Captive of the Ice and Flame Wolves

Chapter 1

Ella's POV

I once believed I would become his fated mate.

That thought had burned in my heart like wildfire across the wasteland for eight long years, ever since the day I was selected for the hostage camp at age ten to serve as Kane Argyle's personal attendant—a flame that never once dimmed.

Two great packs—the Silver Moon Pack and the Blood River Pack—had torn at each other's throats in territorial wars for nearly a century. To maintain a fragile peace, both sides were forced to exchange hostages. Kane, the second son of the Silver Moon Alpha, had been sent to Blood River's hellish swamp wasteland at the age of eight. And I, a mixed-blood Omega of unknown origin, had been casually plucked out by the Blood River leader and thrown into the hostage camp to serve this "honored guest."

Serve—the word itself was a mockery. The Blood River wolves knew well that pairing a noble Alpha heir with the lowest Omega servant was itself the greatest humiliation they could inflict upon Silver Moon royalty.

But Kane never saw me that way.

I remember the first time I laid eyes on him—a gaunt boy with disheveled black hair and ice-blue eyes that held a hardness far beyond his years. He was covered in wounds yet stood rigidly straight, as if the entire world owed him something. When the other hostage camp guards mocked me as a "mongrel," he merely swept them with a cold glance and said flatly, "She's mine. Touch her and see what happens."

In that moment, my heart felt seized by something fierce and unyielding.

In the days that followed, we became each other's only refuge in that wasteland. Kane taught me to read, caught fish for me at the frozen lake, stood up for me when other Omegas bullied me. He would sneak out of camp in the dead of night to bring me back a small piece of black bread, grinning as he told me he'd stolen it from the Blood River leader's kitchen. On his birthday, I would risk discovery to build a fire and cook, just so he could have one warm meal.

Our relationship changed on one bitterly cold winter night.

He had developed a high fever, and I stayed by his side through the darkness, pressing cool wet cloths to his burning skin. When the fever finally broke and he woke, he suddenly grasped my hand, fixing me with those ice-blue eyes, his voice hoarse as he said, "Ella, will you perform the mate ceremony with me? I have nothing now, but someday I'll take you away from this godforsaken place."

I had wept uncontrollably, nodding frantically. We completed the ceremony simply under the moonlight—no witnesses, no blessings, only each other. Kane tied a thin vine around my wrist, saying solemnly, "When I return to Silver Moon, I'll give you a true mark."

From that night forward, we became each other's only solace. In that wasteland hell, he was my entire world.

Three months ago, Kane finally turned eighteen.

According to the Blood Truce, he could return to Silver Moon. When he brought me away from Blood River, my heart nearly burst from my chest—I thought the night of marking had finally arrived. I thought I would at last rightfully become his mate.

After returning to the Silver Moon estate, Kane was granted the title of West Wing Lord, and I was placed in the West Wing as his personal attendant. Though my status remained lowly—a surname-less rogue Omega whom the Silver Moon nobles called "that mongrel brought back from Blood River"—Kane's protection kept hope alive in my heart.

Whenever other wolves spoke disrespectfully to me, Kane would glare them down coldly.

Once, when a Beta guard mocked me for "not even having pack scent," Kane immediately twisted the man's arm until it dislocated, warning icily, "Let me hear that again, and next time it won't be just an arm."

This special treatment made my fantasies grow wild and unchecked. I began to believe that perhaps Kane truly would mark me, that perhaps I really could become his Luna.

Just yesterday, the pack's chief warrior, General Marcus, came to visit.

I knew I shouldn't eavesdrop, but when I heard Marcus's rough voice drifting from the study, I couldn't help but pause.

"Lord Kane, keeping such a mongrel from an enemy pack by your side damages your noble status," Marcus's voice carried undisguised contempt. "Why not gift her to the current Alpha heir? She has some beauty—she'd make a fine bed slave, and could serve as our eyes and ears besides."

My heart felt doused in ice water, my fingers clutching the doorframe until they went white. I held my breath, waiting for Kane's response.

Kane was silent for a long time. Then his voice finally came, carrying a possessiveness I recognized: "She's mine. I'm not giving her away."

I nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but Marcus's next words plunged me into a frozen abyss.

"Since you value this Omega so highly, all the more reason to marry Miss Victoria quickly to set matters straight." Marcus paused. "The Alpha has decreed your wedding to the Beta's daughter will be held on the fifteenth of next month. For the sake of your future, this mongrel brought back from Blood River had best be..."

"I know what to do," Kane cut him off, his voice cold as ice. "I'll proceed with the wedding. As for Ella, she stays in the West Wing. She's in no one's way."

I couldn't bear to hear another word. I stumbled backward, fleeing the main house.

So he was to marry Victoria Vane—the warrior commander's daughter, a Beta of noble bloodline. And I was merely a plaything he'd brought back on a whim.

I staggered back to the West Wing servants' quarters, a cramped room I shared with several other Omega maids. Ordinarily, knowing my relationship with Kane, they treated me with deference.

But today, when I pushed open the door, I was met with mocking laughter.

"Well, if it isn't Lord Kane's personal attendant," a red-haired Omega said with saccharine sarcasm. "I hear his lordship is marrying Miss Victoria. Congratulations—you'll be a concubine soon. Oh wait, you won't even count as a concubine, since his lordship has never marked you, right?"

Another Omega chimed in, "She's just a sex toy, that's all. Actually thought she could rise above her station? Look at what you are—a rogue without even a pack, and you dreamed of marrying into royalty?"

"Enough!" I bit out, my voice trembling. "What do you know?"

"What do we know?" The red-haired Omega sneered. "We know our place. Unlike certain people who get bedded for a few years and think they're Luna. Wake up, Ella. You're nothing but an Omega, an unwanted rogue. Lord Kane will tire of you and marry someone of proper standing."

I wanted to argue back but found I couldn't form a single word.

I rushed into my small partition and slammed the door shut, letting the tears pour freely. I curled up in the corner, hugging my knees as Marcus's words echoed endlessly in my mind: "damages your noble status," "enemy mongrel," "bed slave"...

What had I been expecting? That a noble Alpha would mark an Omega of unknown origin? That Kane would sacrifice power and prospects for me?

I had been such a fool.

As night fell, I slowly sank into the warm bathwater. The surface rose past my shoulders, past my neck, nearly swallowing me whole. I closed my eyes, letting the warmth envelop me like returning to a mother's womb.

A tearing pain radiated from my back.

In the mirror, I could see my bare back reflected through the steam—crisscrossing scars, some from whips, some from claws, others from bites. They formed a grotesque web covering my entire back.

All of them left by Kane.

During those years in Blood River, he had loved losing control in our intimate moments. He said it was the only way he could release his pressure, the only time he felt truly alive. I never refused—I even welcomed it.

I had thought this was our unique bond.

But now I understood. I was merely his outlet for lust, an Omega to be used and discarded at will.

I stared at that scarred girl in the mirror and suddenly felt she was a stranger. Who was she? Why did she endure all this? What was she waiting for?

The bathwater gradually cooled, just like my heart.

I knew that from this day forward, I had to accept reality—I would never become Kane's fated mate, would never be marked, would forever be nothing more than an Omega without status or name.