Word Count: 2040

~Aesira

Maven walks unbearably quick, leading me up the spiralling staircase.

My lungs burn as I hoist up the skirts of this dress, which seem to weigh a ton. The corset binding my torso has my ribs pressed so tightly together I fear they may clash.

"You will be expected to abide by every rule. No exceptions," Maven prattles on, not waiting for me as I pause at the top of the stairs to catch my breath.

Rules? What rules, I want to ask, could possibly have been constructed in the time it has taken me to arrive in this pack and be declared Everin's bride?

I keep my thoughts to myself as I drag in another wary breath.

My heeled shoes click against the wood floor as Maven leads me into a different wing of the home. Here, the natural wood has been slathered with gaudy wallpaper, the lavish rugs are gone and there are no furnishings to be seen.

I suppose only the worst for the Alpha's bride...

"You are not a guest, so you will not be treated like one," Maven declares, pausing at a lone door at the end of the hallway. "You will dine downstairs, before returning to this apartment, of which you will not leave until morning."

The door creaks as she pushes it open, gesturing me inside.

The main sitting room is sparsely decorated, which pleases me. The furniture looks old, however, with the lounge set and other furnishings still being covered with white sheets.

I wonder who this room belonged to. By the staleness in the air and dust lining almost every surface, it hasn't been occupied for a time.

"Will I be sleeping in Everin's room when we are married?" I ask absently, turning in place to take in the space, noting first the windows. I'm keen to know all escape routes.

At least the view is picturesque. Everin's pack cannot be faulted on its beauty, that's for sure. Despite the rigid cold that is unlike the stifling heat I'm accustomed to back home, the sea is within view. It lingers in the distance, beyond rolling hills. It's dark, tumultuous waves froth a bright, stark white against black sand.

"No, absolutely not. You will remain in this room until he eventually tires and disposes of you," Maven states sourly, pressing open the door to the bedroom, and then to the private bathroom.

At least I have privacy here. I wouldn't have been surprised if I was to live outside beneath the glum clouds.

"You're not a very nice person, Maven," I note, checking out the additional spaces.

The bed is only a single, small cot, which means I'll be called to Everin's room on our wedding night. The window above the headboard reveals the view, which is good because there is nothing else notable about the space.

Maven ignores my disparaging comment. "You may find that you are bored here. That is no one's problem, and you will not make it such. During your days here, you may read books provided to you."

I turn away from her, rolling my eyes beyond her view. "Books? What books?"

Keeping myself entertained hardly matters. I only need to survive a week here.

"An Alpha's wife will be required to be highly educated and well versed in all languages, as well as the history of this pack." She yanks one of the white cloths off the first couch, which is a gruesome tan colour. "Any books supplied to you will be for the purposes of learning."

I pivot to face her. "I know history."

"The correct history. Not whatever crap your father taught you." She waves her hand dismissively.

I shift from foot to foot, restraining my irritation. I expected prejudice, of course, but I'm already being treated as lowly, lesser than. Being the Alpha's daughter only makes me more repulsive in their eyes.

"What else is required of a Luna?" I wander over to the fireplace, running my finger across the dusty mantle.

Maven whirls around, her jaw going slack while she examines me sourly.

"Luna?" Her laugh is cold and bitter. "You think you're going to become the Luna of this pack?"

I blink, confused. "Everin and I are getting married, are we not?"

"In this pack, such a position is only granted to the Alpha's true equal." She stalks closer. "His mate."

Ah. I see. Now I understand why he so flippantly agreed to marry me. He's not concerned about me accessing a lick of his power, making him more willing to gamble.

Not that I care. I didn't come here to become the Luna of this pack, but to kill him.

Back home, marriage is the only union that can be undertaken to entrench power. My mother and father are far from mates, and I was warned growing up that finding my mate wouldn't alter the course of my life, or my duties.

"Oh..." I look away.

"Is that why you were here? To become Luna and attempt to take control this pack?" Maven accuses. She's advanced so closely on me that she practically pins me against the mantle.

Lifting one hand, I place it on her shoulder and shove. Her lithe frame makes it easier to force her back. In fact, she almost stumbles, having to brace herself against the back of the couch.

"First of all, don't get in my face again," I warn. "Second, I'm here on command of my father, an Alpha. Who are either you or I to question the will of Alpha's? Or are you implying your Alpha is deficient for proposing to me?"

She quietens, rubbing her shoulder tenderly. I barely touched her, but I'm willing to do a lot worse if necessary.

"No one believes this peace offering bullshit," she seethes under her breath. "Whatever you're planning, I would advise against it. Everin is incredibly perceptive and will sense your attack long before you do it."

"I don't care." I barge past her, yanking the white cloth off the coffee table to symbolise my intention to remain in this space. "You can't get rid of me."

