CLAIMED - Fated to Two Chapter 4: The Man with the Purple Eyes

Please, don’t surrender to him!

I stir awake, my body aching from exhaustion and the biting cold that seeps through my skin.

I’m in an unfamiliar room with a female she-wolf, who I assu is an Oga. The snowflake sigil on her badge pinned on her uniform and her pale hair reveal where I am: the Frostveil Pack.

My phone is at the bedside table, which is completely unusable now after being subrged in the cold lake. But there’s a new phone beside it.

"That’s yours. Our Alpha replaced your phone," the Oga says.

When I transfer my sim card to the new phone so I could contact Harper, the sim card isn’t working either. Worse, I don’t rember Harper’s complete phone number, and she doesn’t have an email address.

"I’d like to speak to... Mr. Chandler, please. Where can I et him?" I say.

"There are several Chandlers in our pack. Who specifically are you referring to?" she asks.

"The one who brought here. He’s a handso man with silver hair and purple eyes," I reply.

Before she can respond, the door opens and an older-looking Oga enters.

"The Alpha and several officials of the Dunebourne Pack have just arrived. I’m here to fetch our guest," she says.

My heart stops as fear clogs my veins. "Please, don’t give back to them! They’ll kill !"

"It’s not our decision to make. You must co with to the banquet hall. Our council is also there to et your packmates," she answers flatly.

For a brief mont, I think about escaping now. But then I rember the man with the purple eyes. Maybe he’ll help again. If he refuses, then I’ll find another chance to escape.

I follow the Ogas down the stairs and through long corridors until we reach a glass hall surrounded by snow-covered gardens.

Alpha Philip, Beta Victor, Lance, Aiko, and five other Dunebourne werewolves look out of place here, wrapped in thick coats since coats aren’t a thing in the humid region of the Dunebourne. They keep sipping their steaming teas and coffees to alleviate the cold, while barely touching the feast in front of them.

Across from them sit the Frostveil werewolves. And in the center, is the man with the piercing purple eyes. His tattooed chest is exposed from the low neckline of his expensive-looking coat, as if the cold doesn’t bother him one bit.

Relief washes over .

"I’m not going back with you if that’s what you’re here for," I declare firmly.

Alpha Philip’s lips curl into a mocking smile. "And who told you that the Frostveil Pack will keep you here?"

I glance at Mr. Chandler, hoping he’ll speak for . But his nonchalance gives away nothing.

Of course. Why would he care for a stranger like ?

"I never said I’ll be staying here. I’m just saying that I won’t go back with you," I counter.

Almost all of the Dunebourne wolves chuckle in wicked amusent, except Lance who’s fidgeting and seems anxious about sothing.

Then one of the Frostveil officials says, "Unfortunately, you can’t decide that while you’re in our territory. Until our Alpha returns, we, his council, will decide. Not surrendering you properly would an disrespecting our alliance with the Dunebourne Pack. It’ll also create a ripple of distrust among other packs towards ours."

Again, I look to Mr. Chandler. And again, he remains unflinching.

I must escape now and find Harper! But how?

From here, the snowy landscape seems to stretch endlessly, that I can barely see the tip of the white mountains at the horizon.

Even if I manage to run, can I get to the border before the cold kills , or worse, before they can seize ?

Desperation crawls through , making my body move before my mind can even think of a better strategy. I wolf-out and sprint through the snow.

"After her!" Alpha Philip growls.

Five Dunebourne wolf-out and chase after . The Frostveil werewolves, however, remain seated at the banquet table, gawking at in disbelief.

The snow grips my paws, stealing my balance and speed.

From all sides, white wolves appear, moving effortlessly. And within seconds, I’m surrounded.

Panting, I face them with my hackles raised. "If you think I’ll let you capture , you’re wrong! If I have to die fighting for my freedom, I will!"

The white wolves hesitate, keeping their distance. But the brown wolves lunge forward in unison.

Pain explodes across my body as claws and canines rip through my back, my legs, and my torso.

