My Dream Mate Hates Me

Sage’s POV

The meeting ended, but the tension in the hall still hung heavy, like smoke that refused to clear. Those forced to leave someone behind lingered, murmuring quiet reassurances, making promises to reunite.

I stood beside my father as he spoke in hushed tones with our Beta. His shoulders were rigid, his jaw tight. He had tried to argue with Ronan—but the moment he did, he realized how close he was to crossing a dangerous line.

Ronan was the Alpha King. His word was law.

Still, my father hesitated before turning to me. His golden eyes, usually unreadable, now held a weight that made my chest tighten.

“Sage,” he said quietly. “I don’t like this, but it is what it is. You are my daughter, and no matter what happens, remember that.”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “I know.”

“You are not weak.” His hands gripped my shoulders, firm, grounding. “I raised you to be strong, Sage. No matter what happens here, you stand tall. Even if it’s the Alpha King himself standing in your way—do not cower.”

A lump rose in my throat. I forced it down. I wasn’t going to cry.

I straightened. “I won’t.”

For a heartbeat, his expression softened. Then he released me, turned, and walked away without another word.

I watched as he and the other Alphas climbed into their cars and drove off—one by one—leaving behind a scattering of warriors, Betas… and me.

Just like that, I was alone.

An hour ago, I’d arrived as the Alpha’s daughter.

Now, I was nothing more than a prisoner.

---

After the Alphas departed, those of us remaining were gathered and divided into groups. I barely heard the instructions. My mind was still replaying my father’s words—sharp and steady, echoing like an oath.

I would not cower.

I would not break.

Even if Ronan tried to make me.

The hallway they led me through was dimly lit, long and silent except for the echo of boots against stone. The walls were rough, the air cool and faintly metallic, as if the castle itself breathed secrets.

The warrior escorting me stopped before a large wooden door. “This is your room,” he said flatly.

I stepped inside.

The room was simple—bare, almost cold.

A large bed sat at the center, draped in thick blankets. A wooden dresser stood against the far wall beside a modest wardrobe. A desk and chair occupied one corner. No decorations. No warmth. No trace of luxury.

Just a place to sleep.

A place to wait.

A place for someone who had no choice but to stay.

Because that’s what I was now—a pawn in whatever game Ronan was playing.

He hadn’t spoken to me since the meeting.

I hadn’t seen him.

And yet, the awareness of him clung to me like a shadow.

I should’ve been relieved. His presence alone was suffocating. But as I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the empty space around me, unease coiled low in my stomach.

The man I’d dreamed of for years—the one I’d thought was my fate—had turned into a stranger. A cruel, unrecognizable version of the one I used to feel in my dreams.

And now I was trapped in his castle.

---

Evening fell slowly.

When a knock sounded at my door, I stiffened.

Two guards entered, carrying my luggage. They set it down wordlessly and left just as quickly, their silence heavier than any insult.

I barely glanced at the bags.

Tomorrow, training would begin.

Tomorrow, I’d have to fight.

And tomorrow, I’d have to face him.

I crawled under the blankets, exhaustion weighing down every limb. The bed was soft, but it felt foreign—like sleeping in a cage lined with silk.

Sleep came quickly, dragging me under before I could think too much.

And for the first time in years—

Ronan was not in my dreams.