I would love to see this frail bitch try.

She sneers, but looks away. "We'll see."

I pull a face at her back. Sour, prideful woman. How I'm supposed to survive here with her keeping me in check, I don't know. I'll be inclined to do something violent, when I'm supposed to keep this mission clean and unsullied.

"So will I be dining with my fiancé this evening?" I shove the largest window in the room open, a faint breeze slinking through. It smells like the sea, like the cold.

Maven stands in the middle of the room, her arms folded petulantly. "Yes."

"And if I don't want to?"

She doesn't spare me a glance as the briny breeze toys with escaped strands of her hair. "You gave up any freedom you had when you decided to marry the most powerful Alpha of all time."

I inspect her quietly for a moment. She'd be pretty if she shook off that horrid, repressive look. She has delicate, sweeping features and almond eyes the colour of the sullen clouds outside.

"I didn't decide to do this. This decision was made for me," I grumble, collapsing onto the other couch, the frothy layers of my dress splaying out with dramatic flourish. It still has its sheet on, but beneath, I can make out a floral print that makes my stomach turn.

They could have at least made some of the furniture match.

Maven pauses, opening her mouth to say something cruel, I imagine, but she's cut off. The bedroom door open and two males carrying my luggage stumble inside. I packed it optimistically, so seeing it is a delight.

They set the bags down, offering Maven an affirmative nod before leaving. Maven follows to the door, turning to pin me with a look.

"Don't break the rules," she warns. "Or it will be the Alpha's wrath you're faced with.

With that, she departs, leaving the door ajar.

Gritting my teeth, I bundle up one of the white cloths before launching it at the door. It smacks it ungracefully, mercifully causing the door to snicker shut.

With that, I slump deeper into the stiff clutches of the couch, wishing it would swallow me whole.

+++

The first sensation I note upon waking is that my nose is cold.

I peek one eye open, momentarily confused at my surroundings. Abruptly, I sit up.

I fell asleep on the couch, and it's dark now.

Shadows unspool across the room, making my already unfamiliar surroundings more difficult to navigate. The window I propped open earlier has let in the frigid night air, as well as a beam of moonlight the smudges the floor in cool blue tones.

Stifling a yawn, I crack my neck. How long have a I slept? I don't feel rejuvenated by any means as a cloying haze of fatigue shrouds my mind.

My eyes drift down to the coffee table, where a letter has been left. My eyes narrow upon it.

Has that always been there?

Picking it up, I inspect the writing with strained eyes. It's addressed to me, stating that dinner is imminent downstairs. It offers me no instructions on how to get there, though.

As if on cue, my stomach twists and growls. I haven't eaten in over a day.

Hoisting myself up, I'm quickly reminded of the tired, heavy fabric hanging off my body. Cursing under my breath, I reach behind me and begin tugging the at the lace of my corset until it finally loosens around my ribcage.

Sighing contently, I resist the urge to slump over. Once I've kicked my way out of the dress, I inspect my torso to see deep lines gouged into my skin from the bones of the corset.

I give the dress an insolent kick. Bastard thing.

My gaze floats toward the adjoining bathroom, and the dusty free-stand tub within. I would love to bathe — I haven't since I left home. However, food comes first, and depending on the hour, dinner may no longer be available.

Rifling through my luggage, I toss items of clothing over my shoulder. Each one is light and airy, tailored to my life back home where the sun rarely cowers behind clouds.

My teeth chatter as I manage to find some pants and a fur lined coat. I make quick work of shoving them onto my body, followed by my familiar, old brown boots. I favour them too much to ever replace them.

The hallway outside my room is just as dark, although the windows let in enough moonlight for me to see as I rush to the spiral staircase.

I can't find it in me to be frightened about what may occur at dinner this evening. I'm just so hungry.

I'm met with another hallway at the bottom of the staircase. Looking both ways, I shake off the dizziness from the downward spiral as I determine which direction to head in.

My orientation is muddled, but at least candles lit on polished sconces light the both ways.

I choose to head left, since I'm fairly certain I came from the right when I arrived.

My boots sink into the plush rugs lining the hallway as I walk. I inspect every open doorway, finding only darkness in most places.

I wonder where Everin's wing is. I can't imagine he would allow me to walk freely about if important areas were not guarded. While I am to marry him, I'm still considered an enemy of this pack.

Eventually, I find the dining room, lured by the scent of food.

It's a surprisingly intimate room, with a small chandelier hanging above a lengthy table. As I stalk in, I see Everin sitting at the head of the table, and another male sitting to his left.

They both immediately look up as I enter.

Well fuck.

Everin's stare is blistering. "You're late."

💚••💚

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~Midika 💜🐈‍⬛