The slap landed like lightning.
Pain burst across my cheek, bright and metallic. My head snapped to the side, and for a dizzy moment the world tilted. I caught myself on the floor, breath shallow, heart hammering against my ribs.
“Look at me when I’m speaking to you, wolf-less freak.”
Selene Thorne towered over me, her voice sweet enough to rot teeth. She glanced down at the red wine staining her white silk heels the same heels she had deliberately tripped me with moments ago.
“You’ve ruined them, Lyra. Do you have any idea how much they cost?”
I pushed my raven hair out of my eyes and kept my voice steady. “I’ll bring a cloth, Luna.”
Her laugh rang out, light and cruel. “A cloth? No. You’re not even a wolf. You’re just a stray. Kneel and lick it clean.”
The entire hall went silent.
I felt every eye on me. The spark of defiance that had survived years of bruises and mockery flared hot in my chest. Slowly, I lifted my chin and looked her straight in the face.
“No.”
Selene’s expression darkened. Her claws slid out with a soft click. She raised her hand.
Then, just as quickly, her face crumpled into perfect tears. She stumbled back as if I had struck her. “Lyra, please… I only asked you to be careful.”
Before I could react, a heavy wave of power rolled over the room. Deep. Commanding. Unmistakable.
Alaric.
He stepped forward, tall and imposing in his ceremonial furs. Selene immediately pressed herself against his side, sobbing softly into his shoulder.
“She attacked me, Alaric,” she whispered. “She’s jealous because the Moon Goddess chose me as your mate instead of her.”
Alaric’s dark eyes met mine. For the briefest second, something familiar flickered there, the boy who once snuck out with me to watch the stars, the one whose hand used to feel warm and safe in mine. Then the softness vanished, replaced by cold authority.
“Apologize, Lyra,” he said, his voice carrying the full weight of an Alpha’s command.
The power pushed down on me, heavy and relentless, trying to force me to my knees. My legs shook. My spine screamed. But I locked my muscles and stayed upright.
“I did nothing wrong,” I answered quietly.
His jaw tightened. “It is Alpha Alaric to you. Kneel and apologize to your Luna, or you will face pack law for assaulting royal blood.”
The pressure increased, crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. Around us, others dropped to the floor. I remained standing, trembling but unbroken.
Alaric’s eyes flashed with shock, then raw anger. “If you want to be difficult, then you can be useful instead.”
He turned to the Elders seated nearby, his voice ringing clear and final.
“The harvest has failed. The Royal Court demands tribute. The Alpha King needs a Soother to quiet his curse.”
A ripple of fear moved through the hall. Everyone knew the stories of Kaelen Draven, the Ravager. Women sent to him never returned whole.
Selene’s tears disappeared in an instant. A sharp smile curved her lips. “Perfect. Send her. She contributes nothing here. At least her life can serve the pack this way.”
Alaric looked at me again. This time, regret ghosted across his face, brief and pained, before he buried it. “Guards. Take her to the dungeons. In three days, she will be delivered to the Obsidian Citadel.”
Strong hands grabbed my arms and pulled me away. As we passed Selene, she leaned in close, her voice low and venomous.
“Don’t bother crying. If you try to run, Mira dies. You’re going to the Ravager, Lyra. And you’re going to die there. Finally, I’ll get rid of you.”
The iron door of the cell slammed shut behind me with a sound that echoed like finality.
I sat in the darkness, cheek throbbing, body aching from exhaustion and fresh hurt. The silence pressed in, thick and heavy.
But then, deep in my chest, something began to stir.
A low, steady rhythm, warm and persistent. Almost gentle.
It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t painful.
It felt like a long-forgotten promise waking up after years of silence.
In the quiet dark, that something answered with a soft, rumbling growl.