Chapter 1

AURELIAN

Smoke filled the shattered halls of my father’s palace. The scent of burning wood and spilled blood filled the air, untill it was suffocating, tightening, pressing into my lungs like ropes. I stepped over the corpse of a guard, his lifeless eyes staring at nothing, his sword still clutched in his stiffening fingers. He had fought to the last breath, but it hadn’t been enough. It never would have been.

The kingdom had already fallen.

The sound of battle had faded to an still silence, broken only by the crackle of flames licking at the tapestries and the far cries of the dying. I knew without looking that my father was among them. The throne he had spent his life defending lay abandoned behind me, its gold stained crimson, its ruler gone.

He had been a cruel man, but he had been mine. And now he was dead.

Boots echoed through the ruined chamber, but I did not move. I turned slowly, the heaviness of iron shackles biting into my wrists, my breath coming steady despite the danger that surrounded me

The wolves had come.

They filled the space, a suffocating wall of muscle and sneers. Dark glowing eyes gleamed in the firelight, their expressions ranging from hunger to triumph. They reeked of victory, of conquest.

And at the center of them stood him.

Vael.

He was taller than the others, broader, his presence wrapping around the room like command itself. I hated it.

He did not move like a man who had fought for his place—he moved like a king who had been born into it. Cold silver eyes locked onto mine, face blank, jaw clenched, and in his hand, his sword gleamed with fresh blood.

He stepped forward, and the wolves parted for him without hesitation.

I held my ground.

He said nothing as he approached, the blade of his sword lowering until the tip pressed lightly against my throat. The metal was cool against my burning skin, but it did not scare me.

I knew how this would go.

I would not beg.

I would not kneel.

I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing fear in my eyes.

Vael studied me for a long moment, his expression the same. The sword didn’t waver.

Then, without a word, he lowered it.

“Take him,” he said.

Hands seized me immediately, yanking me back, forcing me to my knees. Chains rattled, tightening around my neck, my ankles.

I did not resist.

But as they dragged me from the throne room, I lifted my chin, meeting Vael’s gaze one last time.

I wanted him to know that no matter what he did to me—no matter how many chains he wrapped around my throat—I would never break.

Not for him.

Not for anyone.

They dragged me through the ruined corridors of my home, my boots scraping against stone slick with blood. The fires had spread, devouring the walls, licking hungrily at the banners that once bore my family’s crest. The same crest was still pressed against my chest, embroidered into the fabric of my tattered cloak, but it meant nothing now.

The kingdom was lost.

Outside, the night was filled with smoke. The air carried the stench of death, of burnt flesh and spilled entrails. Bodies lined the courtyard, some still twitching, some already cooling. The remaining guards had been forced to their knees, their hands bound behind their backs, heads bowed beneath the watchful gazes of Vael’s wolves.

A fresh wave of hatred burned through me.

I had spent my life preparing to rule, studying politics, strategy, war. I was meant to take my father’s place. Yet here I stood, bound like a prisoner, waiting for whatever cruel fate they had in store for me.

I was shoved forward, my knees slamming into the cold earth. I gritted my teeth, refusing to make a sound.

From the steps above, Vael watched me. He had yet to sheathe his sword, the blade still slick with the blood of my people.

“You’re quiet,” he said finally.

I held his gaze. “Would you rather I weep?”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. The wolves around him shifted, some chuckling, others watching in silence, waiting to see what he would do.

Then, to my surprise, he sheathed his sword.

"Take him to the cages."

The words should have filled me with dread, but they only fueled my anger. Cages were for animals. For prisoners of war, for traitors, for people like him—not for a prince.

But that was what I was now.

Not a ruler. Not an heir.

A prisoner.

They did not take me to the dungeons of my kingdom. That would have been too kind.

Instead, they led me to the lower grounds, past the ruins of the outer walls, to where the wolves had set up their encampment. Fires burned in iron pits, casting flickering shadows across the makeshift tents and bloodied weapons. The scent of raw meat and wet fur filled in the air. Wolves—some fully shifted, some still human—prowled through the camp, their eyes flashing as they watched me being dragged through the dirt.

The cages were near the center. Large, iron-barred things, designed to hold creatures stronger than any normal man.

They threw me inside without ceremony.

I hit the ground hard, the impact jolting through my bones. The door slammed shut behind me, then the lock clicking into place.

I did not move.

Lying in the dirt of my father’s fallen kingdom, shackled like a beast, I could have let despair take hold of me. Could have cursed the gods, cursed my father for his arrogance, cursed myself for not seeing this attack coming.

But I did none of those things.

I only stared at the sky.

The stars were clear tonight, their light bright and far. Somewhere beyond them, the gods watched, amused by the suffering below. I gritted my teeth.

Let them watch.

They would not see me break.

———

I did not know how long I lay there, unmoving. Long enough for the fires to burn lower, for the camp to settle into a restless quiet.

Long enough for him to come.

I heard the approaching footsteps before I saw him. Heavy, measured, unhurried. A shadow fell across the bars of my cage, and then Vael crouched before me, one arm resting on his knee as he studied me through the iron.

“Your father is dead,” he said, voice calm.

I did not react.

He tilted his head slightly. “And your kingdom belongs to me.”

Still, I said nothing.

A flicker of something passed through his expression. Annoyance? Amusement? I couldn’t tell.

“You don’t seem surprised,” he remarked.

I finally shifted, my wrists aching as I pushed myself up to sit. “I’m not.”

Vael’s silver eyes remained fixed on me, searching. “No begging. No empty threats. You’re handling this better than most.”

“Would you like me to scream?” I asked coolly. “Plead for my life?”

He didn’t answer.

I leaned forward slightly, the chains clinking. “If you’re looking for a broken prince, you won’t find one here.”

For a moment, there was only silence between us. The campfires crackled, distant laughter and howls filling the night air.

Then, Vael did something I did not expect.

He smiled.

It was not a kind smile. It was a controlled, jaggered smile filled with something dangerous that had my stomach tightening.

“No,” he murmured, standing. “I don’t think I will.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving me in the dark.

Leaving me to wonder why the Alpha beast, who had just taken everything from me, looked at me as if he had only just begun.