Elara couldn't sleep.
When she closed her eyes, dreams swallowed her whole. She felt her legs running from Caius. She saw her parents calling her name, their voices fading into silence. Then she saw another figure, darker and more cruel than Caius, he reached for her, but the mist thickened until she awoke with a sharp gasp. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the frantic hammering of her heart. Morning light leaked through the shutters, masking the terror.
"The Luna requested your presence." Rose said walking towards the bed. "You had a dream, child?"
Her stomach twisted and she groaned. The dream had felt too real. "Yes." She moved quickly to the shuttered window. Below, in the courtyard was Caius moving like a predator. His eyes burning as he fought against three of his men at once. He laughed, the sound echoing across the stones and sending a chill crawling up her spine.
"Your clothes were brought early, Elara."
"Then let's go see the Luna,"
She stood in front of the mirror, the fabric brushing her skin softly. The gown was beautiful. It clung to her in ways she wasn't used to, a reminder that nothing was hers. When the servants came for her again, she followed in silence, her heart pounding as they entered the great hall. The room smelled like sand and stone. Sunlight filtered through the tall glass windows, pooling around the woman who sat on the throne. Her hair, fell over a gown of muted blue. She rose slowly and descended the steps, her every movement measured and graceful.
"So, you are the little wolf that Caius favors?" She reached out, fingers warm against Elara's cheek. "Red hair and round eyes." she tilted her chin roughly. "Too bold for my liking."
She turned, gesturing the servant to step closer. "You'll join the women assigned to please Caius. Perhaps, you could learn how to be a proper Luna."
She stood by the window of the women's wing, not far from the Luna's watch. The moonlight spilling across the floor like silver threads. The place was quiet. Rose busied herself in the room, smoothing the bed, adjusting curtains and arranging her bath. Moments later a knock sounded. Before Rose could answer, Caius stepped in.
His hair was slightly damp, as if he'd just come from training, his shirt opened at the collar.
"Setting in nicely?" He said with a mocking smile.
"Yes." Elara said, fingers clenched at her gown.
"Our marriage day is near," he said casually. "You will be Luna and the pack will bow to my reign."
She stepped away, but he followed, stopping in front of her and stroking her cheek. "There are things I can't wait to do to you. Things that you've never dreamed of and you'll beg for them."
"Get away from me." she hissed, forcing steel to her voice.
"Careful, little wolf. You don't make demands. "
As the door shut behind him, she struggled to steady her breath. Rose stood frozen at the corner, face pale.
Inside the women's wing, whispers drifted like wind that some women were bathing at the spring. She dressed quickly and stepped to the courtyard, the air crisp and alive. The path to the stone spring wounded through rows of old pine and flowers. When she reached the clearing, laughter rose like a melody carried by the breeze. The spring shimmered like glass, carved into the stone. Steam rose in soft curls, blurring the outlines of the women bathing there. Their skin gleamed under the sunlight, hair glistening like spun gold. They splashed and teased one another, voices dripping in flirtation.
"Did you all see Caius this morning?" one of them giggled.
"Of course! Oh, the way he moves."
Another sighed dreamily. "I prefer his rogue brother. I heard seeing him alone will set your wolf on fire."
Her stomach felt unsettled. Caius was more than enough. Now, the thought of his brother showing up would kill her. She turned away, stepping deeper into the trees. The forest was quieter, older. She inhaled the scent of moss and wild mint, letting the noise of the women fade behind her. Her body shivered. Something was wrong. Her wolf stirred restlessly, its instincts flaring. She turned, scanning the area.
"Who's there?" she called softly.
As she took two steps back, a hand clamped over her mouth. Her muffled scream caught against a rough palm as her back slammed against a tree, the bark scraped her shoulder making it bleed. His grip was iron, his breath brushing her ear. He gripped her jaw as his eyes ignited like fire beneath a storm. Her breath itched as something pulled inside her. He was unlike any man she'd ever seen. His hair was white as frost and fell over his face. The sun caught in it, giving it the sheen of silver fire. His skin was bronze and marked by battle, his features carved and striking, as if he was born from hell. His molten gold eyes laced with smoke, shifted and glowed with a dangerous life of their own. They looked both furious and haunted. His body went rigid and she gasped in fear. A low, guttural sound escaped his chest, half growl mixed with a groan. He pulled her closer, his hand at the back of her neck and sank his teeth into the curve of her shoulder. She gasped, the pain searing into her like fire laced with lightning. Her vision blurred, her wolf howling in pleasure as warmth spread through her veins.
He didn't let her go.
She clutched her shoulder, trying to break free. The wound pulsed, glowing faintly beneath her skin. "What did you do you mutt? Let me go!"
