Arabella's POV
As I walked towards what was possibly my execution, I was calm. It was the sort of calm that came from accepting one's helplessness rather than the one that came from assurance.
I was barefoot - my footwear had been confiscated almost immediately I had been incarcerated by the guards on Anastasia's orders- my feet were injured but a bit stronger due to the little food Margaret had been able to give me.
I limped, escorted by a guard on either side. My pulse thundered and my mouth was dry. I swallowed. I couldn't even ask for water because Anastasia had forbidden it. At this point, I was more scared of Alpha Luciano marrying her than I was of her marrying him.
They took me to a part of the pack house that had been out of bounds for me before. It was like an amphitheatre
