"Did you hear? They're sending her to that cursed pack?"
"I heard the last girl who married into that pack went missing. And now it's her turn?"
"Marrying her off to them? That's not a wedding, that's a death sentence."
"We all knew it would end like this. A girl like that, with a father like him? There's no happy ending in that story."
Even with the door shut, the gossip bled through—every word sharper than the last. Rielle sat frozen on the edge of her bed, fists clenched around the worn hem of her dress. She let out a slow breath through her nose, trying to steady herself… but the little shake in it gave her away.
Thanks to the maids and their nonstop gossiping, the quiet anxiety in her chest had twisted into full-on dread. They talked as if she were already dead. As if the Bloodfang Pack was the reaper and she, just another unfortunate soul sent to fill a grave.
She could still hear them down the hall, the laughter, the pity, the mockery. Rumors swirled around the Bloodfang Alphas like a dark mist—stories of torn brides, missing women, of ceremonies that turned to funerals.
And now it was her turn.
She looked around her tiny room, the only space she could ever call hers. The wallpaper peeled in the corners. A cracked mirror leaned against one wall. Her mattress, thin and uneven, was barely better than the floor. Still, it had been her safe place. Her sanctuary from the fists and snarls.
Every inch of the house outside this room held pain. Her father's silence. Lariette's slaps. Myra's constant mockery. Andros' disgusting stare.
There weren't any sweet memories to hold onto. Her father had taken her in after her mother died—but not out of affection. It was out of duty, maybe guilt. They'd never even been married.
She never got the full story, only bits and pieces spoken in hushed tones or spat in arguments. What she did know was that he didn't ask for her. And once her mother was gone, he barely looked at her.
Then came Lariette. She moved into the house with a child clinging to her hip—Andros, who grew up watching his mother's bitterness twist into something worse.
And then, as if the universe hadn't punished her enough, Lariette gave birth to Myra. Pretty, cruel Myra, who took after her mother in all the worst ways.
A sharp knock pulled her out of thought. She stood, smoothing down the faded fabric of her dress before opening the door.
Beta Finn stood in the hallway, stiff as ever. "It's time," he said.
Rielle nodded, grabbing the tiny bag beside her bed. It barely weighed anything. She hadn't packed light on purpose. It was just... she didn't have much to begin with. Everything she owned fit into that bag, and still there was room left.
She said nothing as she followed him through the narrow hallways of the house she had never belonged in. The silence stretched between them until they stopped before the Alpha's study. Beta Finn knocked once before he let himself in.
"Alpha Harold, she's ready to depart," he announced.
Her father didn't even glance up from his papers. "Don't try anything stupid," he said flatly. "Don't make me regret spending money to raise you. Do what you're told when you get there."
"Ye- yes, Father," Rielle whispered, her voice so low it barely registered. She didn't expect a goodbye, and she didn't get one. The door shut behind her, and the study, like everything else in this house, turned its back on her one last time.
Rielle stood at the front steps of the estate, her small bag clutched tightly in her hand. Outside, a black car waited at the curb, engine already running. The driver didn't even glance her way, eyes locked straight ahead like she was invisible.
She turned one last time to look at the house—the prison that had raised her. There were no goodbyes. No hands to wave. No soft eyes to miss her.
Only silence.
"Wow," a voice drawled from behind her. "Big day for you, huh?"
Rielle turned when she heard a familiar voice behind her. Myra leaned against the doorway, all smug in her silk dress and pearls, smiling like she'd just won a prize.
"Is that what you're wearing to meet your new Alpha? Bold choice. I didn't know rags were in season."
Rielle stared at her for a beat. "I would've picked something better, but unfortunately, your taste is all I had to choose from."
Myra's smile faltered. Her eyes narrowed. Clearly, she hadn't expected a response.
Rielle tilted her head slightly. This might be the last time they ever saw each other. Maybe it was worth saying something.
"Oh, so brave now?" Myra mocked, recovering. "Well, keep your mouth shut over there, Rielle. I heard the Alphas of Bloodfang don't like yappy girls. Especially ones that talk back."
"Good," Rielle said quietly. "Monsters don't scare me anymore. Not after living under the same roof as you."
Myra's hand twitched. Her face darkened.
She stepped forward, arm raised—
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Beta Finn said, stepping forward.
Myra froze. She lowered her hand slowly, huffing.
"You're going to regret that mouth," she hissed before turning sharply and stomping back into the house.
Rielle sighed, her shoulders slumping. She got in the car without another word.
As the car pulled away from the estate, Rielle turned to look out the window one last time.
Andros stood on the second-floor balcony, staring down at her with unreadable eyes.
She turned away quickly, shivering.
She hoped she'd never have to see him again.
Hours slipped by as the car sped down the long stretch of road. The bright sun hung high above, but it offered little comfort. Trees lined both sides of the narrow path, tall and ancient, their branches stretching overhead like skeletal arms trying to close her in.
At first, the drive had felt somewhat normal, but gradually, the scenery began to change. The forest thickened, swallowing the light inch by inch.
Finally, the car slowed.
Rielle blinked, sitting up a little. "W-we're already here?"
The driver didn't turn to face her. "This is as far as I go."
She blinked. "W-what? Why?"
"The Bloodfangs don't like outsiders. Tight borders. I was told someone would meet you at the edge. Just walk ahead. It's not far."
Rielle stared out the window. Trees. The road ahead dipped into a foggy path that disappeared into the woods.
Rielle clutched the strap of her bag, her brows knitting together as she leaned forward slightly. "C-can't you just take me a bit further in? Just to the gate, maybe? What if no one's actually waiting?"
The driver let out a sharp exhale through his nose, still not looking at her.
"I already told you—this is as far as I go."
She hesitated. "But what if—"
That was when he snapped.
"Are you deaf or just slow?" His voice was loud and sudden, sharp enough to make her flinch. He turned halfway in his seat now, his glare cutting through her. "I said get out. The Bloodfangs don't like strangers crawling into their territory, and I've got five more stops today—not just your precious little drop-off."
She sank back, startled, her hands curling around the bag in her lap.
For a moment, Rielle sat there frozen, staring at the mist-draped woods beyond the windshield. Her heart pounded in her ears.
But there was no point arguing.
"O-okay," she whispered, opening the door.
Her shoes crunched against gravel as she stepped out. The door slammed shut behind her.
"Good luck," the driver muttered before rolling up the car window, and then the car turned and rolled away, back down the road from where they came.
She stood still for a moment, clutching her bag, watching the car vanish.
Alone.
In the woods.
And somewhere out there, her future waited.
Or her end.