Chapter One

Lyra's POV

“Get your hands off me!” I screamed at the guards who seized me as soon as I entered Nightshade Pack's throne room. 

“What the hell is this?” I demanded, fury bubbling inside me as I turned to Randall. His forehead creased with a deep frown as he watched, unmoved, whilst his guards manhandled me under his orders.

“Why am I being arrested? What is this, Randall?”

Randall's eyes flashed in anger as he drew closer to me, scrunching his face. His hands balled into fists by his side and he looked nothing like the man that I had met some hours ago. 

“You'll find out soon enough. Till then, you're going to remain here until I'm done with my plan,” he frowned. “Then I'll decide what to do with you afterwards.”

Plan? What other plan did he have except to get married to me like he promised me before we eloped from my Pack under the watchful eyes of the moon?

My eyes stung with tears as I stood frozen, my legs rooted to a spot, wondering what I did to deserve this. Those grey eyes that overflowed with love back in my Pack now held a cold resentment as he glared at me. 

‘No. This can't be happening. It has to be a dream,’ I whispered to myself. 

But it wasn't just a dream. It was a freaking nightmare — only this one happened in the bright light of morning. 

“But… you said that you loved me. That you couldn't wait to have me by your side. You made me leave my people, Randall. Were those words lies?” I implored, my voice cracking with pain.

“Yes. Yes, they were! I lied to you, alright? And you were stupid enough to believe me,” he snapped, spreading his arms. “I meant none of those words. I don't love you, Lyra and I sure as hell do not want to marry you.”

“Then why am I here? What wrong have I done to you?” 

My lips parted but before I could respond, my attention was pulled to the door by the sharp clicking sound of heels. 

A young lady with long blonde hair that ran down her shoulders walked into the room and went straight to Randall. 

She made her way to Randall and planted a kiss on his cheek which caused my stomach to churn as I scrunched my face at once. 

“Randall, you're back,” she smiled, rubbing the back of his head before turning to face me. “I've missed you so much, darling. Who's this bitch anyway?” 

My hands clenched by my sides, rage simmering inside me and I wished for nothing more than to smack that smug look off her face.  

“This is Lyra, the Princess of the White Moon Pack…”

“The daughter of Alpha Max?”

He nodded. “Come. There's a lot you need to hear,” he said to her before turning to the guards. “Lock her up.”

They walked away, and the guards dragged me from the throne room, but instead of a dungeon, I was thrown into the largest room that I'd ever seen. Damn, was it beautiful? Even my father's chambers paled in comparison to this. 

But as the guards slammed the door shut, my mind snapped back into reality. The soft purple walls, the polished marble floors, the king-sized bed with matching beddings… none of it mattered to me.

I sat on the edge of the bed and slapped my right palm on my face as regret washed over me, sitting still in the deepest part of my heart alongside bitterness and regret.

My blood boiled. My wolf seethed, clawing at my chest as my temper flared with gear pain. Being with my fated mate had always been my dream but alas, it proved to be my greatest undoing.

But why would he bring me here just to have me locked up like a prisoner?

I should have known better than to trust a stranger. I could have chosen to be with Winston, just as my father wanted, but the moment Randall got off his horse as I sat in the garden, all reasoning vanished into thin air. 

His beautiful grey eyes pierced into my soul with every step he took, a confirmation that the Goddess had heard my pleas.

I still remembered that moment — Seated on that pavement, my breath caught in my throat as he stepped down from his horse. His well-chiselled chest and sculpted abs were on full display. I couldn't take my eyes off him. 

And his scent. Oh, Goddess, that alluring scent! A mix of lotus and roses, far stronger than all of the flowers in the garden combined, drifted towards me and wrapped around my senses.

“Mate,” Maya, my wolf, squealed, leaping inside of me as she reached out to his wolf. He's perfect, Lyra.

I had thought so too. I believed I had found the perfect man for me, an escape from my father's suffocating control.

How naive I was… to think that comfort could be found in the arms of a stranger. 

