Chapter 2

AURELIAN

The first thing I noticed was the silence.

It wasn’t the absence of sound—wolves moved beyond the bars of my cage, their boots crunching against the dirt, their heavy breathing filling the air—but it was the kind of quiet that came right before a storm. A slow, simmering shift in the world, waiting to break.

The second thing I noticed was the scent.

It started as something faint, barely staying through the filth and dried blood clinging to my skin. But then it thickened enough that I was able to smell it, pressing against my senses, curling around my lungs and sinking into my bones. It was suffocating—wrong. The men outside the cage paused mid-step, their movements stuttering, heads snapping toward me as if I had spoken.

Their eyes glowed.

One. Then two. Then all of them.

The gold of their irises burned in the dark, a sick, hungry gleam that made my stomach twist. Then, the quiet shattered. I heard the way their breathing changed, the way their fingers flexed as if testing the strength of their own restraint.

For the first time, fear crawled up my spine.

I took a step back, but there was nowhere to go. Cold iron met my skin, pressing against the exposed flesh of my shoulders, and I clenched my jaw.

Then the first one moved.

A soldier—one of Vael’s, judging by the dark insignia stitched into his torn shirt—staggered forward as if some kind of pull had yanked him by the throat. His lips parted, chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

“Mine.”

The word came out guttural.

Something inside me turned to ice.

Another soldier twitched, then another, their bodies locking up as their pupils dilated. Their gazes burned into me, and I could see the moment reason slipped away. The slow shift of thought, replaced by something primal, something instinctual.

A low growl rumbled from the back of one man’s throat.

Then they came.

The first hit the bars hard, fingers curling around them as his chest heaved, his breath fogging in the cool air. The second wasn’t far behind, shoving him aside as he tried to squeeze through the gaps. The scent in the air turned thick—mixing with heat and desperation, with something far worse than hunger.

They weren’t trying to kill me.

They were trying to fuck me.

Panic shot through my ribs. I turned, bracing for an opening, for some weak point in the rusted bars, but they were everywhere. Hands shoving, clawing, pushing to get through. A snarl snapped behind me, and I flinched just as the iron bent under the force of someone’s grip. The sound of metal warping sent a spike of dread through my gut.

This wasn’t just a loss of control.

This was madness.

A deep, guttural voice cut through it all.

“What the fuck is going on?”

The wolves froze.

A shadow moved beyond the firelight, pushing through the mass of bodies.

Vael.

He stepped into the flickering glow, his face twisted with anger. But then he inhaled.

And the world stopped.

His pupils blew wide, his breath caught in his throat. The firelight hit the gold in his irises, and for a single, terrible moment, I saw the same madness reflected in them.

No.

Not him.

I clenched my fists, willing my body not to tremble as he took another step forward. His nostrils flared, his lips parting slightly as if he was tasting the scent on the air. The same scent that had driven his men to the brink.

His expression twisted.

Then he moved.

In a flash, his arm lashed out, striking the closest wolf and sending him flying into the dirt. Another lunged, half-mad with instinct, and Vael grabbed him by the throat, slamming him back against the bars of the cage with enough force to make my teeth rattle.

“Control yourselves.”

The man choked, fingers clawing at Vael’s grip, his glowing eyes flickering to me and back to his Alpha.

“Now.”

A beat passed. Then another.

One by one, the wolves staggered back, their bodies shuddering, muscles locking tight as they fought against whatever madness had taken hold of them. Vael’s grip tightened once more before he released the soldier, letting him drop to the ground, gasping.

Silence filled the space once more.

But then—

“He has cursed us.” One of them said as he spat on the ground.

Another let out a sharp breath. “This is black magic. A trick. He’s bewitched us—”

“He’s done something! No omega—no man—should smell like this!”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group. Some of them looked at me with buring anger, others with something far worse—arousal. The thick scent of lust clung to the air, choking even to my human senses.

Vael turned slowly, his golden gaze burning, teeth gritting against eachother enough for me to hear. Then, in a blur of movement, he was at the cage.

I barely had time to react before his hand shot through the bars, fingers wrapping around my throat. He yanked me forward, slamming my body into the cold iron. Pain shot through my ribs, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

His grip tightened.

His face was inches from mine now, golden eyes searing into me. “Is it true?” His voice was a growl, low and too dangerous. “You have bewitched us with black magic?”

Us.

He didn’t even realize he was including himself.

The amusement was quick, curling through my chest even though I had no idea of what he spoke of. I let out a slow breath, forcing my lips into something close to a smirk.

“Maybe your men just haven’t been laid in a long time.” My voice was hoarse but steady enough for him to hear. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

A deep silence followed.

Then Vael’s grip tightened enough to make my vision blur. His lips curled into something between a sneer and a snarl. “Maybe I should have let them have their way with you.” His tone was deadly calm. “Maybe that would have kept that mouth shut.”

A chill ran through me, but I forced myself to hold his gaze. We both knew it wouldn’t happen. Not while I was his prisoner. Not while I saw in his eyes that he thought I was his.

His jaw flexed. His fingers twitched—then, suddenly, he let me go, shoving me back against the cage. I sucked in a breath, rubbing my throat as he turned on his men.

“We move now,” he commanded. “Back to Velmir.”

The name echoed through the camp, and even through the haze of lust and anger, the soldiers obeyed. They gritted their teeth, turning away, forcing themselves to focus on packing up the camp.

But as Vael stepped back toward his tent, I saw the way they watched me.

The hunger hadn’t faded.

Some of them were still cursing under their breath, their hands clenched into fists. Others shot me one last glance, their gazes clouded. But it was the man standing near the edge of the camp that caught my attention.

Unlike the others, he wasn’t staring at me.

He was glaring at Vael.

And the moment his gaze flickered to me, the man turned, walking away.