Chapter 2 Chapter 2

“Wake up.”

A voice jolted me from my sleep.

My eyes fluttered open, but I immediately squeezed them shut again when a blinding light streamed through the doorway. After spending what felt like an eternity in darkness, the sudden brightness was almost painful. It was like staring directly into the entrance of heaven.

For one terrifying second, I wondered if I was dying.

I squinted against the brightness and slowly opened my eyes. A large man-shaped shadow was striding toward my cell, his figure blocking most of the light behind him. My heart immediately began pounding.

I retreated to the farthest corner of the tiny space, pressing my back against the cold stone wall as if it could somehow protect me. My hands trembled as I watched him approach.

I glanced around the cell, desperately searching for something I could use as a weapon. There was nothing. Just cold stone, metal bars, a thin layer of dirty straw in one corner, and the occasional rat scurrying along the wall.

I was definitely in a dungeon.

It was dark, cold, damp, and filthy. The air smelled of moisture, rust, and something unpleasant that I didn’t want to identify. Rats seemed to have made the place their home, constantly scurrying around in search of food.

The large man stopped outside my cell.

I held my breath.

He pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, and the metallic jingle echoed through the dungeon. I watched as he selected one and pushed it into the lock.

Click.

The sound made my stomach twist.

This was it.

Whatever was going to happen to me was about to begin.

The door swung open.

I immediately pressed myself farther into the corner, but there was nowhere else to go. The man stepped inside and reached for me.

“Please don’t hurt me!” I cried.

His hand closed around my left arm.

He yanked me to my feet so suddenly that I nearly fell forward. Pain shot through my injured eye, and I cried out as I struggled to keep my balance.

“Please!”

He didn’t answer.

He simply dragged me toward the doorway.

I fought against him instinctively, but it was useless. His grip was like iron around my arm. I clawed at his hand, trying to make him release me, but he barely seemed to notice.

My fingernails scraped against the hard stone floor as he dragged me out of the cell. The rough ground tore at my skin, and I winced as fresh blood appeared beneath my nails.

“Stop!” I begged. “Please, just stop!”

He kept walking.

I didn’t know where he was taking me.

I didn’t know what was waiting for me.

And somehow, that uncertainty was worse than anything else.

Then, all of a sudden, the darkness disappeared.

Sunlight hit my face.

I froze.

Warmth spread across my skin, and I blinked repeatedly as my eyes struggled to adjust. After so long trapped underground, the sunlight felt almost unreal.

I was outside.

Actually outside.

My feet touched damp grass, and I stood there for a moment, staring at the world around me.

Trees surrounded us, their leaves moving gently in the breeze. Birds chirped somewhere overhead, and the fresh scent of grass filled my lungs. There was no smell of blood or stone or mold.

For a brief second, I forgot where I was.

Then I remembered.

These were werewolves.

I scanned my surroundings, desperate for an escape route.

The forest stretched in every direction. There were trees everywhere, but I couldn’t tell which way led away from the castle or the dungeon. I could run, but where would I go? I didn’t know the territory, and even if I managed to escape this man, there were probably dozens of werewolves nearby.

Still, the thought of freedom was tempting.

My body shifted slightly.

“Don’t even think about running away.”

The man’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

I stopped immediately.

He looked down at me, his expression warning enough to make my blood run cold.

“This will all be easier if you cooperate.”

I swallowed and nodded.

He finally released my arm.

I rubbed the sore spot where his fingers had dug into my skin and studied him carefully.

He had short, curly dark brown hair and was incredibly tall, maybe six-foot-five. His body was a mass of muscles, and even beneath his simple clothing, I could see how powerful he was.

He was a giant.

There was no way I could fight him.

I couldn’t outrun him either.

Even if I had somehow managed to get away from him, there was no guarantee I would survive the forest. I had spent years learning how dangerous the woods could be. One wrong turn could put me directly in the path of a hunting pack.

So I followed him quietly.

As we walked, I tried to take in my surroundings without making it obvious that I was studying the territory.

Everything felt wrong.

It looked peaceful.

Too peaceful.

