Rules

Scarlett jolted upright as a bucket of freezing water crashed over her, the shock stealing her breath and drenching her tattered dress, her gasp echoed in the stone chamber as she sputtered, silver hair plastered to her face. Her honey-brown eyes snapped open, blinking against the sting, to find herself slumped on a frigid flagstone floor, surrounded by a cluster of trembling women. They huddled in a shadowed corner behind her, their ragged breaths and tattered garments a mirror of her own degradation. The chamber was a grim cell of damp walls and iron-barred slits, the air thick with the bite of frost and fear. Her wrists burned from rope scars, her body aching from the wagon’s jolting journey, but her gaze sharpened as a woman stepped into the torchlight.

A tall figure strode forward, her boots clicking sharply against the stone—a woman with a warrior’s bearing, her dark hair braided tightly, her emerald eyes cutting through the gloom. “I am Odessa, Beta of Dravonia,” she announced, her voice crisp as a whip’s crack. “You stand in the undercroft of Castle Holgah, beneath the dominion of Alpha Lycan Winter Drayonne, conqueror of five kingdoms.” The women shrank further, but Scarlett’s chin lifted, her bound wrists aching as she met Odessa’s gaze. “The pack’s laws are absolute: obey,” the Beta continued, pacing before them, “or face death. The Lycan has little patience for defiance, and lesser still for fools who test him. His wrath is swift, his mercy nonexistent.” The warning settled like frost on Scarlett’s skin and her pulse thrummed with the weight of her new reality—chained in the heart of Dravonia, beneath the rule of a king whose name alone froze blood, yet beneath her exhaustion, a spark of fire flickered, unquenched.

Odessa’s gaze swept over the shivering women, her expression as unyielding as the stone walls of Castle Holgah. “You begin as Omegas,” she declared, her voice slicing through the damp air. “No matter your station in your old packs, your titles, your ranks, your pasts, princess, warrior, or scribe, they are worthless here, you start at the bottom in Dravonia. Here, you earn your place or you perish.”

The huddle of women shrank further, their eyes wide with dread, but Scarlett’s chin lifted, her silver hair catching the torch’s faint glow as she straightened, her bound wrists twitching with restrained defiance. Odessa continued, pacing with deliberate steps. “The Luna carries the Lycan’s heir, due in two months. Your lives revolve around her and your sole duty is to serve her—tend her needs, guard her comfort, prepare for the child’s arrival, and care for it after. Fail, and you answer to Alpha Winter.” A heavy silence fell, broken only by the drip of water in the corner.

Then Scarlett’s voice, sharp and unafraid, cut through: “And if we refuse?”

The other women gasped, pressing tighter into the shadows, eyes darting to her in terror. Odessa’s head snapped toward her, her emerald eyes narrowing to slits as she turned to the silver-haired newcomer and  closed the distance in two strides, her boots echoing ominously, she leaned in, her voice a low, lethal whisper: “Death.” The threat lingered, sharp as a dagger’s edge above Scarlett’s neck, yet her honey-brown eyes held Odessa’s, unflinching, a flicker of Oshea’s fire daring the Beta and the merciless Alpha beyond.

The Beta snapped her fingers, the sound cracking like a whip through the damp undercroft. Instantly, two stern-faced women entered, lugging sloshing buckets of water and armfuls of coarse washcloths, their boots splashing in the puddles.

“Strip and scrub,” Odessa commanded, her voice brooking no dissent. “Wash the filth from your skins and make yourselves presentable. You will be clean and presentable when you stand before Alpha Lycan Winter within the hour.”

The huddled Omegas flinched as trembling hands fumbled with ragged garments, the air filling with the splash of water and stifled sobs, but Scarlett remained still, her silver hair a stark contrast to her dirt-streaked skin. She remained unmoving, honey-brown eyes locked on the Beta, but Odessa offered no further glance. Turning on her heel, she strode toward the iron-bound door, her braid swinging like a pendulum. At the threshold, she paused, her voice dropping to a cold, deliberate warning that echoed off the stone.

“One more rule—take a lover without the Alpha’s knowledge, and you forfeit your life. All mates are approved by him alone.” The door groaned shut behind her, leaving the women to wash in the silence of the flickering glow, the splash of water and the weight of Dravonia’s iron laws pressing down as Scarlett’s fingers curled into fists, her fire smoldering beneath the threat of an Alpha she had yet to meet.