The air was heavy with the tang of sweat, fear, and desperation. The small room where Aria stood was dimly lit by a few flickering lanterns. Shadows stretched across the walls, dancing in rhythm with the murmurs of the crowd. She couldn’t see their faces clearly, but their predatory gazes were seared into her mind.

Her wrists were bound with coarse rope that bit into her skin every time she shifted. She stood barefoot on a wooden platform, her heart pounding so loudly that it drowned out the auctioneer’s voice. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be someone’s property.

But here she was, her stepmother’s shrill voice cutting through the crowd like a blade.

“She’s weak,” the woman declared, her tone dripping with disdain. “But she’s obedient.”

Aria flinched at the words. Weak. Obedient. They had branded her with these labels for so long that she almost believed them. Almost.

“She’s seventeen,” her stepfather added, stepping forward with an oily grin. “Still young. She’ll be useful to your pack, Alpha.”

Aria dared to look up then, her gaze locking onto the man seated at the front of the room. Alpha Isaac. The leader of the Shadow Fang pack.

He sat in a high-backed chair, his imposing figure exuding raw power. His broad shoulders were encased in a black leather jacket, and his sharp jawline was set in a hard line. His piercing silver eyes seemed to see straight through her, assessing her with a coldness that made her shiver.

The stories about him flooded her mind. A ruthless leader who ruled his pack with an iron fist. A warrior who had slaughtered entire rival packs to claim his territory. A man who valued strength above all else.

Aria could feel his disdain before he even spoke.

“Obedient?” Isaac repeated, his deep voice filled with mockery. “I don’t need obedient. I need strong.”

Her stepmother bristled but forced a smile. “She may not have her wolf yet, but she’s resilient. She’s a survivor.”

“Is that so?” Isaac’s tone was flat, his gaze unwavering.

“She’s endured more than most,” her stepfather chimed in, his voice dripping with false sincerity. “Give her time, and she’ll prove her worth.”

Isaac leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. His expression didn’t change, but the air in the room grew heavier, charged with his dominant aura.

“Fine,” he said after a long pause. “I’ll take her. But know this—I don’t tolerate failures.”

The words were like a death sentence, and Aria felt her stomach twist into knots. She wanted to scream, to fight, to run, but she knew it would be useless.

A tall man standing behind Isaac stepped forward. His Beta, Aria realized, noting the way the crowd parted for him. Without a word, he handed a small pouch of coins to her stepfather, who snatched it eagerly.

Her stepmother leaned in close, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Good luck, Aria. You’ll need it.”

The Beta grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not cruel, and began leading her toward the exit. Aria stole one last glance at her step-parents. They didn’t look guilty or regretful—only relieved to be rid of her.

The door closed behind her, and for the first time in years, Aria was truly alone.

The ride to the Shadow Fang territory was silent. The Beta—introduced only as Darius—drove the sleek black SUV while Isaac sat in the backseat, his gaze fixed out the window. Aria sat as far away from him as possible, her bound hands resting in her lap.

The forest blurred past them, the moonlight casting eerie shadows on the trees. The silence was suffocating, but Aria didn’t dare speak. She could feel Isaac’s presence like a weight pressing down on her chest, his aura thick with authority and danger.

When they finally arrived, Aria’s breath caught in her throat. The Shadow Fang pack house was enormous, a sprawling mansion surrounded by high walls and watchtowers. The building itself was a mix of modern and rustic, with sleek glass windows and stone walls. It was beautiful and intimidating all at once.

Darius parked the car, and Isaac stepped out without a word. He didn’t spare Aria a glance as he strode toward the front door, his long strides confident and purposeful.

Darius opened her door and gestured for her to follow. “Come on. Don’t keep him waiting.”

Aria stumbled out of the car, her bare feet cold against the stone driveway. She hesitated, but Darius’s sharp look pushed her forward.

Inside, the pack house was just as impressive. The foyer was massive, with high ceilings and a grand staircase that curved upward. The walls were lined with portraits of wolves and landscapes, their golden frames gleaming in the soft light.

Isaac didn’t pause to give her a tour. He walked straight through the foyer and down a hallway, his steps echoing on the hardwood floor. Aria hurried to keep up, her heart racing.

They stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall. Isaac pushed it open, revealing a small, bare room with a single bed, a desk, and a chair.

“This is where you’ll stay,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion.

Aria swallowed hard. The room was small, but it was clean and warm—better than what she was used to.

“You’ll work to earn your keep,” Isaac continued, his gaze cold and unyielding. “The pack doesn’t tolerate freeloaders.”

She nodded silently, her throat too dry to speak.

“Darius will assign you tasks tomorrow,” he said. “For now, stay here. Don’t wander.”

With that, he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

Aria sank onto the bed, her body trembling. The events of the day crashed over her like a wave, leaving her exhausted and numb.

She didn’t cry. She hadn’t cried in years.

Instead, she stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. She didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but she knew one thing for certain.

She would survive.

The first rays of dawn crept through the small, barred window of Aria’s room, casting long shadows on the bare walls. She sat up on the stiff mattress, her body aching from the rough handling of the night before. Her wrists were raw from the ropes, though someone had at least removed them after she’d been locked away.

This was her life now—a prisoner in a pack where she didn’t belong.

The sound of a knock startled her. Before she could respond, the door creaked open, and Darius stepped inside. His towering figure filled the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning the room.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Alpha doesn’t tolerate laziness.”

Aria swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet brushing against the cold floor. She moved stiffly, her limbs heavy with exhaustion.

Darius handed her a plain, gray tunic and a pair of boots that looked a size too big. “Put these on. Your duties start now.”

She hesitated, glancing at him for a moment before taking the clothes. He didn’t leave the room, making it clear she wouldn’t be granted privacy. Turning her back to him, she quickly slipped into the tunic, its coarse fabric scratching her skin.

“Follow me,” he commanded once she was dressed.

Aria obeyed, her steps quiet as she trailed behind him through the labyrinthine hallways of the pack house. The grandeur of the building struck her again—the polished wooden floors, the ornate chandeliers, the paintings that seemed to watch her every move.

They passed a few pack members along the way, their conversations ceasing as their eyes landed on her. Some stared with curiosity, others with open disdain. She kept her gaze fixed on the floor, her cheeks burning.

Darius led her to the kitchen, a bustling space filled with the clatter of pots and the aroma of cooking meat. A middle-aged woman with graying hair and a stern expression turned to greet them.

“This is Greta,” Darius said, gesturing toward the woman. “She’s in charge of the kitchen staff. You’ll be working under her for now.”

Greta’s sharp eyes appraised Aria, her lips pressing into a thin line. “She looks like she’ll break in half,” the woman muttered.

“She’ll manage,” Darius replied curtly before turning to leave. “Do as she says, and don’t cause trouble.”

As soon as he was gone, Greta snapped her fingers, motioning for Aria to come closer. “Well, don’t just stand there. We’ve got mouths to feed.”

The hours dragged on as Greta barked orders, assigning Aria the most menial tasks—peeling potatoes, scrubbing pots, sweeping the floor. Her hands ached, her back throbbed, but she worked without complaint. She couldn’t afford to draw attention to herself, not here.

By midday, her tunic was soaked with sweat, her arms streaked with grime. The other kitchen staff avoided her, whispering amongst themselves whenever she passed. She caught fragments of their conversations.

“Did you hear? She doesn’t even have a wolf.”

“She won’t last a week.”

“Why would Alpha Isaac even take her in?”

Their words stung, but Aria kept her head down. She had learned long ago that reacting only made things worse.

Just as she finished cleaning another stack of dishes, a young man with sandy blonde hair burst into the kitchen. His energy was infectious, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Greta!” he called. “Got any of those pastries left?”

“Jamie, you glutton,” Greta scolded, but there was no real malice in her tone. She pulled a tray of pastries from the counter and handed him one.

Jamie’s eyes landed on Aria, his grin faltering. “Who’s this?”

Greta waved a dismissive hand. “The new girl. Don’t bother her.”

“New girl, huh?” Jamie leaned against the counter, studying her. “What’s your name?”

“Aria,” she mumbled, keeping her gaze fixed on the floor.

