Aria’s POV:

I sat on the edge of the unfamiliar bed in the guest wing, tracing patterns on the quilt. A sharp knock on the door made me jump.

I barely slept last night. The packhouse sounds were nothing like the forest. Every floorboard creak felt like a looming threat.

The door creaked open. A maid poked her head inside, eyeing me with sheer pity that turned my stomach.

“The Alpha wants you in his study. Now,” she muttered, stepping back. “He has paperwork for you to sign before the midday meal.”

“I’ll be right there,” I replied. I stood up, smoothing the wrinkles in my heavy dress. It felt far too expensive for a former slave.

I followed her through the winding corridors, keeping my face blank. But my mind raced with the gossip Nicolle had spilled last night.

During our late-night kitchen run, Nicolle whispered the dark history of the Hellbound Pack. The former Luna, Helen, died five years ago in childbirth.

The Alpha shut himself away, refusing to touch another woman. He became a cold shadow of his former self.

It explained why the pack craved stability, and why the Elders breathed down his neck for a male heir. But it didn't ease my panic about being caught in his twisted web.

We reached the study. The maid bowed and scurried off, leaving me facing the oak doors alone. I took a deep breath and pushed them open. Draven sat behind a cluttered desk. The morning sunlight highlighted his sharp jawline.

He didn't look up. His quill scratched across parchment with deadly precision. I just stood there, feeling like a patient awaiting a terminal diagnosis.

“Sit,” he ordered, gesturing to the chair without breaking his rhythm. “I drafted the contract. Read it carefully. Once you ink your name, there is no going back.”

I sat down and grabbed the parchment he slid over. My eyes skimmed the legal jargon that turned my life into a dirty transaction.

The terms were clear. I would play his Luna for one year, faking a solid marriage and a pregnancy. In return, I'd get my absolute freedom and a mountain of gold.

There was zero mention of the secret breeder or our fated bond. The omission made the whole deal feel like a cold-blooded scam.

“Is there a problem?” he drawled, leaning back. He watched me with unreadable eyes.

“No. I just want to ensure I can keep my healing herbs and look after Ella, as discussed,” I said, meeting his hard stare. I needed him to know I wasn't his mindless puppet.

“You can do whatever you want inside the packhouse, provided it doesn't ruin our public image,” he replied, shoving the quill toward me. “I told you the pup is your responsibility. Sign it and let’s get this over with.”

I dipped the nib and signed the bottom line. The scratching sounded like a final nail in my coffin. The second the ink dried, he snatched the paper and locked it in a drawer.

“The Elders were delayed,” he stated, walking toward the window. “They will arrive this afternoon.”

“Be ready when I call. You need to play the part of a woman thrilled to find her fated mate. Try to look less like you’re marching to the gallows.”

“I’ll do my best,” I muttered. He didn't care.

I spent the next hours pacing the garden in pure agony. Eventually, a guard fetched me. The meeting was starting.

My heart hammered against my ribs. When I reached the double doors, Draven stood waiting.

He didn't speak. He just grabbed my hand. His firm grip felt entirely too warm for a fake marriage.

“Stay close,” he ordered, pulling me inside. A dozen stern Elders sat around a mahogany table.

The room fell dead silent. Heavy stares judged my every move, picking apart my cheap background.

Draven led me to the head of the table and pulled out a chair. As I sat, the Elders exchanged shocked glances.

“I called you here for an announcement that secures the Hellbound future,” Draven boomed. He stood behind me, resting his heavy hands on my shoulders.

“I know you worry about my succession. But the Moon Goddess provided an unexpected solution.”

He paused, squeezing my shoulder. To the room, it looked like pure affection. To me, it was a silent threat.

“I found my second-chance mate,” he announced. His warm tone was completely fabricated.

“This is Aria. The bond is undeniable. I will marry her immediately to give this pack its rightful Luna.”

The Elders erupted in frantic whispers. Shock melted into guarded joy. One geezer stood, nodding eagerly.

“Wonderful news, Alpha! We feared the Darkmoon line would die with you. A second mate is a rare blessing.”

Draven laughed softly at their congratulations. He leaned down and whispered sweet nonsense against my ear. A cold chill ran down my spine.

He looked so genuinely relieved. If I hadn't signed that contract an hour ago, I would have believed him.

He was a terrifyingly good actor. It made me wonder what other lies hid behind that handsome smile.

“We begin preparations tonight,” Draven declared. “The wedding happens this week. There is no reason to delay when our souls are tied.”

I sat in silence, playing the blushing bride. Inside, my mind drifted to the dead Luna and the daughter he refused to acknowledge.

They spent an hour discussing pack logistics. By the time we were dismissed, my head spun from the sheer scale of his deception.

Draven walked me into the hallway. His hand lingered on mine until we cleared the guards.

“You did well,” he said, his voice dropping to a cold drawl.

I yanked my hand away, searching his face for the man who just glowed with fake happiness. “You’re good at this, aren't you?” I whispered.

He ignored me, casually adjusting his cuffs. He glanced toward the stairs. Ella stood there, watching us silently.

“I do what is necessary,” he deadpanned, striding away. He left me alone in the hall.

As I watched him leave, a shadow flickered at the corridor's end. A woman’s dress disappeared around the corner.

I followed, assuming it was Nicolle. Then I heard a low humming from the old library. The eerie melody didn't belong to any packhouse maid.

I stepped toward the sound, curiosity overriding my fear. The humming abruptly stopped. A heavy lock clicked from the inside.

I stared at the wood, wondering who else lurked in this house of secrets. Suddenly, a cold draft blasted the hall. It blew out the candles, plunging me into pitch-black darkness.