I held his gaze. He was covering for me.
Derek studied us both for a moment too long.
“Security has been doubled,” Derek said finally. “No one enters this land without my knowledge.”
The words felt deliberate.
No one enters.
So how had the rogue found me?
The whisper in my mind stirred.
Because it wasn’t sent.
It was drawn.
I swallowed the thought quickly.
“I’d like to rest,” my mother said gently, breaking the tension. “It’s been a long few days.”
“Of course,” Derek said, offering her his arm.
She took it.
And just like that, she walked deeper into his world.
I stood there for a moment longer before turning toward Kai.
“I need to see him,” I said quietly.
Kai’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Not a good idea.”
“I don’t care.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Then make it simple.”
He ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward where his father had disappeared. “You caused enough trouble at the wedding.”
“He’s your brother.”
His expression shifted — irritation giving way to something more complicated.
“Half-brother,” he corrected automatically.
“Still blood.”
He exhaled slowly. “You don’t even know what you’re walking into.”
“I saw him,” I said. “I saw what they did.”
“You saw part of it.”
“Then show me the rest.”
Silence stretched between us.
The house felt too quiet. Like it was listening.
Kai pushed off the wall. “Five minutes,” he muttered. “If my father finds out—”
“He won’t.”
“That’s optimistic.”
He didn’t wait for me to respond. He walked down a side corridor instead of toward the main staircase. I followed closely.
The further we moved from the central halls, the less polished everything became. The marble gave way to darker stone. The lighting dimmed. The air grew cooler.
He stopped in front of a door that looked nothing like the rest of the house.
Steel.
Reinforced.
No decoration.
“This wing is restricted,” Kai said quietly. “Officially, it doesn’t exist.”
My pulse quickened.
He unlocked it with a key from around his neck.
The door opened with a low mechanical hum.
The temperature dropped immediately.
The staircase descended below ground, the walls narrowing slightly as we went down. The scent shifted too — not rot, not decay, but something heavier.
Old power.
Suppressed.
My heart pounded harder with every step.
“Kai,” I whispered, “what exactly is wrong with him?”
He didn’t answer at first.
“He wasn’t always like this,” he said finally. “When he was a child, he disappeared for three days. They found him in rogue territory.”
“That’s what Derek told everyone.”
Kai glanced back at me. “My father told a version.”
We reached the bottom of the stairs.
Another door.
This one had claw marks etched deep into the metal.
Kai unlocked it slowly.
The room beyond was larger than I expected. Not a dungeon in the medieval sense. It was structured. Reinforced walls lined with symbols carved into stone — containment markings.
And in the center—
Chains.
Thick silver chains anchored to the floor and walls.
Koda sat against the far wall.
He looked up the second the door opened.
His eyes weren’t red.
They weren’t wild.
They were aware.
Sharp.
Intelligent.
And when they landed on me, something shifted in the air.
“You,” he said quietly.
My breath caught.
Kai stepped forward first. “Behave.”
Koda’s gaze flicked to him briefly before returning to me. He tilted his head slightly, studying me in a way that made my skin prickle.
“She shouldn’t be here,” he murmured.
“I wanted to come,” I replied before I could stop myself.
A faint, humorless smile touched his lips. “Curiosity is dangerous in this house.”
I stepped closer despite the chains, despite the warnings. The closer I got, the louder the whispers in my head became.
Not chaotic.
Harmonizing.
Like they recognized him.
“Koda,” I said softly, “are you possessed?”
The room went still.
Kai stiffened beside me.
Koda’s eyes darkened — not with madness, but with something deeper.
“No,” he said calmly.
The single word settled heavy in the air.
“Then why are you chained?” I asked.
He held my gaze, and for a second, I felt like he could see straight through me.
“Because,” he said quietly, “it’s easier to call something possessed than to admit you fear what it is.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“What are you?” I whispered.
His eyes flickered faintly — not red, not wolf — something older.
“Ask your new father,” he replied.
Footsteps echoed faintly above us.
Kai tensed immediately. “Time’s up.”
But Koda’s gaze never left mine.
And as Kai grabbed my arm to pull me back toward the stairs, I felt it clearly.
Whatever was happening.
Whatever the whispers were.
It wasn’t madness.
And it wasn’t random.
It was connected.
To him.