“Aria,” he repeated, his tone light. “Well, welcome to the Shadow Fang pack. Hope Greta doesn’t work you to death.”

“Get out of here, Jamie,” Greta snapped, though there was a hint of a smile on her face.

Jamie chuckled and left the kitchen, leaving Aria to wonder if everyone in the pack was as intimidating as Isaac—or if there were exceptions like him.

By the time her shift ended, Aria was too exhausted to do anything but collapse onto her bed. Her muscles screamed in protest, and her hands were red and raw.

She lay staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing. The pack house was a fortress, and escaping seemed impossible. Even if she could slip past the guards and patrols, where would she go? The world outside was just as cruel as the one she had left behind.

Her mind wandered to Isaac. She hadn’t seen him since the previous night, but his presence lingered like a shadow over the entire pack. She didn’t understand why he had agreed to take her. He clearly didn’t want her here.

A sharp knock at her door startled her out of her thoughts.

“Get up,” came Darius’s voice. “The Alpha wants to see you.”

Her stomach twisted into knots. She rose from the bed, smoothing down her rumpled tunic before opening the door. Darius stood there, his expression unreadable.

He led her to Isaac’s office, a large room lined with bookshelves and dominated by a massive wooden desk. Isaac sat behind it, his piercing eyes locking onto hers the moment she entered.

“Sit,” he commanded, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

Aria obeyed, her hands trembling in her lap.

“You’ll be working in the kitchen for now,” Isaac said, his tone cold and clipped. “But that doesn’t mean you’re free to do as you please. You’re a guest in this pack—barely. Step out of line, and you’ll regret it.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Aria hesitated, her mind racing for an answer. Finally, she mustered the courage to speak. “Why did you take me in?”

For a moment, something flickered in Isaac’s eyes—something unreadable. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“That’s none of your concern,” he said sharply. “Just remember your place.”

Dismissed, she rose to leave, but his voice stopped her at the door.

“Survive, Aria,” he said, his tone softer but no less commanding. “That’s the only advice I’ll give you.”

She didn’t respond, closing the door behind her as she stepped into the hallway.

Survive.

It was the same word her step-parents had used to justify selling her. But this time, it wasn’t a curse—it was a challenge.

And she intended to rise to it.

Aria’s first night in the Shadow Fang pack house passed restlessly. The bed was far better than anything she’d known before, but sleep eluded her. Isaac’s parting words—“Survive”—echoed in her mind like a mantra. The weight of her situation pressed down on her chest, but she was determined to endure.

When dawn arrived, Darius appeared at her door again, his stern face as unreadable as always. “You’ll assist in the main hall today. The Alpha has a meeting with the pack leaders. Don’t speak unless spoken to. Do your job and leave when dismissed.”

Aria only nodded, not trusting her voice.

The main hall was even more intimidating than the rest of the pack house. It was grand, with high ceilings and tall windows that let in streams of golden sunlight. A long, polished table stretched across the center, surrounded by ornate chairs.

“Set the table,” Greta instructed, appearing beside her with a stack of plates. “Don’t break anything, or the Alpha will have your head.”

Aria got to work, carefully placing the plates, cutlery, and glasses. She moved quietly, her hands steady despite the nervous energy coursing through her. She couldn’t afford to mess up, not in front of Isaac and the other pack leaders.

As the pack members began to file in, Aria shrank back into the shadows, keeping her head down. They were an intimidating group, their power evident in the way they carried themselves.

At the head of the table sat Isaac, his piercing silver eyes scanning the room with an authority that silenced all conversations. To his right was Darius, his Beta, whose calm demeanor belied the strength Aria knew he possessed. On Isaac’s left was another man, slightly younger but no less imposing. He had fiery red hair and a sharp gaze that seemed to notice everything.

“That’s Gamma Rylan,” Greta whispered as she passed Aria. “The Alpha’s third in command. Watch out for him—he’s sharp.”

Aria nodded, storing the information away.

The meeting began with a report from Rylan, his voice confident and direct. He spoke of patrols, rogue sightings, and border skirmishes. Aria didn’t understand all the details, but it was clear the Shadow Fang pack was constantly defending its territory.

