Chapter 2

The forest blurred around me as Darren dragged me forward, his fingers like iron bands around my upper arm. I dug my heels into the dirt, but it was useless, he was too strong, his body a wall of strong muscle forged in whatever hellish exile had twisted him into this.

We finally broke into the main clearing near the ruins, where the slaughter had been worst. His warriors were already gathered. I looked at the dead bodies of my pack and tears formed more in my eyes. The survivors, what few there were, knelt in a ragged line, bound with rough ropes and guarded by hulking outcasts whose eyes gleamed with feral hunger. Nyra was among them, her face bruised but defiant, her gaze locking onto mine with raw anguish.

Darren yanked me to a stop at the center of the clearing, right beneath the ancient stone altar where my father had once held court. He shoved me down hard onto my knees in the mud and blood. I tried to rise, but his hand fisted in my hair, forcing my head back so I had to look up at him.

“Hear me, all of you!” he bellowed and the savage outcasts and rogue beasts straightened at the sound. “This is Lyra, daughter of the fallen Alpha. The last remnant of the old regime that cast me out, that branded me traitor, that tried to erase me.”

Murmurs rippled through his ranks. Some laughed and others watched with hungry curiosity.

He tightened his grip in my hair, pulling until my scalp burned. I bit back a whimper.

“She is no longer a princess of this pack,” Darren continued, his ocean-blue eyes sweeping over the survivors before returning to me. “She is my prisoner. My war prize. Every right she once held, status, respect, protection is stripped. She belongs to me now, to use as I see fit. A living reminder of what happens to those who defy me.”

Humiliation scorched through me hotter than any wound. I could feel the eyes of his warriors devouring me filthy, trembling on my knees before their new conqueror. One of them spat near my feet and another smirked openly.

“Darren…” I whispered, voice breaking. “Please…”

He ignored me, addressing the bound survivors next. “Look at your precious Alpha’s daughter. On her knees where she belongs. Any who still cling to hope of rebellion, remember this sight. She will serve as my trophy. She will learn her place beneath me, in every way.”

A coarse laugh erupted from the ranks. Someone shouted, “Break her, Alpha!” Another called out suggestions that made bile rise in my throat. They were all cruel, degrading words.

Darren’s lips curved into a cold, humorless smile as he looked down at me. His free hand traced my jaw almost possessively, thumb smearing a streak of blood across my cheek. “You wanted to run from me, Lyra. Now you’ll walk beside me in chains, paraded before what’s left of your people. Every step will remind them who rules now.”

He released my hair only to grab my wrist and haul me upright again. I swayed on my feet, dizzy with grief and shame. Nyra lunged against her bonds, but a guard painfully struck her down.

“Take the survivors to the cages,” Darren ordered his men. “Let them watch their former princess learn humility.” He added.

As rough hands from his warriors shoved the kneeling pack members away, Darren pulled me close against his side, one arm locked around my waist then whispered in my ear.

“This is only the beginning of my revenge, little wolf. I won’t kill you. That would be too kind. You’ll live every day knowing you’re mine, broken, claimed, and displayed for all to see.”

I trembled in his hold, tears cutting clean paths through the grime on my face. 

He began walking, dragging me along with him toward my dead father’s quarters, his warriors falling in behind us like a triumphant procession. Every step was a fresh cut to my pride. The stares burned and the whispers followed.

“Pretty little prize you’ve got there, Alpha.”

“Bet the spoiled princess never thought she’d end up on her knees for us.”

I kept my eyes forward, jaw clenched so tightly it ached, but the words sank into me like thorns.

Eventually, we reached one of the rooms in my father’s quarters, now claimed by Darren. He finally released me only to push me toward a side chamber where two of his female outcasts waited.

“Undress that gown and make her wear those rags”, he ordered coldly. 

They descended on me without mercy. My torn, once-fine gown, the deep green silk embroidered was ripped away piece by piece. I stood shivering as they tossed it into the fire. In its place, they threw me a plain, coarse linen shift the color of dirt. It hung loose and shapeless on my frame, scratching against my skin, the hem ragged and uneven.

There was no symbols of power, just the clothing of a servant… or a slave.

Darren watched the entire time from the doorway, arms crossed. When they were done, he gave a curt nod.

“Better. Now drag her to the meeting”

He didn’t give me a moment to breathe. His warriors hauled me out of the side chamber and straight into the main hall, where his forces were already assembling. The meeting had been called on the spot, no delay and no approval from me. Torches sputtered along the walls, casting flickering shadows over the gathered wolves and others creatures.

My bare feet stung against the cold stone as the warriors marched me up to the dais and positioned me to the right of my father’s throne, a place where I was visible to everyone while dressed up like a slave.

“Stand there. Silent,” Darren commanded then walked out.

The heavy doors of the hall thudded shut behind him, leaving me standing alone on the dais like a statue of shame.