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Chapter Two — Claimed by Claws

The pain didn’t fade when I closed my eyes.

It lived under my skin nowbhot, insistent, threaded through every nerve like fire-wired veins. The bond pulsed between us, a living thing, tugging whenever I breathed, tightening whenever he moved. I could feel him the way you feel a storm before the rain breaks: heavy, inevitable, crushing.

I tried to sit up. Iron chains rattled, biting deeper into my wrists. The sound echoed through the chamber, drawing attention I didn’t want.

Dozens of eyes stared back at me.

Wolves lined the stone hall in semicircles, some human, some not fully shifted muscle too thick, teeth too sharp, eyes too bright. Their scents layered over one another until the air felt wet with it. Dominance. Blood. Curiosity. Hunger.

And fear.

Not mine. Theirs.

He stood at the center like the axis everything else rotated around. Tall. Broad. Impossibly still. His presence filled the space, pressing against my chest until it was hard to breathe. Dark hair brushed his shoulders, untamed as the power rolling off him. His gaze never left my face.

Gold eyes.

My eyes.

The realization hit me sideways, disorienting. I’d seen those eyes before in my dreams, in flashes of memory that never made sense. Seeing them now sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with cold.

“Unchain her,” he said.

The command snapped like a whip. Two wolves moved instantly. The iron loosened, clanking to the floor. I pulled my hands back, rubbing raw skin, bracing myself to bolt.

Nowhere to go.

“Stay,” he said, quieter this time.

The word slid under my skin and curled around my spine. My body froze, muscles locking despite my will screaming to run. Rage flared hot and sharp.

“Don’t do that,” I hissed. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Shock. Offense. More fear.

His brow lifted a fraction. “You can resist.”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how I was doing it only that something inside me reared up at the command, teeth bared, refusing to kneel. The pressure eased. My knees trembled but held.

Interesting indeed.

“Who are you?” I demanded.

He studied me like a puzzle with too many pieces. “Ronan Blackthorn.”

The name hit the room like a dropped blade.

Alpha King.

Even I knew that title. Whispers drifted through human towns sometimes stories told like ghost tales to scare children. The Alpha who ruled multiple territories. The one who ended pack wars by erasing entire bloodlines. The one the Council feared but couldn’t touch.

I laughed, a sharp, brittle sound. “Of course you are.”

His mouth twitched, almost a smile. “And you are mine.”

“No,” I said instantly. “I’m not.”

The bond surged in response, pain spiking until my vision blurred. I gritted my teeth, refusing to scream.

Ronan’s jaw tightened. “You will be treated with respect here.”

“Then let me go.”

Silence fell.

Every wolf in the chamber watched him now, waiting. This wasn’t just about me it was about power, about precedent. Alphas didn’t release mates. Kings didn’t show weakness.

Ronan stepped closer. The heat of him washed over me, intoxicating and terrifying all at once. My wolf my what? stirred, a low thrum of recognition humming through my bones.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Won’t,” I corrected.

His eyes darkened. “You don’t understand the consequences.”

“Then explain them,” I snapped. “Because from where I’m standing, you kidnapped me, chained me to a floor, and declared ownership like I’m an object.”

A ripple of anger rolled through the pack.

Ronan didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “You were trespassing on pack land during a full moon. You awakened without control. You injured one of my wolves.”

“They attacked me.”

“They were ordered to restrain you.”

I scoffed. “By ripping my throat out?”

A flicker of something regret, maybe crossed his face and vanished. “If the Council learns you exist, they will demand your execution.”

The word execution landed heavy and final.

“Why?” My voice came out hoarse. “Because I fought back?”

“Because you are unregistered. Untrained. And powerful.” His gaze sharpened. “Too powerful.”

I swallowed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know enough,” he said. “The bond chose you.”

“That thing is wrong,” I said fiercely, pressing a hand to my chest. “It hurts. It’s not natural.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, answering something deep inside me. “It is the most sacred law we have.”

“Then your laws are broken.”

That did it.

The chamber erupted voices overlapping, tempers flaring. “She defies the bond.” “She’s dangerous.” “Kill her now.” “She’ll bring ruin.”

Ronan lifted a hand. Silence snapped back into place.

“She lives,” he said.

A gray-haired wolf stepped forward, his presence nearly as heavy as Ronan’s. Council, my instincts whispered. Judge. Executioner.

“Alpha King,” the man said, voice tight. “This creature rejects the bond. She struck a pack wolf. She defies command. The laws are clear.”

Ronan’s eyes never left mine. “The laws were written for wolves who knew what they were.”

“And what is she, then?” the Councilor demanded.

Ronan hesitated.

Just for a heartbeat.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

The admission rippled like a crack through ice.

The Councilor’s mouth curved into something cold. “Then she is a threat.”

I straightened, meeting the man’s gaze. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But the moon did.”

Ronan turned back to me. “I will claim you as my Luna.”

Gasps tore through the room.

“What?” I said.

“Claiming grants you protection,” he continued, voice steady despite the shock swirling around us. “You will remain under my authority. Untouchable by the Council.”

“And in return?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“You stay.”

The bond pulsed, almost eagerly.

My stomach twisted. “You want a prisoner with a crown.”

“I want you alive.”

The Councilor’s eyes narrowed. “This is irregular.”

“So am I,” Ronan said flatly. “I will answer for it.”

Silence stretched.

Finally, the Councilor inclined his head. “The Council will observe.”

Ronan nodded once.

It was done.

The wolves began to disperse, whispers following them like smoke. Chains were removed entirely. Someone draped a cloak over my shoulders black, heavy, marked with a silver sigil that burned against my skin.

Claimed.

Ronan offered his hand.

I stared at it like it might bite me.

“Touching you will make this easier,” he said quietly. “For both of us.”

“Or worse,” I shot back.

He didn’t deny it.

I took his hand anyway.

The moment our skin touched, the bond flared bright and blinding. Heat surged through me, but this time it didn’t hurt it settled, grounding, like my bones finally locked into place.

I hated that it felt right.

He led me through stone corridors, past archways carved with wolves and moons and symbols I didn’t recognize. The castle because that’s what it was felt alive, humming beneath my feet. Wolves watched us pass, some curious, some hostile, some bowing their heads.

“Why does everyone look afraid of me?” I asked under my breath.

“Because they should be,” he replied calmly.

That didn’t help.

He stopped outside a chamber guarded by two massive wolves in partial shift. “You will stay here.”

“I’m not your pet,” I said.

“No,” he agreed. “You’re worse.”

He opened the door.

The room beyond was vast high ceilings, arched windows, a bed large enough to swallow me whole. The moonlight spilled across polished floors, bathing everything in silver.

“This is a gilded cage,” I said.

“It’s the safest place in the territory.”

“For you.”

“For you,” he corrected.

I turned on him, anger finally boiling over. “You don’t get to decide my fate.”

His expression hardened. “The moon already did.”

I laughed, sharp and broken. “Then I’ll break it.”

For the first time, Ronan looked unsettled.

He studied me for a long moment, then inclined his head. “Rest. Tomorrow, we train.”

“I’m not training.”

“You are.”

He turned to leave.

“Ronan,” I called.

He paused.

“If I refuse,” I said quietly. “If I never accept this… bond.”

He didn’t look back. “Then this world will try to kill you until it succeeds.”

The door closed behind him with a final, echoing thud.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, shaking.

The moon watched through the window, silent and knowing.

Somewhere deep inside me, something ancient stirred—and it was not afraid.

Not of wolves.

Not of kings.

Not even of fate itself.