He cupped her cheeks. "You're my mate." his voice was harsh. "And I don't like mates who curse."
Elara froze. "You, half-tail, wolf claim to be my mate?"
He pushed her against the wall, towering over her. "I will make your death slow, trust me."
And he was gone.
She found Rose at the spring, waiting, eyes wide. "What happened? I've been waiting."
She could only nod once, words caught like stones in her throat. Her legs shook that Rose had to support her all the way back to the women's wing. They reached the carved door and pushed it open together.
Caius was already there. He turned, his face was a mark of fury. He was across the space swiftly. "Get out," he said, turning to Rose. She fled, closing the door behind her with a choked sob.
He moved to her and rippled at sleeves of her gown. The moon bite mark glowed, showing clearly. He struck her on the cheek that sent pain across her body.
"Who marked you?" he snarled, each word a sharpened stone. His fingers closed around the front of her throat before she could draw a breath.
"You whore!" he spat, his voice a low hysteric roar. "You couldn't wait to whore yourself to some rogue in the forest? Do you know what you've done?"
He stepped back and snapped his fingers. The heavy curtains at the window stilled as his men burst in. He pointed at Rose with a casual, dangerous gesture. "Bring her, hold her."
Rose stumbled to the room, but the men seized her at his command. They forced her down and held her fast. He paced in small circles, the corner of his mouth pulled tight. "Confess," he said, each syllable like a lash. "Name him. Tell me who he is, or I'll snap her neck here and now. And when I'm done with you, I'll tell my men to grow fond of your mother."
"I don't know his name."
"You lie." Caius hands came up, crushing down so close that she flinched from the shadow of it. "Tell me, or you will watch your parents die."
"Someone grabbed me," she choked. "He pushed me and took me to the trees. I didn't-" She gasped. "He's a man with white hair. His face was defined and he had a scar."
For a moment, Caius listened. Then, a slow, dreadful smile curled across his face, half triumph, half something more bitter. He stepped back, releasing Elara as if her air has been his to grant.
"So, this is how's going to be, brother? You're back now or what? Where are you hiding?"
He turned to Elara. "Prepare yourself. We're getting married."
Caius did not wait long, he left her chamber with fury, his cloak sweeping the floor behind him. He summoned one of his trusted men into his chambers. Thorn Varek. Tall and severe, Thorn looked like someone like him. More deceitful with a scary look. A square jaw nicked with old scars, cropped dark hair, and eyes like eagle. Where the others flinched before Caius temper, Thorn met it with a cold, calculated steadiness.
"Thorn," Caius voice slid to him, low and measured.
"My lord."
"The rogue is back," he said, each word with care. "Go to the borderlands and find him. Do not fail me. Do it discreetly." He paused, letting the threat hang in the air like smoke. "And while you're at it, check the village for Elara's parents. I need them alive."
Thorn's party did not ride out on horses. They melted as wolves. One by one, at the courtyard's edge, the men slipped from their cloaks and boots, bones creaking as they folded into their other shapes. Fur rose along spines, claws lengthened, and the earth trembled with the weight of bodies that moved like wind through the trees. Their human minds remained, sharp and ordered. The pack threaded the dark like a single thing, noses probing the air, tongues skimming. By the time the sun leaned toward morning, the village lay ahead, too quiet beneath a sky washed pale. The cottage yard told a story before the door opened. Baskets overturned, herbs scattered like a broken offering, a stool thrown aside in the scramble of a frightened household. They slowed, noses high, breaths steaming.
When they slipped into the house, a strong scent hit them like a blade. The hearth still held ash, the bread bowls on the table were scattered about. They found bodies.
Two men lay collapsed by the fire, unnatural and still. The wounds were precise. Their heads ripped off. A silver lay at their sides. It was a if the family vanished from the inside.
Thorn crouched, wolf-nose close to the fallen, flaring as he tested the remnants of fear and blood.
"Spread," he rumbled, and the pack fanned out in soft, efficient lines. Two wolves slipped to the cottage and paused with ears cocked. Jerren stepped forward, nostrils flaring , but Thorn's low warning stopped him. "Not yet," he breathed. "We search. We mark."
"We should let Caius know about this," Jerren said calmly, mouth working. "This is a message."
Thorn closed the space, jaw softening to a controlled snare. "And then what? Your wolf-heads on pikes? Because he won't stop until he has it." his voice pressed like iron. "Swear to hold your tongue until I say otherwise."
Jerren dipped his head in surrender. "I swear," he breathed.
Thorn walked to the dead men and touched the silver on their necks with a careful paw. "We track," he said and the pack ghosted into the trees.