02

The hours in the gilded prison they called a chamber dragged on. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional sound of footsteps outside the door. I sat by the window, watching as the night overtook the sky. The moonlight seemed to mock me, shining high and indifferent to my suffering.

My stepfather had sold me.

Not because he had to, but because he could.

After my mother’s death, he took control of the house—and with it, control over me. His growing debts and taste for expensive liquor had drained everything we had. When the coins ran out, he began searching for alternatives, and I—a young woman with no one to protect her—became the perfect solution.

The deal was made on a night that still echoed in my mind. I had hidden behind the kitchen door, listening to every word exchanged between my stepfather and the king alpha’s men.

“She was born under the full moon, just as you requested,” he said in a casual tone, as if discussing the price of a horse. “Healthy, obedient. She’ll be perfect for what you need.”

The man negotiating with him said little, but the sound of coins hitting the table felt like a punch to my stomach. In exchange for enough gold to cover his debts and sustain his life of indulgence, my stepfather handed me over.

“The king requires a special woman,” said the envoy. “Someone capable of giving him an heir to break the curse. She fits the criteria. But remember, if she fails, the price will be yours.”

My stepfather laughed, as if the threat were insignificant. To him, I was nothing more than dead weight. Another mouth to feed. My mother had been the only thing protecting me, and with her buried, I became disposable.

I was sent to the castle before dawn. No goodbyes. No chance to fight. And now, sitting in this cold, luxurious room, I felt like a piece on a chessboard I didn’t understand.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady and failing miserably.

The door opened to reveal a tall woman with a severe appearance, dressed in an impeccably neat uniform. Her gray hair was tied back in a tight bun, and her sharp gaze took in every detail of me, as if I were a project to be corrected.

“My name is Maela. I am in charge of your needs while you are here,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “The king wishes to see you at dawn.”

“The king?” My voice came out louder than I intended, laced with fear and surprise.

“Yes,” she replied, as if it were obvious. “He needs to evaluate your suitability for the ritual.”

“Ritual?” I repeated, my throat dry.

“It is not my place to explain,” she said, her expression turning even more rigid. “You must rest. Tomorrow will be an important day.”

Before I could ask more questions, Maela turned and left, closing the door firmly behind her.

My mind spun. What did it mean to “evaluate my suitability”? Wasn’t it enough that I had been ripped from my home and sent here like an object? What else could he possibly want from me?

When morning came, I felt even more exhausted. The night had been long and filled with restless thoughts. I washed my face with the cold water left in the basin and put on the simple dress Maela had left on the bed. It was elegant but uncomfortably fitted, as if designed to highlight my vulnerability.

The guards came shortly after and escorted me to the grand hall. Their heavy boots echoed in the corridors, and the feeling of being a prisoner grew stronger with each step.

The hall was even more oppressive during the day. Morning light streamed through the high windows, but somehow the space remained dark and intimidating. I barely had time to absorb the details before he entered.

Kaelor.

The Alpha King.

He walked to the center of the hall as if he owned not just the castle but the entire world. His presence was overwhelming, every step echoing with a force that seemed to vibrate through the floor. My body stiffened as our eyes met, the black abyss of his gaze piercing through the distance between us.

“Is she ready?” Kaelor asked, his cold voice directed at Maela.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied with a slight bow.

Kaelor stepped forward, closing the distance between us. His gaze scanned me, as if dismantling and reconstructing me in his mind.

“Do you understand why you are here?” he asked, his voice low but commanding.

My throat dried, but I managed to murmur, “Yes.”

“Speak,” he ordered, his impatience clear.

“I understand,” I said, trying to sound firm.

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes still locked on mine. “Good. Then there will be no resistance.”

Resistance? What did he mean by that?

But Kaelor had already looked away, satisfied with my answer. He turned to the guards and commanded, “Ensure she is prepared for the ritual. Nothing must go wrong.”

And then he left, his dark cape billowing behind him like a warning.

The ritual was colder and more unsettling than I had imagined.

In a small chamber lit only by torches, I stood surrounded by elders who recited words in an ancient language I didn’t understand. They made me drink a bitter potion that burned my throat and left my stomach heavy.

When one of the elders placed his hands on my head and murmured something that felt like both a blessing and a command, I felt a strange energy course through my body. It was uncomfortable, almost painful, as if something inside me was being shaped against my will.

But I said nothing. I didn’t react.

When it was over, I was escorted back to my chambers, where I finally collapsed onto the cold floor.

The tears I had held back for so long finally came, silent and hot. I didn’t cry just for myself but for the uncertain future that awaited me. For the child I knew they wanted from me.

And in that moment, a quiet determination began to grow inside me. If I was just a piece in their game, then I would use it to my advantage. I would find a way out of this place, to protect the baby I would one day carry.

Kaelor might be the alpha king. He might be powerful. But he would never control my soul.

I would survive. And one day, I would be free.