Chapter 1 — The Rebellion Within

Cat

The corridors of Blackmoor Manor were a maze of muted elegance, their dimly lit walls lined with ancestral portraits that seemed to watch Cat’s every move. The flicker of candlelight made the painted eyes come alive, a silent reminder of the weight she carried as the Blackmoor heir. Her boots struck the aged stone floor with a determined rhythm, the sharp clicks echoing through the oppressive silence. The scent of old wood, leather, and cold stone filled her nostrils—familiar, suffocating, unyielding.

Each step toward her father’s study was a war drum in her ears. Her fury was a fire threatening to consume her, fueled by disbelief and betrayal. She had spent her life resisting Alaric’s control, but this—this was a new low. He’d forced her hand before, but never like this.

Her mind flashed to her mother’s voice, long ago, soft and calming as it tried to shield her from her father’s iron rule. *“You have a strength he doesn’t understand, Cat. One day, you’ll remind him that it’s a strength he can’t control.”* The memory made her jaw clench. She may have been a child then, but the truth of it burned brighter than ever now.

She didn’t knock. The heavy oak door creaked open under the force of her shove, revealing the cavernous room beyond. The dim light from the fire crackling in the stone hearth illuminated the stark lines of Alaric’s face. He stood behind his desk, a hulking figure of authority, his broad shoulders rigid beneath the black wool of his tailored coat. His icy blue eyes, as cold as winter’s first frost, lifted from the open ledger before him.

“Catriona,” he greeted, his tone as sharp as a blade. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this... unannounced visit?”

“Cut the theatrics, Father,” Cat snapped, her voice hard as steel. She stepped into the room, letting the door slam shut behind her. “I know what you’re planning.”

Alaric arched a dark brow, his expression unreadable. “Then there’s no need for dramatics, is there?”

Cat’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “An arranged mating, really? With Lucian Ravenshade, of all people? You think shackling me to him will solve centuries of blood feuds?”

“Not ‘think,’” Alaric corrected, his voice calm, almost clinical. “Know. This is the only way forward, Catriona. The Blackmoor and Ravenshade clans must unite. The council demands it, and the survival of our people depends on it.”

“Don’t pretend this is about survival,” she shot back, her striking green eyes blazing. “This is about power. It’s always about power with you, even if it means sacrificing your family for it.”

Alaric leaned forward, his large hands braced on the polished mahogany desk. The firelight danced across his face, casting harsh shadows that deepened the lines of age and authority etched into his features. “Do you think the council cares about your independence, Catriona? Do you think they’ll hesitate to question my leadership if we don’t comply? Uniting the clans is the only way to ensure we remain strong enough to face what’s coming.”

“And what *is* coming, Father?” Cat’s tone was sharp, but for the first time, uncertainty crept beneath her defiance. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Alaric’s expression flickered for the briefest moment—a crack in his otherwise impenetrable armor. It was gone just as quickly, replaced by his usual steely resolve. “You don’t understand the weight of leadership yet, but you will. The clan comes before you, before me, before anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Cat said, her voice lowering as her anger turned icy. “You’ve spent my entire life grooming me to lead, but only on your terms. You want a puppet, not a leader. Well, I won’t do it. I won’t be your pawn in some political game.”

“You think you have a choice in this? You do not.” Alaric straightened, his towering form imposing even from across the room. “The mate bond is sacred, Catriona. Once it is established, you will see its purpose. Resistance will do nothing but weaken you.”

“Stop!” she interrupted, her voice cracking with raw emotion. “Don’t you dare talk to me about sacred bonds. You’re using it as a leash, and you know it. This isn’t about unity or tradition. You’re sacrificing me for your agenda.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Alaric’s gaze remained cold and unyielding, but beneath the frost, Cat thought she saw the faintest flicker of... regret? It unsettled her more than his indifference.

“You may resent me now,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl, “but one day, you’ll thank me. One day, you’ll see that this was the only way to secure our future.”

Cat’s throat tightened, but she refused to let him see her falter. “No,” she said through gritted teeth. “You don’t get to decide my future.”

Alaric exhaled sharply, the sound laced with frustration. “You will do your duty, Catriona. You can fight it all you want, but the ceremony is set. You will meet him soon enough.”

Her fists clenched at her sides. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as though the walls themselves conspired to trap her. “I won’t submit to this,” she said, her voice trembling with barely suppressed fury. “I’ll find a way out.”

She turned on her heel, the tail of her leather jacket snapping behind her as she made her way to the door. Alaric’s voice followed her, cold and unyielding. “You can’t run from this, Cat. The clan’s survival depends on you. Nothing matters more.”

Cat didn’t respond. She wrenched the door open and strode into the hallway, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. The weight of her father’s words pressed down on her, heavy and relentless. She paused just outside the study, her hand gripping the cold stone wall as she fought to steady herself. Her father’s impenetrable resolve echoed in her mind, and for the first time, doubt whispered at the edges of her defiance.

But no. She couldn’t let him win. Not like this.

The portraits lining the walls seemed to watch her with judgmental eyes as she made her way toward the entrance of the manor. Their painted expressions, proud and unyielding, were a reminder of the legacy she was expected to uphold. But they didn’t know what it meant to live under Alaric’s thumb.

When she finally reached the arched double doors of the manor’s entrance, she pushed them open with both hands, letting the cool night air wash over her. The mist clinging to the grounds swirled around her boots as she stepped outside, drawing deep breaths of the damp, pine-scented air. The city lights of Edinburgh twinkled faintly in the distance, but her gaze was drawn to the dense, foreboding trees of the Forest of Shadows beyond the grounds.

Her sanctuary. Her escape.

She started toward it, her boots crunching softly on the gravel path. The forest loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette both inviting and menacing under the pale glow of the moon. It was a place where she could let her guard down, at least for a moment, and sort through the storm of emotions threatening to consume her.

As she reached the edge of the woods, she paused, glancing back at the manor. Its towering spires and weathered stone seemed to mock her, a reminder of the cage she couldn’t yet escape. But she would find a way. She had to.

With one last look, she disappeared into the forest’s shadowy embrace, the cool air whispering against her skin. Tonight, she would reclaim a sliver of freedom, if only for a while.

And when the time came, she would fight like hell to take back the rest.