Lucian's POV
I didn't go to Silverfang for a mate.
I went for war.
For control.
To remind the lesser packs who rules this kingdom.
I had no plans to stay longer than needed, strike a treaty, force their loyalty and leave before their stench clung to my coat.
But then… she happened.
The omega.
The broken girl with dirt on her face and too much fire in her eyes.
My mate.
Aria Blackwood.
The name tastes wrong in my mouth.
I shouldn't even remember it.
She is not supposed to exist.
Not with that power.
Not with that mark.
Not with that blood.
But there she was, glowing like the gods had touched her, power pouring from her body like a damn sunburst.
She shattered the ground beneath us with one scream.
Shook the foundation of the entire feast hall.
And now?
Now she is in my dungeon.
In chains.
I stare out the council room window, watching the moon hang low over the palace.
My wolf paces beneath my skin, agitated.
He has been restless since we brought her back.
"She is dangerous," Councilor Bram says, breaking the silence.
"She is unstable," adds Elder Varyn.
"We all saw what she did.
No training.
No control.
That kind of magic should not exist."
"She is an omega," Lady Kira spits.
"Kill her and be done with it."
I turn slowly.
"You think I have not considered that?"
The room quiets.
No one dares meet my eyes.
"She carries the Nightveil crest," I continue.
"Burned into her skin.
She either has royal blood or someone has gone to great lengths to pretend she does."
"She could be a plant," Bram suggests.
"A spy.
A weapon made to look helpless."
I don't answer right away.
Because that is what I thought too.
Until I saw her cry.
Until I saw her confused, broken, begging for answers she didn't have.
No. Aria doesn't know what she is.
That is what makes her even more dangerous.
"She will be interrogated," I say finally.
"But not killed. Not yet."
My wolf growls his approval.
Lady Kira scoffs.
"Don't tell me the mighty Alpha King has gone soft for a pretty face."
My eyes snap to her. "Say that again.
I dare you."
She lowers her gaze. Good.
"Then what do you suggest we do?" Varyn presses.
"Keep her chained forever?"
"Until we know what she is," I say coldly, "we do not let her out of that cell."
I walk into the dungeons an hour later.
The guards bow and unlock the gate without a word.
My boots echo off the stone walls as I move deeper underground.
Her cell is at the very end.
No windows.
No light except for the torch in my hand.
She should be asleep.
She is not.
"Of course she isn't," my wolf mutters.
Then I smell it.
Metal. Burnt.
"Get in there!" I bark.
The guard fumbles with the key and swings the cell door open.
I step inside and freeze.
Her chains are gone.
Melted.
Liquid iron still hisses on the floor, steam rising into the cold air.
She was sitting against the wall, staring at her wrists.
Her skin is untouched.
Not a single burn.
She looks up slowly when she senses me.
"Back for round two?" she says, her voice rough, tired.
I should bark an order.
Should demand how she did it.
Should command her to kneel.
Instead, I just stare.
"You melted solid steel in your sleep," I say.
"I didn't mean to."
"Doesn't matter."
"You going to chain me again?" she asks. "Use silver this time?"
I take a step closer.
"I might."
She does not flinch.
"You are not afraid of me," I mutter.
"I am," she says and it's honest.
"But I am more afraid of myself."
That shuts me up.
Because I believe her.
I glance at her wrists again, then at the sigil that glows faintly on her collarbone beneath her torn shirt.
The royal crest of Nightveil.
My crest.
It should not be on her.
It should not be on anyone except.....
"Why do you have that mark?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "I don't know."
"Don't lie to me."
"I am not," she snaps.
"I found a journal. My mother's.
It said something about a bloodline, a prophecy.
I didn't understand it.
The mark just… appeared."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"You expect me to believe I am your mate?" she shoots back.
Silence.
"I didn't ask for this," she continues, voice softer.
"I didn't want any of it."
Her eyes shine in the torchlight.
And again, I see it.
That broken, burning defiance.
She looks like she could shatter or explode at any second.
I want to hate her.
But my wolf only growls, "Mine."
I turn to leave.
"Wait," she says suddenly.
"Why did you not kill me?"
I glance over my shoulder.
"Still might."
She smiles, sad and bitter.
"At least you are honest."
I return later that night. Alone.
I don't know why.
Maybe to make sure she has not destroyed the walls.
Maybe because I have not slept since I saw her fall unconscious at the feast.
Maybe because I want to understand this thing clawing in my chest every time I think of her.
But I am not alone this time.
Someone's already in the cell.
Laughing.
Her and....
"Ronan," I snarl.
The man leans casually against the wall, half-smiling, dressed in black as always.
He has not changed.
Still arrogant. Still a snake.
Still exiled.
"What the hell are you doing in my palace?"
He shrugs.
"Heard you found something interesting.
Decided to see for myself."
I step into the cell, fists clenched.
"You were banished from Nightveil territory.
You show your face here again, I will have it mounted on a wall."
"You will have to catch me first," he says, amused.
"Besides, you would not want to start a fight in front of her."
He nods toward Aria.
She looks confused.
And way too comfortable with him.
"How do you know him?" I bark.
"I don't," she says quickly.
"He just… appeared."
"I told you," Ronan adds.
"I have a talent for secrets.
And for spotting the pieces you overlook."
He turns to Aria.
"You are more than just a girl with a glowing mark, sweetheart.
You are the prophecy they buried.
The storm they feared."
She looks pale.
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, come on," he says, grinning.
"You really think the gods chose you by mistake? The wolves of old died protecting blood like yours."
"Enough," I growl.
"Get away from her."
Ronan smirks.
"Touchy."
I step forward.
Then the air changes.
Sharp.
Cold.
Wrong.
The torches flicker.
Aria gasps. "What, what's happening?"
The ceiling creaks. Then cracks.
And masked figures drop down, silent, fast, deadly.
Blades flash.
Aimed straight at Aria.