The journey took three nights and three days, and not a single word passed between them.
Princess Isabella rode in silence, her wrists adorned with delicate chains carved from silvervine-a metal harmless to vampires, but symbolic of servitude in the Lycanthran lands. She did not resist. Resistance was beneath her now; survival was the greater art. The howling wind caried the scent of pine and blood, mingling with earthy musk of wolves that prowled unseen along the path.
Ryan rode ahead, his dark cloak rippling like a shadow come to life. He had spoken no more than a few curt orders since leaving the Vampire Kingdom, and even in silence his presence dominated every heart beat around him.
Each mile that passed drew them closer to Lycanthra, the sprawling dominion of the wolves-the empire that had once haunted her kind to near extinction.
The Three Gates
At dusk on the fourth night the forest opened into a vast valley bathed in silver moonlight. And there rising from the earth like the bones of titans, stood the Three Gates of Lycanthra.
The first loomed tall and wide, built of rough-hewn stone and iron. The Servants' Gate. Beyond it sprawled roles of small houses and work shops, where the lowest ranks of the pack lived-the workers, healers, and slaves. Smoke curled from narrow chimneys, carrying the smell of tanned leather, sweat, and cooked meat.
The second gate gleamed faintly with obsidian metal, engraved with ancient runes that shimmered faintly under the moon. This was the Gate of the Fortunate-where the warriors, nobles and favoured pack members lived in guarded comfort.
And beyond them both set upon a rise of Silverstone cliffs, stood the final gate-tall, proud, and terrifyingly beautiful. The Gate of Azaron, leading to the capital city of Lycanthra. Behind it, the heart of the empire pulsed with power: towering spires, rivers of molten light, and at its center, the fortress of black crystal-the Citadel of the Alpha King.
Her new prison.
Ryan dismounted his horse with effortless grace, his golden eyes glinting faintly in the torchlight. He issued orders to his guards through pack bond, a telepathic link that bound his will to theirs. Isabella could not hear his words, but she saw the instant obedience in their eyes-like strings pulled taut by an unseen hand.
When he turned towards her, his voice was cold, precise.
''Take her to the Servants' Quarter. She will stay there until further notice.''
A tall guard with ash-gray fur streaking his temple stepped forward and bowed. ''Yes, my King.''
And without sparing her another glance, Ryan mounted his horse and rode towards the Capital Gate, his dark figure swallowed by the mist and moonlight.
They began to walk, the sound of boots crunching on gravel echoing in the stillness. The guard kept a careful distance, his posture rigid, his gaze fixed ahead. And after several minutes of silence Isabella finally spoke.
''Do all of you obey him so blindly?''
No answer.
She narrowed her eyes.'' He commanded you not to speak to me, didn't he?''
Still nothing-only the tightening of his jaw.
A faint smirk touched her lips. ''You wolves are predictable. Loyal but tragically dull.''
The guards grip on his spear faltered, just slightly. That was all the confirmation she needed.
As they passed through the first gate Isabella's eyes caught a scene that twisted her stomach.
A young werewolf knelt in dirt, his body trembling as two soldiers stood over him. Ryan's voice could be heard faintly through the pack bond-the command vibrating through the air like static-and without hesitation the soldiers struck the young wolf across the face.
''For stealing food,'' the escort murmured before he could stop himself.
Isabella turned to him sharply. ''That's punishment for hunger?''
He froze as if realizing he had spoken. But her gaze pinned him in place, sharp as a blade.
''He took bread from the kitchens,'' the guard said quietly. ''The Alpha believes mercy weakens the pack.''
''Then your Alpha confuses cruelty for strength,'' Isabella replied her voice low and dangerous.
For a long moment, they said nothing. Only the sound of distant howls filled the silence-wolves calling to one another across the city walls.
When they finally reached the Servants' Quarter, the guard stopped in front of a small weather-worn house at the edge of the district. The windows were cracked, the roof sagged, and the air smelt faintly of damp earth and ash.
''This will be your lodging, Princess,'' he said, the title slipping out with a trace of defiance against his King's order.
She arched her brow. ''Princess? I thought I was just a servant now.''
For the first time, the guard looked her in the eyes. ''A title doesn't fade that easily, even in Lycanthra.''
Isabella studied him for a moment-this man who had disobeyed his Alpha's silent command to show her a shred of humanity.
''Your name?''
He hesitated. ''Calen.''
''Then thank you, Calen,'' she said softly, stepping into the shadows of her new prison.
The Night Within Walls
Inside, the house was bare save for a wooden bed, a table, a single candle flickering weakly against the darkness. The walls whispered with the cold of a land that did not welcome her. She removed her cloak revealing the faint silver marks on her wrists where the chains had rested. For the first time leaving her father's palace, the weight of it all settled upon her-the humiliation, the loss, the uncertain danger that awaited her under the Alpha King's roof.
And yet...somewhere deep in her chest, beneath ache and fury, was the ghost of a heartbeat that was not entirely her own. A pulse that answered to his.
The mate bond.
She clenched her fists. ''Fate may have bound us Alpha,'' she whispered to the empty room, ''but it will not break me.''
Outside the moon hang high, silver and merciless, as the howls of Lycanthra echoed through the night.
And in the Citadel far above, Ryan Azaron Steel stood at his window, staring down at the Servants' Quarter with unreadable eyes.
He could feel her presence even from this distance-her defiance pinning like a flame against the cold. And though his heart denied it, his soul already knew:
The war between them had only just began.