Chapter 71 71
His gaze lingered on the claimed mark at her neck, dark satisfaction curling through him as he admired it.
Sofía, meanwhile, stood frozen in place.
Every ounce of courage she had scraped together dissolved the moment she took in the scene before her. Fear rooted her to the ground, her body refusing to obey her frantic thoughts. The crowd, the stage, the atmosphere it all felt wrong. Ritualistic. As though she had been dragged here to be sacrificed for some ancient enchantment she didn’t understand.
Corinne pressed a hand to Sofía’s back, urging her forward.
Her feet moved only because they were forced to. Step by step, Corinne guided her toward the stage.
“W-what’s happening?” Sofía whispered shakily, her voice low enough that only Corinne could hear.
“A celebration,” Corinne replied softly. “The Ancient Blood pack has found their Luna.”
The words only deepened her confusion.
Her body stiffened when Corinne maneuvered her onto the stage. Sofía stood there like stone, head bowed, eyes locked on the floor.
Then she heard footsteps.
They were coming closer.
Panic screamed through her veins. Every instinct urged her to run to flee this place, this madness but her legs refused to move.
Fernando’s large hand closed around her cold one.
Sparks flared instantly at the contact.
“All this time I was away handling certain matters,” he announced, his voice carrying effortlessly across the gathering.
“The rogues believed they had killed me. I allowed them to think so. It gave me the perfect opportunity to disappear… and let them grow careless.”
A few snickers rippled through the crowd at the mention of rogues.
“And during that time,” he continued, “I found my mate.”
Her breath hitched.
“I present to you your Luna Sofía Ana Rodríguez.”
The way he said her name like a proclamation, like a crown being placed made her stomach twist violently.
Cheers erupted around her, loud and thunderous. The sound made her dizzy, nauseous. Everything about this felt primitive, barbaric—like something torn straight from a caveman era she didn’t belong to.
“She will join the pack tonight,” Fernando declared, “and become a true member of the Ancient Blood pack.”
Her heart pounded painfully.
Join the pack?
Become one of them?
Before she could process it, a man stepped forward holding an ornate dagger. He dropped to one knee and offered it up to Fernando with reverence.
Fernando took the blade and released her hand.
He placed the dagger against his own palm and sliced without hesitation.
Crimson blood welled instantly, dripping down his skin.
Sofía gasped.
But nothing prepared her for what came next.
Her head snapped up just as their eyes met. In that instant, she knew. Her mind screamed at her to run but her body betrayed her again.
Fernando took her hand and pressed the dagger into her trembling palm.
Tears flooded her eyes as she silently begged him not to hurt her.
“Relax,” he said quietly, as if the word held any comfort at all.
The blade flashed.
Pain exploded through her palm as he slashed it open. She bit hard into the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming.
Her hand burned.
It hurt deep and raw.
She stared in horror as her blood spilled onto the ground, mixing with his.
“I, Fernando Ruiz, Alpha of this pack,” he announced, his gaze flicking briefly to the mark on her neck, “welcome you to the Ancient Blood pack once and for all. You are one of us now. My Luna.”
She stood there, trembling, while his eyes traced her form.
She was magnificent deadly beautiful in that dress. The sight of other warriors looking at her made something violent stir inside him. He wanted to snatch her away, hide her from every gaze.
She was his.
Only his.
He laced their wounded hands together, forcing their blood to mingle.
A violent surge tore through Sofía’s body like lightning ripping through her veins. The power, the intensity, the sheer force of it terrified her.
The crowd erupted into roaring cheers.
Fernando released her hand and quickly wrapped it with his handkerchief, careful, almost gentle, as he tried to stop the bleeding.
Sofía remained frozen, her mind completely blank.
Fernando turned to his people.
“A war is coming,” he growled. “Blood will be shed. We will take revenge for our fallen brothers.”
The crowd went wild.
“Victory will be ours.”
The roar that followed was deafening.
“Let the feast begin!”
He took her hand again and led her away from the stage. She followed numbly, like a doll whose strings were being pulled.
Corinne approached but Fernando lifted a hand, stopping her instantly.
He led Sofía back into the mansion, into the same room she had been confined to since the night before.
The door closed.
The lock clicked.
He guided her to the bed and made her sit.
She didn’t resist. She didn’t react. Her mind was too numb to function.
Fernando disappeared into the restroom and returned moments later with a first-aid kit.
He sat beside her and carefully removed the handkerchief, cleaning her wound. She hissed softly at the sting.
Slowly hesitantly she lifted her gaze to him.
His brows were drawn together, jaw clenched, his entire focus on her hand as he worked with painstaking care.
He applied ointment, wrapped gauze around her palm.
“It’s not deep,” he said calmly. “No stitches needed.”
He released her hand and started to stand.
She grabbed his injured hand.
He froze.
Her eyes were locked on the wound in his palm already healing. The skin knit together before her eyes, seamless and unreal, until it looked as though he’d never been injured at all.
She stared, fascinated… shaken.
“Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
She lifted her head. Their eyes met.
“No,” she said honestly.
He sighed.
“Ana, I know I shouldn’t have lied to you,” he said gently, “but if I had told you the truth… you never would’ve loved me.”
Her lips parted.
“I don’t love you,” she whispered.
It felt like something crushed inside his chest.
“What?” he breathed.
“I lied,” she said again, her voice steady despite the pain tearing through her. “I don’t love you.”
And just like that
She broke him.