Chapter 2 The Bond and the Blade

Ravyn's POV

My mate had just rejected me.

It felt like my heart had been cleaved open. Not broken, shattered. As if every rib in my chest had splintered, the fragments carving grief into my soul.

My wolf howled, a raw and guttural sound inside me. She had only just awakened, barely connected to me, and now she was crumbling. The pain of rejection was more than either of us could endure.

I fell to my knees. Breathing hurt. Moving hurt. Hope hurt.

I wanted to run, to disappear into the forest, to vanish from this pack, this torment, this life. But my wolf wouldn't rise. I called to her. Begged her. But the link was weak, fading. I felt nothing but an echo, as if she were trapped far away.

Powerless.

Broken.

That's what I had become.

So when Kimberly came into the room and said, almost gleefully, that I would still be marrying Darius Blackthorn in Seraphina's place, I didn't argue. I didn't scream. I didn't cry.

Because anything was better than staying in the Ashridge home.

Darius Blackthorn. The dying Alpha. No ceremony. No guests. No celebration. Just a transaction.

They dressed me like a doll. Pale skin powdered. Eyes painted. Lips stained. I stared at my reflection in the mirror and didn't recognize the girl in the white gown.

That was when Seraphina walked in, her heels clicking arrogantly on the marble floor.

"Well, well," she purred. "You should be thanking me. Without me stepping aside, a stray like you would never touch a bloodline like Blackthorn."

She twirled a lock of her golden hair around one finger. "Oh, and Lucien proposed to me last night. We're having the grandest wedding our pack has ever seen."

My chest ached. Lucien. My mate. The one who had rejected me without flinching.

He was marrying her.

"He said I'm his everything. That he's never loved anyone like he loves me," she added, watching me closely. "Isn't that sweet?"

My throat tightened. "Please leave."

Seraphina scoffed. "This is my house. My room. You don't belong here, you never did. Not even your real parents wanted you. You're nothing but a mistake."

I wanted to scream. To slap her. But what would it change?

I still had no wolf. No protection. No power.

So I did what I'd always done. I stayed silent.

A servant entered. "Lady Ravyn, the carriage has arrived."

Seraphina's eyes lit up. "That must be Lucien's surprise! He sent me a royal escort?"

She stepped forward, but the crowd of servants parted as a woman emerged. Tall, sharp-featured, draped in understated elegance. She wore no crown, but power clung to her like armor.

Without a word, she shoved Seraphina aside.

"What the hell, do you know who I am?" Seraphina shrieked.

Kimberly rushed in, horror-stricken. "Seraphina! That's Duchess Elara Blackthorn. Apologize. Now."

Seraphina paled instantly. "I-I'm sorry, Duchess Elara-"

The duchess didn't blink. "Your apology belongs to Ravyn. She's the one you insulted."

Seraphina faltered. "I'm... sorry, Ravyn."

Elara gave a cold smile. "If apologies could heal wounds, we wouldn't need discipline." She turned to the guards. "Escort the brat outside. Teach her what respect means."

Kimberly dropped to her knees. "Please! Have mercy. She's still young. She didn't mean it!"

Her cries echoed unanswered.

I stood motionless as Seraphina's screams echoed from the courtyard:

"Lucien! Help me!"

"No! Stop! Please, stop!"

"I'm sorry! I'll behave! I swear!"

And for the first time in my life, I felt no pity.

When the punishment ended, Kimberly returned, trying to pretend nothing had happened. She handed me a wrapped gift box, her smile strained.

"My precious girl... I know things have been difficult. Let's move forward. I got this just for you."

I stared at her, barely hearing the words. The insignia on the guards' lapels glinted in the light.

Blackthorn.

This wasn't just any noble family. Darius was royalty. And now I was his wife.

My status had changed. They all knew it.

But so had the stakes. Rumors said Darius had little time left.

Until I found a way to escape, he needed to live.

We arrived at the Blackthorn estate, a palace hidden in a veil of shadow and silence. Every corner felt guarded. Sacred. Heavy.

Duchess Elara turned to me, voice hard as stone. "Listen closely. Darius is my nephew. If he falls ill, if he's hurt, if he so much as sneezes and I suspect you're the reason, I will personally rip you apart."

"I understand," I said quietly. "I'll take care of him."

She nodded once and vanished into the halls.

A servant handed me a sheet of instructions, her voice brisk. "You are now responsible for Master Darius's care. These tasks are your duty. Don't interfere with the household unless absolutely necessary."

I looked down at the paper. Daily duties. Medicines. Bandages. Food preparation. Personal hygiene.

"Tonight, you'll begin with bathing him and changing his dressings," she said. "Don't fail."

The air around her crackled with contempt.

Who dared speak of an Alpha like that? My curiosity burned, but I held my tongue.

She pointed toward a corridor. "He'll be expecting you."

I walked through the grand hallway. Gold and crimson tapestries. Oil paintings of long-dead Alphas. The scent of old roses and parchment.

The room she led me to was massive, gilded, pristine, and utterly still.

But empty.

No Darius.

I glanced at the instruction sheet. The first task remained: Bathe him. Change his dressings.

Hours passed. No one came.

Finally, exhausted, I bathed alone, changed into the soft nightclothes provided, and crawled into the massive bed.

The sheets cradled me like clouds. My eyes shut before I could think.

Then...

The dream.

I was back in the moldy shed behind the Ashridge house. A snake curled around my ankle, cold and slick. Its tongue flicked, sliding higher. It lifted the hem of my nightgown...

My eyes flew open.

It wasn't a dream.

Someone was touching me.

I shot upright with a cry.

And there he stood.

A man.

Tall. Dressed in black. Silver eyes like blades. Cold. Observing. Burning.

And behind those eyes was something feral.

Something hungry.