As the discussion grew more heated, Aria’s attention was drawn to the pack members seated further down the table. They whispered amongst themselves, throwing occasional glances her way.

“Why is she here?” one of them murmured.

“I heard she doesn’t even have a wolf,” another replied, his tone dripping with disdain.

“She won’t last a week.”

Aria’s cheeks burned, but she kept her eyes on the floor, pretending not to hear.

“Enough,” Isaac’s voice cut through the room like a blade, silencing everyone. His gaze flickered to the end of the table, where the whispers had originated. “If you have something to say, say it to me.”

The room fell deathly quiet, the tension palpable. Isaac’s authority was absolute, and no one dared challenge him.

When the meeting finally ended, the pack members filed out, some throwing lingering glances at Aria. She remained in the shadows, waiting for Greta’s instructions.

Isaac stayed behind, seated at the head of the table. He was studying a map spread out before him, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Aria,” he said suddenly, his voice startling her.

She froze, unsure if she had heard correctly.

“Step forward,” he ordered, not looking up from the map.

Her feet moved before her mind caught up. She approached the table cautiously, her heart pounding.

Isaac’s silver eyes met hers, their intensity unnerving. “You heard the whispers, didn’t you?”

She nodded hesitantly.

“And what do you think of them?”

Aria hesitated, searching for the right words. “I… I don’t belong here,” she admitted softly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

His lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “You’re right. You don’t. But you’re here now, and I won’t tolerate weakness in my pack.”

“I’m not weak,” she said, surprising herself with the firmness of her tone.

Isaac raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “We’ll see about that.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixed on her. “Darius will arrange for you to begin training tomorrow. If you want to survive, you’ll need to prove yourself.”

Aria’s stomach twisted in equal parts fear and determination. She nodded, knowing this was her only chance to change the way the pack saw her.

“Dismissed,” Isaac said, turning his attention back to the map.

The next morning, Aria found herself on the training grounds, her breath visible in the crisp morning air. The area was vast, with sections designated for hand-to-hand combat, weapons training, and agility drills. Warriors moved with precision and grace, their power evident in every strike and movement.

Darius stood at the edge of the field, his arms crossed as he watched her approach.

“You’ll start with the basics,” he said. “You’ll run laps, do push-ups, and learn to defend yourself. Don’t expect anyone to go easy on you.”

Aria nodded, her jaw set in determination. She wasn’t here to make friends or seek pity. She was here to survive.

Her first task was a grueling set of laps around the training grounds. The cold air burned her lungs, and her legs felt like lead after just a few minutes. But she didn’t stop. She pushed herself forward, her mind focused on Isaac’s words: I won’t tolerate weakness.

By the time she finished, her body was trembling with exhaustion. Darius handed her a water bottle, his expression unreadable.

“Not bad for your first day,” he said. “But don’t get cocky. This is just the beginning.”

The rest of the morning was a blur of drills and exercises. Aria’s muscles screamed in protest, but she refused to give up. She mimicked the warriors’ movements as best she could, her determination growing with every mistake she made.

When the session finally ended, Aria collapsed onto the grass, her chest heaving. Darius crouched beside her, his sharp eyes studying her.

“You’ve got a long way to go,” he said. “But there’s potential.”

Aria looked up at him, surprise flickering across her face. It was the closest thing to praise she had received in years.

“Get some rest,” he added. “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

As the days turned into weeks, Aria’s routine became a grueling cycle of kitchen work and training. The pack continued to treat her with disdain, but she noticed a subtle shift. The whispers became less frequent, and some of the warriors even began nodding at her in acknowledgment.

She was far from being accepted, but she was no longer completely invisible.

Isaac remained a distant figure, his interactions with her brief and formal. Yet, Aria couldn’t shake the feeling that he was watching her, silently judging her progress.

One evening, as she returned to her room, she caught sight of him on the training grounds. He was sparring with Darius, his movements a blur of speed and precision. His wolf-like reflexes were mesmerizing, a reminder of the power that lay beneath his cold exterior.

For the first time, Aria felt a spark of something she couldn’t quite name—admiration, perhaps, or the faintest glimmer of hope.

She didn’t know what the future held, but one thing was certain: she would fight for her place in this pack.