The sun was shining through the trees, birds were singing, and the wind carried the smell of flowers. Nothing about the place looked like the nightmare I had imagined when O’zaak told me I was trapped in a lycan’s dungeon.

But I knew better than to trust appearances.

After everything I had seen, I knew that beautiful things could hide terrible secrets.

We walked for about fifteen minutes through the forest in silence. My feet were sore, and every step made me aware of the exhaustion still weighing down my body. I hadn’t eaten properly in days, and my body felt weak.

Eventually, the trees began to thin.

That’s when I saw it.

I stopped walking for half a second.

A massive white castle stood ahead of us.

It was enormous, far larger than anything I had seen since the world ended. Towering walls rose into the sky, and several pointed rooftops could be seen above them. Smaller buildings surrounded the main structure, all connected by stone pathways.

I had never seen anything like it.

Before the outbreak, I’d seen castles in pictures and movies. They had always seemed like something from another world, something that belonged in history books.

But this was real.

And people actually lived here.

As we approached, I noticed there were people everywhere.

Werewolves.

They walked along the pathways, carrying baskets, talking to each other, laughing, and going about their day as though the world outside hadn’t collapsed.

A woman walked past us carrying what looked like fresh bread. Two men stood near one of the buildings, arguing playfully about something. Children ran across the grass, laughing as they chased each other.

I stared at them.

How could they live like this?

The world outside was broken. Humans were hiding in abandoned buildings and forests, starving and terrified of being hunted. Entire cities had been destroyed. Families had been torn apart.

Yet these people were living as if nothing had happened.

Their unearthly beauty gave away their werewolf nature. Almost everyone I saw looked like they belonged on the cover of some impossible magazine. Their features were too perfect, their bodies too strong, their movements too graceful.

I suddenly became self-conscious about my appearance.

My clothes were torn and dirty. My hair was probably a complete mess. My face was still stained with dried blood, and my injured eye throbbed every time I blinked.

Compared to them, I looked like something that had crawled out of the forest.

No one paid me much attention at first, but as we passed, a few of them glanced in my direction.

Some stared.

Others quickly looked away.

Their reactions made me uncomfortable.

It was as if they already knew what I was.

A human.A prisoner.

Prey.

I lowered my eyes and continued walking.

It had been ages since I’d been somewhere this grand. I’d almost forgotten that people lived like this before everything happened. There had once been beautiful homes, clean streets, warm beds, stocked kitchens, and people who could wake up without worrying about being eaten.

The world was now a shadow of its former self.

Yet here these werewolves were, living as if everything were perfect.

Better than perfect.

They had everything humans had lost.

We entered what appeared to be a massive living room, and I immediately understood that whoever lived here was clearly wealthy.

Every piece of furniture and every item in the room screamed luxury. Large couches surrounded a polished wooden table, while elegant lamps hung from the ceiling. The walls were painted a pleasant peach color and adorned with paintings of beautiful roses and wolves.

The man continued walking, but now that we were inside and there was no one else around, I stopped.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

He stopped and looked back at me.

“I don’t need to tell you that, human,” he sneered.

“Unless you plan on carrying me the rest of the way,” I retorted, “then yes, you do.”

For the first time, his expression changed.

It wasn’t quite amusement, but there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

Maybe he hadn’t expected me to talk back.

I hadn’t expected it either.

Fear had been controlling me since I woke up in that cell, but I was beginning to realize that if I let it control every decision I made, I would be dead soon.

The man sighed.

“Listen, human. I don’t know what’s going to happen to you, and honestly, I’m not the one who makes these decisions.”

“Then who does?”

“I’ve just been told to bring you to the servant quarters.”

“The servant quarters?”

I stared at him.

“What am I supposed to do there?”

“That isn’t my problem.”

My stomach tightened.

“Who does make the decisions then?”

He paused.

For some reason, that hesitation frightened me.

He looked away before finally answering.

“The King.”

The word echoed in my mind.

“Our Alpha,” he added.

The room suddenly felt much colder.

My heartbeat quickened.

The room started to spin.

I reached for the nearest piece of furniture to steady myself.

My fate was in the hands of a stranger.

Not just any stranger.

A king.