Delivered to the Alpha

Offe

of day, and their gazes, impassive, betrayed an implacable determination. The icy wind stirred up plumes of dust around her, as if fate itself wanted to mask the horror of the moment. "Don't scream," one of them ordered

eminding the young woman of her condition as a captive. Their faces, masked by scars and ancestral tattoos, left no room for pity. A heavy heaviness settled in

s. A heavy silence reigned there, interrupted only by the steady sound of her forced footsteps. At the end of the room, on a throne carved in stone, stood Ravenn, the Alpha. His impo

ng. She barely dared raise her eyes to look at him, so paralyzed was the mixture of fear and inner defiance. "You are mine," he added in a tone both hard and solemn, his pierci

e heard, like a forgotten incantation still alive in the veins of the castle. The atmosphere took on an oppressive mysticism, where each stone seemed imbued with the memor

itual, your soul is bound to that of the Alpha, so that you can never escape the destiny that is reserved for you." Elyara tried to protest, her eye

authority. "Fate is not to be fought," he whispered, almost unexpectedly gentle, "and you will learn to accept it, even if it is not

ircle, and the air took on an almost palpable tension. Hands shaking, Elyara was forced to stand in the center of the circle, her eyes fixed on t

e a condemnation. With a theatrical gesture, Ravenn grabbed Elyara's hand, and their fingers brushed in icy contact. The you

were conspiring to make this moment indelible. Ravenn, his face impassive, continued in a low but terribly authoritarian voice: "From this moment on, you will be nothing more th

d her protests. The priest, with the solemnity of a supreme judge, incised a mark on Elyara's wrist, an ancient symbol etched in blood ink. This symbolic gesture seale

capable sentence. The entire room seemed to close in around them, the murmur of the guests turning into a chorus of silent judgments. Elyara felt

of a man at war with himself, a being shaped by brutality and ancestral traditions. "You will understand, one day," he said in a softer voice, almo

mbly, and in an emotional silence, everyone seemed to realize the magnitude of the destiny that had just been sealed. Elyara, despite the pain and fear, straightened slightly, her eyes shi

s moments before. A shiver ran through the room, as if the very stone of the castle remembered ancient oaths and intertwined destinies. The warri

l. Elyara, though terrified, felt a spark of rebellion rise within her. She understood that, despite the invisible chain that had just chained her to Ravenn, there was still a par

ven in pain," he murmured, as if trying to carve out a justification for this union imposed by the law of blood and tradition. But his words, far from soothing Elyar

all, heavy with meaning and broken promises. Elyara, her eyes misted with tears she refused to shed, stood silently before the Alpha, ready to face the future with a determination sh

ace to face, bound by an ancient and merciless pact, the beginning of a story whose pages, already tinged with pain and passion, promised inevitable tum