Chapter 3: The Weight of Silence

Words : 1185 Updated : Sep 11th, 2025

Chapter 3 of "Chained to the Enemy Alpha" starts with: Lily kept running, as quickly as her legs could take her. “Hey!” one barked, grabbing her... Continue exploring!

Lily kept running, as quickly as her legs could take her. “Hey!” one barked, grabbing her arm roughly. “Where do you think you’re going?” She barely made it halfway down the hall before two guards spotted her. She tried to fight, but she was too weak; her legs barely held her up. The other guard sneered. “You’re lucky the Alpha didn’t kill you. If it were up to me...” He didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, they snapped the chains back around her wrists and dragged her through the halls like a stray dog. When they reached the dungeon, they threw her in and slammed the door shut behind her. She collapsed to the floor, the cold biting into her skin, her wrists burning. She wanted to scream, but of course, she couldn’t. She laid there, curled up, shaking. So this is it? This is my life? She used to dream of meeting her mate. Of being saved. Of being loved. What a joke. That dream was dead now. Zayn wasn’t a savior. He was just another cage. Another hell waiting to consume her. The tears continued as her body began to burn from the inside out. Her skin felt hot. Her breathing grew shallow. She welcomed it. The fever. The sickness. It was the only thing that felt familiar, oddly comforting. Maybe this time, she wouldn’t wake up. Please, she mouthed to no one. Just let me die. *** Zayn stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, staring at the door Lily had just run through. Her scent still lingered in the air—warm, soft, and haunting. It clung to the sheets. To his skin. To his lungs. He walked over to the bed slowly, eyes scanning the mess left behind—the torn dress, the discarded blanket, and faint drops of blood on the sheets from where she’d bit her lip. In his mind, images of Lily replayed over and over again. Scars. Dozens. Some thin and straight—like lashes. Others thick and jagged—like knives. There were burns, too. The kind that left someone damaged. Her body was a map of suffering. He’d seen a lot of pain in his life. He’d lived through hell. But this? This was something else. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling hard at the roots. He’d meant to punish her. Break her. Make her feel the helplessness he’d felt when Irene was murdered. When his child was torn from the womb and fed to dogs. When his people screamed and no one came. But how could he break her when she was already broken? There was little that he knew about him. He was supposed to know everything about the people who’d ruined his life and the lives of his pack members. But Lily Brightpaw was an enigma. Zayn’s hands shook. He stood up suddenly and slammed his fist into the wall. The wood cracked under his knuckles. Blood smeared across the surface. He barely noticed and didn’t care. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he muttered to himself, pacing the room. She was the daughter of his enemy, the one who destroyed everything he loved. That will never change. But those scars were inflicted to cause pain. Zayn clenched his jaw, recalling how she flinched at his touch. The fear in her eyes. And the way she looked when he threw her out—tears running down her cheeks, his shirt hanging loosely on her small fragile frame. Zayn’s gut twisted. Why the hell did it matter? She was the enemy. Still, he was determined to figure out why. Someone had to know what happened to her. Someone who was always close. He ran a hand through his hair and finally snapped. “Bring me the maid,” he ordered the guard outside his door. Fifteen minutes later, a small, older she-wolf was brought into the room. She bowed deeply, her eyes avoiding his. “You were assigned to Lily Brightpaw?” Zayn asked, voice sharp. “I took care of her since she was a baby,” she answered, keeping her voice respectful but steady. “My name is Martha.” He studied her, trying to decide whether she was loyal or scared. “Is she mute by birth?” he asked. Martha hesitated. “No, Alpha.” Zayn’s jaw twitched. “Explain.” “She was poisoned,” Martha said quietly. “A slow-acting one. No one knew at first—not until strange symptoms started showing. Her mother died giving birth to her, so whatever happened... it went unnoticed for too long.” Zayn frowned. “Poisoned?” “Yes, Alpha,” Martha said. “It damaged her voice. She lost it when she was very young. And... it affected her a lot.” That explained the delay in healing. The lack of a shift. The slow responses. She was trapped inside her own body. “She has no wolf?” he asked. “She was supposed to,” Martha said, her voice shaking a little now. “But the poison weakened the connection. Her first shift never came.” Zayn turned away, his expression unreadable. Of course. Of course it wasn’t just that she was weak. The goddess hadn’t just given him a voiceless omega—she’d given him a broken one. Mute. Wolf-less. Damaged beyond repair. His fists clenched tighter. “What about the scars?” he asked. Martha hesitated again. Zayn’s tone darkened. “Answer me.” She swallowed hard before replying, “They’re from her family.” Silence. Zayn turned back to face her slowly. “Her father did that?” Her eyes dropped to the floor. “And her brother.” Zayn’s jaw locked. “She was punished often,” Martha said, quieter now. “Sometimes for making a loud noise. Sometimes for being in the room. Sometimes... for nothing at all. The Alpha hated her from the moment her mother died.” Zayn didn’t speak. He stared past Martha, lost in his own thoughts. “She grew up hiding in the servant quarters. Was never allowed to train, or shift, or socialize. She worked like one of us. Worse, actually,” Martha added. “We all saw it. No one said anything.” Zayn didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected this. He’d thought she was just a spoiled Alpha’s daughter. But she was a prisoner too. Martha knelt down, surprising him. “Alpha,” she said, her voice desperate. “Please.” He blinked, startled by the shift in tone. “Please... let me stay by her side,” she said. “She’s alone. She has no one left. Even if she doesn’t speak, I can hear her. I understand her.” Zayn stared at her. She wasn’t begging for her life. She wasn’t begging for freedom. She was begging to stay with Lily. Zayn turned away and didn’t answer for a long time. His hands dropped to his sides. “Are you doing this out of pity?” He could not help but ask, “Under my rule, wolves like you are free to do as you please. You don’t have to serve her.” Martha shook her head, “She has no one else left. I... I can’t leave her like this. Please Alpha Zayn, please.”

Chapter 3: The Weight of Silence

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