Chapter 6 006

Chapter 6

The horses are massive. Dark and sleek, with eyes that seem too intelligent. Alpha Drogo's men are already mounted, waiting. There are about ten of them, all watching me with blank expressions.

I've never been good with horses. Never had reason to learn.

Alpha Drogo swings onto his horse easily, then looks down at me. "You'll ride with me."

Before I can respond, he reaches down and pulls me up like I weigh nothing. I land in front of him with a gasp, his arm coming around my waist to steady me.

"Hold on," he says.

Then we're moving.

I grab onto his arm, my heart racing. The horse moves fast, too fast. Trees blur past us. Wind whips my hair back.

I've never left my father's territory before. Never been beyond the borders. Everything is new and terrifying.

We ride for hours. Nobody speaks. The only sounds are hoofbeats and breathing.

My body aches from the position, from being held against Alpha Drogo's chest. I can feel every breath he takes, feel the steady beat of his heart against my back.

He's warm. Solid. Not at all like the monster from the stories.

But that doesn't mean he's safe.

The sun is starting to set when we finally slow down. We've entered a thick forest, darker than any I've seen. The trees here are older, bigger. They block out most of the remaining light.

"We're close," one of the men says.

Close to what? His pack? His home?

The forest opens up suddenly, and I see it.

A massive structure built into the side of a mountain. It's part fortress, part mansion, with stone walls and dark windows. It looks old. Ancient, even. Like it's been here forever.

"Welcome to Shadow Peak," Alpha Drogo says near my ear.

Shadow Peak. The name fits.

We ride through tall gates that groan as they open. Guards stand on either side, bowing their heads as we pass. Inside is a courtyard, already lit with torches against the growing darkness.

People come out to greet us. Servants, guards, others. They all bow to Alpha Drogo, but their eyes keep flicking to me. Curious. Suspicious.

Alpha Drogo dismounts and pulls me down after him. My legs are shaky from the ride.

An older man approaches. He's tall, grey-haired, with a scar running down the side of his face.

"Alpha. Welcome back." His eyes shift to me. "And this is the bride?"

"This is Aria. My wife." Alpha Drogo's hand is still on my waist. "Aria, this is Marcus. He runs things here when I'm gone."

"Ma'am." Marcus bows slightly, but I can see the doubt in his eyes. He's wondering what's so special about me. Why his Alpha would marry someone like me.

I don't blame him. I'm wondering the same thing.

"Get her things to my chambers," Alpha Drogo says.

"I don't have things," I say quietly.

Everyone looks at me.

"I didn't bring anything. There wasn't time."

Alpha Drogo's jaw tightens. "Then get her new things. Everything she needs. Clothes, personal items, whatever."

"Yes, Alpha." Marcus nods.

"Come." Alpha Drogo starts walking toward the main entrance.

I follow because I don't know what else to do.

Inside, the fortress is surprisingly warm. Torches line the walls, casting dancing shadows. The floors are stone, the ceilings high. Everything about this place feels old and powerful.

We climb a set of stairs, then another. My legs burn but I don't complain.

Finally, we stop in front of a large wooden door. Alpha Drogo pushes it open.

The room inside is huge. A massive bed dominates one side, covered in dark furs. There's a fireplace already burning, bookshelves lining the walls, a seating area near tall windows.

"This is your room?" I ask.

"Our room."

My stomach flips. Of course. We're married. We'd share a room. Share a bed.

I hadn't let myself think about that part.

Alpha Drogo closes the door behind us, and suddenly the room feels much smaller.

"You're afraid," he says. It's not a question.

"Wouldn't you be?"

He considers that. "Probably."

He walks to a cabinet and pours himself a drink. Doesn't offer me one.

"The servant told me something last night," I say. Might as well get this over with. "About you."

"What did she tell you?"

"That you killed your first wife. That everyone close to you dies."

His hand stops halfway to his mouth. He sets the glass down slowly.

"And you believed her?"

"I don't know what to believe. I don't know you."

"No. You don't." He turns to face me fully. "But you married me anyway."

"I didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice." He moves closer. "You could have run. Could have fought. Could have refused."

"And my mother would have died."

"Maybe. Maybe not." He stops in front of me. "You want to know if I killed my first wife?"

My mouth goes dry. "Did you?"

"No."

Just one word. Simple. Direct.

"But she did die," he continues. "Three years ago. Fever took her. I couldn't save her." Something flashes in his eyes. Pain, maybe. "Her name was Elena. She was good. Kind. Everything I wasn't."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. She knew what she was getting into when she married me." He picks up his drink again. "The curse is real, Aria. Everyone who gets close to me suffers for it. Elena did. Others have too."

"Then why marry again? Why marry me?"

"Because I need an heir. Because alliances matter. Because your father offered and I accepted." He takes a drink. "Pick whichever reason you like best."

None of them are good.

"What happens now?" I ask.

"Now you live here. You're the Alpha's wife. You'll have responsibilities."

"What kind of responsibilities?"

"We'll figure that out." He sets his glass down. "First, you need to eat. You didn't touch the food last night."

"How did you know that?"

"I know everything that happens in my territory." He moves toward the door. "I'll have food sent up. Eat it this time."

"Where are you going?"

"I have work to do. Don't wait up."

He leaves before I can say anything else.

I stand there in the middle of his—our—room, completely lost.

This is my life now. This fortress. This pack. This man.

A knock at the door makes me jump.

"Come in," I call.

A young woman enters carrying a tray of food. She sets it on the table near the fireplace.

"Alpha Drogo said you didn't eat last night," she says. "He told me to make sure you eat this time."

"Thank you."

She hesitates. "Can I ask you something?"

"I guess."

"Is it true? That you were born under a red moon?"

I tense. "Yes."

"And you have no wolf?"

"Yes."

She nods slowly. "That's what they're saying. The pack. They're confused why the Alpha would marry someone without a wolf. Someone cursed."

"I'm confused too," I admit.

That makes her smile a little. "I'm Sara. I've been assigned to help you. If you need anything, just ask."

"Thank you, Sara."

She bows and leaves.

I look at the food. Roasted meat, fresh bread, vegetables. It smells good. My stomach growls.

I eat because I'm starving. Because I need strength for whatever comes next.

When I'm done, I explore the room. There's a door that leads to a bathing room with an actual tub. Another door leads to a dressing room, currently empty.

I return to the main room and stand by the windows. From here, I can see the forest stretching out below, dark and endless.

Somewhere out there is my father's pack. My mother.

I wonder if she's okay. If they're actually treating her better like Alpha Drogo ordered.

I wonder why he cares.

Hours pass. The fire burns low. I add more wood, trying to keep warm.

Alpha Drogo doesn't come back.

I pace the room, then sit, then pace again. Finally, exhaustion wins. I curl up in a chair near the fire, pulling a fur over myself.

I don't want to sleep in his bed. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

But sleep comes anyway, dragging me under.

I dream of red moons and shadows. Of green eyes watching me from the dark. Of a curse that has no cure.

When I wake up, there's a blanket over me that wasn't there before.

Alpha Drogo is asleep in the bed, still fully clothed on top of the furs.

He came back. Saw me in the chair. Covered me with a blanket.

Then left me alone.

I don't understand him.

Don't understand any of this.

But I'm starting to think the monster in the stories isn't the man I married.

The real monster might be something else entirely.