‘To think he even has a wife…’ 

My door creaked open, snapping me out of my spiralling thoughts. Randall walked into the room and without saying a single word, he pulled out the wooden stool beside the table and sat, smirking faintly.

“Who is she… that woman?” I demanded, springing to my feet. “Is this about her? Is she your wife?”

I had a thousand questions but not a single answer. All I wanted was for him to take back all the things he said earlier — to say that he was out of his mind, that he regretted everything. 

I needed an apology. I wanted him to tell me that the woman meant nothing to him and that he only desired me, his fated mate.

But in a flash, he got up and grabbed my neck, squeezing as hard as he could. His eyes turned orange, proving that he was so enraged that his wolf threatened to break free.

“She's everything that you can never be and you must get that into your stupid head,” he growled, his voice dripping with disgust. 

Stupid? Me?

“Then why bring me here?” I asked, tears streaming down my face. If he loved someone else, he should have simply left me in my Pack.

“That's exactly what I came here to tell you,” he said, finally letting go of me before sitting back down. 

I fell back on the bed, minutes gently holding my sore neck with my right hand.  

“I had only ventured into your Pack to spy on it so I could make an informed attack but when I set my eyes on you, I knew exactly what I wanted to do.”

A low chuckle escaped his lips. 

“I wanted to make you suffer, to make you feel the pain that I've lived with for many years. I wanted to make you understand just how it feels to be like me and I will. I promise you.”

His eyes darkened even further with every word that he spoke, the hate in his eyes as clear as the skies.  

“But why?” I asked, shocked to my bones. “What wrong have I done?”

“Not you, Lyra. But your father,” he spat. “He's the reason why you're here.”

Leaning forward, Randall exhaled sharply, casting a vengeful stare at me. 

“You see, our fathers used to be friends,” he began. “For centuries, our Packs have been allies and they kept it that way until your father chose to break that treaty by beheading our men.”

“But there must have been a reason for that,” I interjected. “My father wouldn't do that without a cause.”

“He claimed that they were spies, but they weren't. They all wore our red bands. When my father confronted him, he apologised for it and agreed to pay a fine.”

His voice deepened. “But instead, what we received was the murder of my parents in cold blood.”

“That's not possible. My father would never do that. He's not a murderer,” I said in his defence. “Besides, how could you be certain that it was him?”

“Oh. Maybe because I was in the Palace when it happened?” He sneered, raising a brow.

“They had just returned from a meeting with the Caelin Pack. Your father was there too. He came back with my father. But as they headed back to the throne room, they were attacked by Rogues. Do you know what your father did?”

He leaned closer. “He turned on us. He stabbed my parents in the back and fled like a coward. When I got outside, the guards confirmed that it was him.”

I was torn inside, unable to believe a word he said despite the sincerity in his voice. 

“No,” I whispered. “There has to be more to this. My father… he wouldn't — he couldn't have done that.

His fury blew over and he lunged at me, yanking me from the bed and slamming me hard on the wall. His hand clamped around my neck, his grip tightening as his eyes went completely black.

“I will lure your people here and destroy all that stands in my way until I get to your father,” he threatened menacingly. “When I find your father, I'll make him suffer so much that he'll beg for death. I'll give it to him, slow and painful and you'll watch every bit of it.”

“No. Randall. Please,” I gasped, struggling to break free from his grip.

“It's a bit too late for that,” he snarled, his lips brushing my ear. “You and your mother will wail before your father's corpse and then you'll know how it feels to lose everything.”

He finally let go and I fell to the ground, coughing profusely and gasping for breath.

“Please… For the sake of our bond, reconsider…” I pleaded, grabbing at his leg as he tried to walk away n

“Our bond?” He scoffed, yanking his leg free with a kick that flung my hands aside. “It means nothing to me. I cannot be mated with a murderer’s daughter.”

He crouched low, meeting my pleading eyes. 

“I, Randall Denzel, reject you, Lyra Max, as my mate.”