Chapter 3 Beneath The Surface

The wine burned Aria’s throat more than she expected. It wasn’t strong—just foreign. Like everything else in this cursed mansion. She set the crystal glass down and met Dominic’s gaze across the table. “Tell me something,” she said, voice low. He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Why didn’t you just mark me and be done with it? You had the opportunity. You still do.” Dominic leaned back in his chair, swirling his wine as if considering whether to answer. Candlelight flickered against his sharp jaw and shadowed eyes. “I could’ve,” he admitted. “And maybe I still will. But that’s not how I want it.” Aria stiffened. “You’re waiting for me to fall for you?” His smile was dark, hollowed of warmth. “No, Aria. I’m waiting for you to realize that you already belong to me. Whether you hate me or not.” She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the stone floor. “I’ll never belong to anyone.” Dominic rose too—calmly, slowly, like a predator scenting a challenge. “You speak like someone who’s never been claimed,” he said. She stepped back, ignoring the flicker of heat that his words stirred. “Because I haven’t. I’ve kept myself untouched. For years. Even when I was starving, hunted, forced to hide in brothels just to find shelter. I stayed pure.” She wasn’t sure why she said it. Maybe she wanted him to understand. Maybe she wanted to remind him that whatever control he thought he had, she still held something back. Dominic’s expression didn’t shift. But the air between them changed. “You think that makes you stronger?” he asked. She lifted her chin. “It makes me dangerous.” “No,” he said. “It makes you mine.” His voice was velvet and steel, a whisper that slid beneath her skin. She felt her breath catch, but she didn’t show it. Wouldn’t show it. Not to him. Not to the man who had bought her like cattle. “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “And if you ever touch me without my consent, I’ll kill you in your sleep.” Dominic walked to her, slow, deliberate. When he reached her, he raised his hand—not to touch her, but to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t want a submissive mate. I want the one who would rather slit my throat than wear my mark. That’s the only kind of Luna worthy of a kingdom like mine.” She blinked. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?” “It’s a prophecy.” --- The next day, Aria returned to the hidden library. Mira had left a few books out for her, all of them related to ancient rites and the Moon Blessed. Aria absorbed every line like a starving woman, taking careful notes on anything that hinted at divine ancestry. One passage made her pause: “The Moon Blessed possess one forbidden trait that threatens all Alpha lines: immunity to the mate bond’s compulsion. This gift is both curse and power. Those with it are feared, hunted, or locked away.” A shiver ran down her spine. Immunity. That explained why the pull wasn’t overtaking her. Why she could look into Dominic’s eyes and feel… something—but not the uncontrollable heat that should’ve consumed her by now. And if the Council discovered what she was? They’d never let her live. Her hands trembled as she turned the page, but the next section was missing—ripped out, the jagged edges still stained with what looked suspiciously like dried blood. “Looking for something?” a deep voice asked behind her. She spun around. Dominic. “Do you follow me everywhere?” she snapped. “No,” he said. “Just when you sneak into my private archives.” She hesitated. “Mira said it was allowed.” “She lied,” he replied. But he didn’t sound angry. Just curious. He moved past her and ran a finger along the damaged book. “That passage scared them,” he said. “Because it’s true. And the last girl who read it was found strangled in her sleep before she could tell anyone.” Aria’s blood turned cold. “Are you threatening me?” “No,” he said, meeting her eyes. “I’m warning you. If you’re Moon Blessed, you need to be careful who you let find out.” She narrowed her gaze. “So you do believe I am.” “I don’t know,” he replied. “But I want to.” She tilted her head. “Why?” “Because,” Dominic said, stepping close again, “the Council is terrified of prophecy. And if you are what they fear… then you’re not just a bride. You’re a weapon. And I want you pointed at my enemies.” It was the closest thing to an alliance he’d offered. But it wasn’t enough. “I’m not your weapon,” she whispered. “I’m the storm you can’t control.” “Good,” he said, brushing past her. “Then we’re going to make a hell of a kingdom.” --- Later that night, Aria lay awake in her luxurious prison. She should’ve been planning escape. But something strange tugged at her thoughts—something she didn’t understand. Dominic hadn’t marked her. Hadn’t forced her. Hadn’t even locked her door. Every night she expected the worst. Every night, he disappointed her by being… measured. Patient. Dangerous, yes—but not cruel. It made her wary. It made her wonder. And worst of all… it made her curious. Who was the man behind the Alpha? What did he lose to become this cold, strategic leader? She hated herself for caring. But curiosity, once sparked, was hard to kill. ---