CAGED BRIDE OF THE LYCAN KINGS

Rhea's POV

The door slammed before I could drop my bags, and then a hand was around my throat, pinning me against the wood. Not choking, just holding, but the message was clear enough.

"Look at me."

Killian.

I hadn't seen him in four years, but I'd know that voice anywhere, cold and controlled like he was always measuring his words before letting them out. I looked up and felt my stomach drop because he'd changed, his hair buzzed on the sides with a black tattoo crawling up his neck, something that looked like wolf's teeth or worse. But it was his eyes that stopped me cold, grey like I remembered but threaded with gold now, vibrant and unnatural.

Alpha eyes.

"Get off me," I said, though my voice came out smaller than I wanted.

"The funeral was three hours ago." His face was close enough that I could smell him, gin and rain and something wild I couldn't name. "You're late."

"I didn't want to come at all."

"And yet here you are." His nose brushed my neck, and he inhaled, slow and deliberate, and I felt my pulse spike under his attention. "You smell like the city, like humans."

I shoved at his chest, but he didn't move an inch. "I am human, remember?"

"Where are the others?" I tried again, hating how breathless I sounded.

"Malachi's dealing with your father's mess and Rodger's busy, but I'm the one you should be worried about." His hand tightened just slightly around my throat, and I swallowed hard against his palm.

"I'm not scared of you anymore," I said, and the lie tasted bitter on my tongue.

Killian laughed, dry and humorless, then released my throat only to grab my wrist and yank me toward the stairs. I stumbled after him because I didn't have a choice, my bag falling somewhere behind me.

"Stop, you're hurting me!"

"You don't know what hurt is yet." He didn't slow down, dragging me up the stairs like I weighed nothing. "Do you have any idea what your father did, the silver he stole from the Pack, the treaties he broke?"

"That's not my problem, I haven't talked to him in years!"

"He signed contracts with your name on them, Rhea."

That stopped me, or would have if Killian hadn't kept pulling me forward. We were at the top of the stairs now, and the hallway stretched out ahead of us, portraits lining the walls like dead wolves in human skin were staring down in judgment.

"What contracts?" My voice came out smaller than I meant it to.

Killian turned, and something in his expression shifted, got colder and sharper. "The Lycan Debt, a life for a life, a bride for a Pack. Your father's dead and can't pay, so the Council ruled and now you belong to us."

Belong. The word hit me like a slap, and I opened my mouth to argue, to scream, to do something, but then another voice cut through the air.

"In this house, the moon is the only law."

I looked up and saw Rodger leaning in a doorway down the hall, swirling something amber in a glass. He looked like he'd just rolled out of bed with his golden hair messy and his shirt half-unbuttoned, that lazy smirk I remembered from childhood, except now it had teeth.

"Hey, little step-sis." His eyes dragged down my body, slow and obvious. "You grew up, and I like it, though you'll look better in the cage."

"Rodger, shut up," Killian snapped.

"Make me, Alpha." Rodger didn't look away from me, and his smile widened. "She's ours now, isn't she, to share?"

The blood drained from my face, and I felt cold all over. "Share? I'm your sister!"

"Step-sister," Killian corrected, his grip on my wrist turning bruising. "No blood between us, which makes this so much easier."

He dragged me down the hall toward the North Tower, that iron-reinforced door I'd been forbidden to go near as a child, and my heart slammed against my ribs. I tried to dig my heels in, but it didn't matter; he was too strong, and I was too human.

"Killian, please," I begged, and I hated the sound of my own voice breaking. "Don't do this, I'll find the money, I'll work, I'll do anything."

He stopped at the door with his hand on the handle, and when he turned back, the anger was gone. What replaced it was worse, this empty cold certainty like he'd already made his decision and I was just catching up.

"Anything?"

"Yes."

He stepped in close and crowded me back against the stone wall, cold seeping through my shirt and into my skin. His thumb dragged across my bottom lip, slow and almost clinical, like he was inspecting me.

"The debt isn't money, Rhea, our bloodline is dying, and the Lycan genes are failing." His breath was hot against my mouth, and I couldn't look away from those gold-threaded eyes. "We need a catalyst, a human girl who can take an Alpha's mark without dying."

Oh god. Oh no.

"No," I breathed.

"Yes." His eyes flashed brighter, predatory and possessive. "You're going in that room, and tonight we find out which one of us you bond to."

"I'll hate you forever," I choked out, tears spilling over hot and humiliating. "I'll kill myself before I let you touch me."

"I'd like to see you try," he whispered, and then he kissed me.

Not a bite or a snarl but a kiss, deep and brutal and hungry, tasting like rage and something older that he'd been holding back for years. And the worst part, the absolute worst part, was that I kissed him back for just a second, just long enough for my traitorous body to forget what was happening and remember what it felt like when we were younger, and he didn't look at me like prey.

Killian pulled away, and the triumph in his eyes made me want to scream or cry or both. He opened the door and shoved me inside, and I caught myself on the edge of a bed covered in silk sheets. The room was lavish with candles everywhere, and a gown lay out like an offering, like they'd been planning this.

"Get dressed," he said from the doorway, his voice flat. "Moon rises in an hour and Malachi's already waiting."

The bolt slid home with a heavy click, and I was alone in the dark, the taste of my enemy still burning on my lips and the reality of what was about to happen sinking in like lead in my stomach.