Chapter 2: Meeting the Devil
"Enough."
The word rang out like a thunderclap, reverberating through the room and slamming into my chest. The voice was deep, rich with authority—and God, it sounded so nice. My body froze, a chill running down my spine as I instinctively looked toward the door. There, framed in the doorway like a god descending from the heavens, stood Azariel Silverbane—the alpha of our pack, the man I was being sold to.
He was... stunning. He seemed to be crafted by the moon goddess herself. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark, tousled hair falling around his face in messy perfection. His green eyes, so pale they almost glowed, scanned the room with a predatory gleam. There was strength and authority in his posture, maybe it was the way he carried himself—but no, it was the very air itself that seemed to buckle under the weight of his presence.
My breath caught in my throat. This was him. How was I supposed to marry him? How was I supposed to marry the alpha of my pack? He didn't even know anything about me, and I didn't know anything about him—which made me more confused. And yet, despite everything, I couldn't deny how he made me feel. I knew I wasn't supposed to feel anything for him—at least, not now. Not so early. Not after everything that had happened. But when he looked at me, I couldn't help it. The air shifted. My heart raced—my mind shut down.
He was... so handsome.
But before I could fully process the rush of feelings swirling in my chest, Azariel's eyes snapped to Kael.
"I said enough," Azariel growled, stepping into the room like the very ground beneath him trembled in response. His voice was cold, sharp—like the edge of a blade—and the mere presence of it made Kael flinch.
The tension in the room thickened. For a split second, Kael seemed unsure whether to obey or challenge Azariel. But that moment passed quickly, and with a resentful sneer, Kael glared at me one last time before storming out.
His exit was swift, but the anger in his eyes promised that this wouldn't be the last time we crossed paths. The thought made my stomach churn.
Azariel's gaze finally returned to me, and it felt like the world itself bent beneath the weight of his stare. His eyes bore into mine, intense and calculating. The moment stretched on forever.
Then, with a voice like ice cracking, Azariel spoke.
"Seraphina."
I winced at the sound of my name, harsh and clipped, coming from his lips. "What the hell did you think you were doing!?" His words hit me like a slap. Did he think I was about to have sex with him? How was that even possible? We weren't even that close. So why was he asking me that? His voice remained steady, though, as if his control was the only thing holding him back from crushing me completely.
I had expected nothing less. My heart sank, the hollow feeling gnawing at my chest.
"Sorry," I muttered under my breath, unsure what I was apologizing for, but not wanting to anger the alpha. The shame weighed heavily on my tongue. The sting of Kael's slap still lingered on my cheek, but somehow, this felt worse.
Azariel let out a disgusted sigh, turning away from me. "You're not here to cause trouble, Seraphina. Do you understand that?" His voice was cold, so cold it made the air in the room feel frigid. He shook his head, muttering something in a language I didn't understand, his words sharp and alien-like.
"Tseron vashil, taulk lor ethenri...!"
I didn't know what it meant, but I caught the anger in the cadence—the fury in the way he spat the words out.
Azariel looked back at me, his eyes narrowing, his posture rigid. "I didn't agree to this just so you could humiliate my family's name," he continued, his voice thick with contempt. "You'd better get your act together. Don't embarrass me again. Tomorrow, you need to be ready."
I wanted to speak, to ask why he was treating me like this, but the words got stuck in my throat. What was the point? He didn't care. Not really. I was a tool. A means to an end.
Before I could gather my thoughts, Azariel was already walking out of the clinic, his footsteps heavy and decisive. I scrambled to keep up, my legs struggling to match his pace as he stormed toward the door.
As I stepped outside into the cold night air, I saw him already at his car. It was sleek, black, and imposing—the kind of vehicle that matched his presence. Without a word, he opened the passenger door for me, but the gesture was empty. I climbed in, my heart racing, my palms sweating.
I could barely bring myself to look at him as the car roared to life. Azariel's grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white as he drove with unnerving speed. The silence between us was suffocating.
I wanted to scream, to demand an explanation. I mean, I did nothing with him, and he still shouted at me. He also said he didn't agree to this—then why did he agree in the first place? I wanted to ask him all that, but the words wouldn't come. All I could hear was the steady hum of the engine, the sound of the world passing us by. His rage pressed down on me, and I felt small, insignificant.
When we arrived at my aunt's house, I half-expected him to just drive away. But instead, he slammed the car door shut with a force that made me jump. Without a glance in my direction, he stormed up to the door, his anger crackling in the air.
I followed behind, my heart hammering in my chest. What would happen now?
Inside, my aunt was waiting, her face tight with fury as Azariel stepped into the room. Without a word, he let loose a string of harsh, foreign words in Grylic, his tone dripping with disdain. My aunt stood frozen, a brief flicker of uncertainty flashing in her eyes.
"Thaalik voretka. Kethra thon shaa…"
Azariel's voice boomed, his fury so palpable I could almost taste it.
I couldn't understand all of it, but I caught the words, "…you will regret this," and "…correct her, now."
My aunt's face turned ashen, and she muttered something back, her words laced with anger. "You're a disgrace," she hissed at me. "Why can't you avoid trouble for once?"
I bit back the urge to respond, to fight back. But what was the point? Azariel had already made it clear that I was nothing more than a pawn, a piece in his game. And I was losing.
Azariel turned to me, his voice still cold and unforgiving. "Tomorrow. Be ready. I don't care what it takes. You will behave as you should, or there will be consequences."
I nodded silently, my throat tight. I wanted to speak up. I wanted to ask why this was happening. Why me? But it didn't matter. Not now.
As Azariel stormed out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was in more trouble than I had ever imagined.