I snap at one of them, tasting blood as my canines sink into his shoulder. He yelps and stumbles away.

Another wolf slams into my side, and I tumble into the snow, gasping.

I strike back, clawing wildly, but there are too many of them. And my strength is fading faster than I’d hope for as my blood seeps into the snow beneath .

Then,...

In the blur of the mont, a white wolf with streaks of silver running down his back stands in front of . His piercing purple eyes lock onto mine.

Mr. Chandler?

The Dunebourne wolves pause, while the Frostveil slightly bows their heads.

"This woman isn’t a Dunebourne wolf. Therefore, she doesn’t belong to you, Alpha Philip," Mr. Chandler says.

Still in his human form, Alpha Philip’s face tightens with unease. "Still, she’s my son’s mate. Now, give her to us and let us leave peacefully."

"Please... don’t give to them," I manage to say, my voice faint.

Mr. Chandler lowers his head to , and softly asks, "What pack do you belong to? I’ll send you safely back to them."

"I... I belong to no pack," I stop myself before I utter Shadowfang.

Alpha Philip wouldn’t dare expose , coz doing so would reveal his betrayal in the war that ant to destroy every single Shadowfang wolf.

"Damian! What are you doing?!" A commanding voice rings out. An older man, with the sa silver hair and piercing purple eyes, appears.

"Dad," Mr. Chandler begins, "I can’t surrender her to them. There must be a good reason a non-Dunebourne wolf would risk death to escape the Dunebourne Pack. Shouldn’t we hear her out before handing her over?"

"It’s not our place to ddle with our allies’ affairs," his father snaps.

"We wait for Alpha Torrin then. He’ll decide," Mr. Chandler counters, before shifting into his human form.

He gathers in his arms as I, too, shift back.

Suddenly,...

Lance appears, fury burning in his eyes. "You too?! I told your Alpha I can take care of her, but he didn’t listen! Instead, he demanded to speak to my father first! Now that dad is here, he’s suddenly nowhere to be found?!"

Mr. Chandler ignores him by walking past him without a word.

Lance wolfs-out. But before he can attack, a dozen white wolves surround him, growling low and dangerous.

He steps back, while his rage continues to blaze in his eyes as Mr. Chandler carries away.

Back in the sa room where I was before, Mr. Chandler gently lays down onto the bed

"Thanks for saving again, Mr. Chandler," I say.

He brings over a first aid kit from the ensuite bathroom, then replies. "Call Damian instead. And this is the first ti I saved you."

But I saw him at the icy lake when I was drowning. Maybe he doesn’t want to admit it.

As he cleans the wounds on my arms and shoulders, he speaks again. "I know a few packs with black wolves. But your fur is softer and glossier than them. I’ve only heard of one pack like that... the one said to carry a powerful yet cursed bloodline. Is that why the Dunebourne wolves want you so badly?"

Anxiety coils inside

Is he keeping here for the sa reason, to exploit ?

"I-I don’t know what you’re talking about," I stutter.

He stares at , as if trying to read through my mind. Then, he nods, accepting my lie.

"By the way, the one who pulled you from the lake and brought you here is Alpha Torrin, not . Whatever he decides will be final, and there’s nothing you or I can do about that," he says.

I clutch his hand desperately. "How about you let escape now?"

He glances down at our joined hands, prompting to quickly pull mine away.

Before either of us can speak, noises rise outside: voices, footsteps, and the creak of carts.

I limp my way onto the balcony. Below, n and won unload deer, elk, and bison onto the snow. Leading them stands a tall, muscular man with silver, curly hair that falls to his broad shoulders... and a pair of purple eyes, piercer than Damian’s.

He and Damian can pass as twins if you don’t pay attention to the tiny differences in their sharp features.

The man angles his view upward, and smiles warmly... to , as if we’ve already t before.

He must be Alpha Torrin, the one who saved from drowning.

I turn to Damian and demand, "I’d like to have a private conversation with your Alpha, now."