And somehow—
To me.
—
It was dinner time, and the smell of roasted meat, seasoned vegetables, and freshly baked bread filled the dining room of Alpha Derek’s mansion. The long, polished table gleamed under the chandelier lights, reflecting a perfection that felt too staged, too controlled. Every fork, every glass, every napkin in place. A family tableau that was meant to impress—but it made my stomach turn.
We all sat at the table, except for Koda. His seat was empty, a stark reminder that something wasn’t right. I could feel the tension in the room, like static electricity before a storm. Alpha Derek sat at the head, his posture perfect, the sharp lines of his suit matching the cold, immovable authority of his expression.
“It’s nice to see you again, Kai,” my mother said, her voice soft and practiced.
“Well, thank you. I’m glad you finally consider me a part of our family, Mother,” Kai replied smoothly, his words carrying that practiced charm that could melt even my mother’s guarded heart. I watched as she visibly softened, a smile breaking across her face that was almost… unguarded.
I rolled my eyes, pushing my chair back slightly. Everything about this felt so performative. Dinner wasn’t dinner—it was a show, a spectacle, a demonstration of how this “family” wanted the world to see them.
“Harper, so how are you liking your new room?” Alpha Derek asked, his eyes locking onto mine across the table. There was that calculating weight in his gaze, like he was measuring me, reading me, searching for weakness.
“Well, it’s okay,” I said, my voice flat. I forced myself to sit upright, to appear composed. But then I added, “Just that I can still hear the noise of chains rattling.” My words hung in the air, heavy, accusing. I could see my mother’s hand twitch slightly in surprise, and even Alpha Derek’s eyes narrowed, just a fraction.
“Oh, really? I will have that looked into,” The alpha said quickly, his voice tight. “I promise, Harper, I will do whatever it takes for your comfort, okay?”
I felt bile rise in my throat. Comfort. Comfort from the people who had trapped Koda, who allowed him to suffer while the rest of us played house. I pushed my plate back with more force than intended.
“I can’t,” I said, standing abruptly. “I can’t sit here and eat like we’re some perfect family.”
“Where are you going?” my mother asked sharply, worry lacing her tone
I snapped. “I can’t just sit here pretending everything is fine.”
“Harper—” my mother began, but Alpha Derek’s calm, commanding voice cut her off.
“It’s fine. Let her go,” he said. It was a short sentence, but it carried authority. I didn’t wait. I grabbed my jacket and stormed out, ignoring the protests of my mother as I made my way to the dungeon.
The air in the hallway felt different, heavier, colder. Each step toward the dungeon made my chest tighten. The light dimmed as I approached the heavy metal door. My hand trembled slightly as I turned the handle and pushed it open.
“Seems you’re having a soft spot for me,” a voice said from the shadows. I froze immediately. The red glow of eyes met mine. It wasn’t Koda. The One.
“Well, I was hoping for Koda,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear curling in my stomach, “but I guess you had to come.” I tried to keep my tone nonchalant, like this was just another inconvenience.
He stepped forward, fluid and menacing, eyes fixed on the plate I was carrying. “What’s that?” he asked, tilting his head.
“A plate of food,” I replied, setting it carefully down on the edge of the table in front of him. “You must be hungry.”
“You brought it for the weak one,” he said, voice mocking, a sinister note threading through it. His eyes flicked toward Koda’s empty chains.
“Same thing,” I said, meeting his gaze without flinching.
I took a spoon of spaghetti and held it toward him. His glowing eyes tracked my movement, calculating, teasing.
“You want to poison me? Believe me, it wouldn’t harm anyone but your precious little friend here,” he said, chuckling darkly.
“Now, will you eat and stop complaining?” I said, pressing the spoon to his lips. He hesitated, watching me carefully, before finally opening his mouth. I fed him a few bites, keeping my movements slow and deliberate, forcing control into a situation that had none.
To my surprise, he actually began to eat. I handed him water, and he drank, eyes still never leaving mine.
Then, suddenly, his voice changed. “Do you love me?” he asked, a question so abrupt and jarring it made me choke on the water.
I coughed violently, my heart hammering. “What?” I spluttered, gripping the edge of the table.
He leaned forward slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Do you love me?” he repeated, slow and deliberate this time. The red glow in his eyes intensified.