Chapter 6 — Aria: The Quiet Storm
The morning after her wedding felt nothing like a beginning. Aria woke before the sun, sitting upright in the vast, unfamiliar bed that felt more like a ceremonial display than a place to rest. The sheets were smooth and untouched beside her. The Alpha had not come to her chambers—not even to acknowledge the marriage, not even for formality.
A strange relief blended with humiliation in her chest.
She rose silently, her bare feet cold against the stone floor. The fortress was different from her own kingdom—sterner, darker, thicker with unspoken rules. Here, no one rushed to greet her with fake smiles or stiff bows. Here, she was simply… ignored.
Aria wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and walked toward the tall balcony doors, opening them just enough to let the chill breeze wash over her face. Below, the Alpha's warriors trained in the courtyard, shouting commands and clashing weapons. Their discipline was intimidating. Their loyalty to him was absolute.
And she—his new Luna—was nothing more than a political thread in a tapestry she did not understand.
A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Princess—" The maid corrected herself quickly. "My Lady. Breakfast is prepared in the eastern hall. The Alpha wishes for you to eat."
Aria blinked. "He wishes for me? Or he demands it?"
The maid lowered her head. "My Lady… I only deliver the message."
Of course.
Aria forced a small smile. "Thank you. I'll go."
She walked the long corridors slowly, memorizing every turn. The fortress was a maze of heavy doors and stone pillars, each hallway colder than the last. She wondered if she would ever learn the rhythm of this place, ever find a corner of it that felt like hers.
When she entered the dining hall, she stopped short.
The Alpha sat at the far end of the long table, surrounded by high-ranking warriors. He didn't look up. He didn't greet her. His attention was fixed on a scroll he was reading, one hand tapping the table impatiently.
Aria swallowed hard and took the seat offered to her, several chairs away—too far to speak, too close to leave unnoticed.
The silence was suffocating.
She lifted her fork with steady hands, trying to ignore how her stomach twisted. Her eyes wandered toward him shyly, studying the angle of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders. He looked carved from iron.
Beside him, two warriors whispered to each other, glancing in her direction. Not cruelly—not mockingly—just with curiosity, as if observing a puzzle they had no instructions for.
As if she did not belong.
Finally, the Alpha spoke—still without looking at her.
"After breakfast, meet me in the council chamber."
Aria froze mid-bite. His voice was deep, cold, and sharp. A command disguised as a suggestion.
"Yes, My Lord," she answered softly.
He gave no sign of hearing her
Aria stepped quietly into the council chamber, the heavy door shutting behind her with a soft thud. The Alpha stood over a long table, shadows from the torches cutting sharp lines across his face. Maps, scrolls, and carved markers lay scattered before him—evidence of a mind always at war.
"You asked for me," she said gently.
For a moment, he didn't respond. Then his eyes lifted, cool and unreadable.
"You will be given duties," he said. "You are Luna now. The people expect to see you at ceremonies and gatherings. You will stand beside me when required. Silent. Observant."
Aria clasped her hands. "And… what do you require of me?"
His expression didn't soften. "Nothing beyond obedience. This marriage exists for political stability, not companionship."
The words stung, but Aria nodded, swallowing the pain.
"Yes, My Lord."
He looked away. "You should take time to learn the fortress. The inner gates, the courtyards, the hall layouts. You are not permitted beyond them without escort."
Her brows lifted slightly. "Not permitted? Why?"
His voice dropped low. "Because it's not safe."
Aria stared at him. "Not safe from what?"
He paused—just long enough to make her uneasy. Then:
"Everything."
A chill slid down her spine. "Everything? That's not… that's not an answer."
"It's the only one you need," he replied.
"No." Her voice trembled, but she held her ground. "I'm in the fortress of the Alpha, surrounded by your warriors. You act as though danger is everywhere. But how? What exactly am I supposed to be afraid of?"
His jaw tensed. He set down the carved marker he'd been holding.
"You are human," he said simply. "And humans underestimate what lurks outside walls."
"I know about werewolves," she said. "I've lived beside your borders my entire life. I know the stories."
"You know the children's stories," he corrected. "The ones softened to avoid nightmares. You know nothing of the Wild Packs. Or rogues. Or the creatures that stalk the forests at night."
Aria's breath caught. "Creatures?"
His gaze locked onto hers—cold, unblinking.
"You think werewolves are the only predators in this land?" His eyes flicked briefly to the window. "There are things that hunt soundlessly. Things that don't fear my warriors. Things that would rip through human flesh as if it were parchment."
Aria felt her stomach tighten. "Then why bring me here? Why bring any human? Why marry me at all if it puts me in danger?"
"Because within these walls, you are safer than outside them," he said. "But only if you obey."
She stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "Am I a wife to you… or a responsibility to guard?"
He didn't blink. "A responsibility."
The truth hit harder than any cruelty he could have shown.
Aria's throat tightened. "So that's all I am."
"It is enough," he said.
"No," she whispered. "It isn't."
A flicker—barely a twitch—pulled at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn't amusement. It was something like warning.
"You are new here," he said. "And fragile. This land doesn't tolerate fragility. So listen carefully, Aria." He leaned slightly forward. "Stay inside the safe zones. Keep to the paths. Never go beyond the inner wall, not even out of curiosity."
"Why?" she pressed.
"For the same reason you don't put your hand into the mouth of a wolf."
"I'm not reckless," she muttered.
"You are curious," he countered. "And curious humans get killed."
Her breath hitched. A moment of silence stretched between them.
Then softly, she asked, "Are you one of the things I should fear?"
The Alpha straightened, his expression unreadable.
"You should fear underestimating me," he said. "Nothing more."
Aria lowered her gaze. "I understand."
"Good," he replied. But the flatness in his tone told her he didn't expect her to.