First Night in Bloodveil

The guards dragged me down stone corridors that smelled of smoke, sweat, and iron. My chains clinked with every step, echoing through the silence like a warning bell. I kept my head low, but my senses were sharp, memorizing every turn, every locked door, every exit.

This was Cain’s den. His fortress. His cage.

And I had just walked willingly inside.

The bond burned beneath my scar, throbbing harder the deeper I went. My wolf whimpered, restless, sensing him even when he wasn’t near. I clenched my jaw, pushing the pull down as far as I could.

I would not give in.

The guards finally shoved me into a chamber at the far end of the hall. The room was bare, just a narrow cot, a wooden basin, and a single barred window that let in the cold night air.

“This one’s special,” one of the guards muttered, smirking. “Alpha says she stays.”

“Special,” the other scoffed. “She looks half-dead already. Probably won’t survive the night.”

They laughed and slammed the door shut behind them.

The lock clicked.

Silence fell.

I exhaled slowly, sinking onto the cot. My wrists burned where the chains had rubbed raw. My body ached from days of running. But exhaustion couldn’t drown out the rage simmering inside me.

I was in Bloodveil now. Inside Cain’s world.

And already, I hated it.

The night stretched on.

I lay on the cot, staring at the ceiling, forcing myself to listen. The fortress was alive, even in darkness. Boots thudded down corridors. Wolves howled in the distance, their voices carrying across the walls. Laughter echoed faintly from another hall, guards drinking, celebrating, living without fear.

While my pack rotted in the earth.

My fists clenched. My nails dug into my palms until I felt blood.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shift and tear through every wall until I reached him. Until I ripped his throat out with my own teeth.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

Patience.

I had to be smarter than that.

I rose quietly, padding to the barred window. The cold moonlight spilled across my scar, silver against pale skin. Beyond the walls, the forest stretched in darkness. Somewhere out there, my pack’s ashes still lingered.

Somewhere out there, Cain had smiled as he ended me.

I pressed my forehead against the iron bars, the night air biting at my skin.

“Moon Goddess,” I whispered, though I hated her for binding me to him. “If you brought me back just to chain me to my enemy… then I’ll break every chain myself.”

My wolf stirred, uneasy. She wanted to speak, but I shut her out. I couldn’t bear her weakness. Not now.

Footsteps broke the silence. Heavy. Familiar.

My heart lurched.

Cain.

The pull of the bond surged, making my scar throb. My knees nearly buckled. I forced myself upright, breathing slowly, masking my face in shadow as the lock on the door scraped open.

He stepped inside.

The room seemed to shrink around him.

Cain filled the doorway with his presence alone, broad shoulders, sharp eyes glinting in the moonlight, every movement controlled, lethal. He didn’t wear armor now, just dark trousers and a loose shirt, but it didn’t make him less dangerous. If anything, it made him look more human. And that was worse.

I hated that I noticed.

His gaze swept the room, landing on me. My stomach twisted under the weight of it.

“You’re still awake,” he said. His voice was calm, steady. The same voice that had sentenced packs to death.

I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Hard to sleep in chains.”

One brow lifted slightly, as if amused. He stepped further inside, and the air thickened. My wolf stirred restlessly, whining at his closeness.

I shoved her down.

Cain’s gaze lingered on my wrists, raw and bruised from the shackles. For a moment, his expression shifted, something unreadable flickered there. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You should rest,” he said. “Tomorrow, you’ll prove if you belong here.”

Belong. The word made bile rise in my throat.

I kept my tone even. “And if I fail?”

His lips curved faintly, not a smile, but close. “Then you’ll die.”

My heart kicked against my ribs, but I forced myself not to look away. “At least that’s honest.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, studying me. The silence stretched until my skin crawled.

Then, unexpectedly, he asked, “Where are you from?”

The question hit me like a blade. I froze. Images of fire, blood, and his smile flashed in my mind.

“Nowhere,” I said quickly. “I’ve been rogue for years.”

He tilted his head, not quite convinced. My pulse hammered, but I kept my face blank.

At last, he stepped back toward the door. Relief and disappointment tangled in my chest.

“Rest, rogue,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll see if you’re worth the chains.”

The door shut behind him, the lock clicking into place.

I sank onto the cot, trembling, my nails biting into my palms again.

He didn’t recognize me. Not yet.

Good.

That was the only advantage I had.

But as I lay there, the bond pulsed like fire in my chest, and one terrifying thought wouldn’t leave me:

I wasn’t sure if I could kill him while looking into those eyes again.

I must have dozed off, because the next sound I heard was a scream.

I jolted awake, heart racing. The scream echoed from somewhere deep in the fortress. Another cry followed, angrier, louder, almost animal.

The bond in my chest surged, violent, burning like fire in my veins. My wolf stirred wildly, ears pricked, restless.

Something was happening. Something tied to Cain.

I pressed against the bars of the window, straining to see, but the night revealed nothing. The fortress shook faintly with the sound of a roar, not a man’s voice, but a wolf’s. Savage. Broken.

The guards shouted, boots pounding against stone as they ran toward the noise.

My scar throbbed, sharp as a blade.

I knew then that Cain was not as untouchable as he seemed.

He was strong. Ruthless. A monster in every sense.

But monsters had cracks too.

And I would find his.

When silence returned, dawn was only hours away. The torches outside flickered, and exhaustion weighed heavy on my bones.

But sleep didn’t come.

I sat on the cot, staring at my scar, running my fingers over the jagged line again and again.

Cain’s voice echoed in my head. Tomorrow, you’ll prove if you belong here.

I would prove it. I would survive his test.

Not because I belonged.

But because I would not die until he did.

The sun had not yet risen when I whispered my vow again, the words steady, certain:

“Alpha Cain… I will be the end of you.”

And the bond in my chest twisted, as if laughing at the lie.