Mag-log inDominic dismounted the beast in one fluid, predatory movement. His massive hand wrapped around her arm, tugging her down with him. The moment her bare, bruised soles made contact with the freezing cobblestones of the courtyard, Rosalie's knees turned into complete jelly. She staggered, the sharp rocks cutting into her soles, but his iron grip kept her upright. Feeling the chill of the cold stones beneath her feet, she realised that she had lost her shoes in her misery at the ceremony.
She forced her heavy, tear-blurred eyelids open, and her breath instantly hitched in her throat. She was visibly shaken, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Surrounding them in the dim, foggy courtyard were dozens of high-ranking guards. They were absolutely huge, massive, imposing Alphas whose towering heights cast terrifying silhouettes against the gray mist. They were draped from head to toe in thick, matte-black armor that looked sharp enough to draw blood at a single touch. The heavy scent of sulfur, weapon steel, and sheer dominance rolled off them in suffocating waves. Their aura wasn't just intimidating; it was lethal. It was dangerous.
The entire fortress possessed a scary, suffocating aura that made her feel like an ant about to be crushed beneath a giant's boot. This wasn't a home. It was a palace of monsters, a gothic prison of jagged stone and iron spears that grew directly out of the bleeding mountain peaks.
"Let’s go inside," Dominic’s deep voice rumbled, the sound vibrating directly against her skull like a warning clap of thunder.
It was in that moment that the reality dawned on her that she was really in a black fortress, the place of which she had heard rumors about, the place of nightmares. No... She couldn't live there. This man might kill her the second she steps in there.
As if sensing she was about to flee, he tightened his grip on her hand, his calloused fingers locking around hers to guide her toward the massive, arched wooden doors of the fortress.
But Rosalie did not move.
A sudden, overwhelming wave of pure, primal terror flooded her soul. Her feet became completely glued to the freezing ground. She could not take a single step forward into that darkness. Every survival instinct she had left inside her hollow chest screamed at her to fight. She planted her heels against the cobblestones, shaking her head violently as the tears of pain and humiliation spilled over her rosy cheeks freely.
"No..." she gasped, her voice a fragile, broken thread. "No, please..."
She pulled at her hand, desperately trying to yank it out of his iron grasp. She was not moving. She couldn't. The trauma of the entire night was finally processing in her brain. Her mind was a complete wreck of her past hopes and dreams. For eighteen years, she had survived a miserable life in the shadows of the Ashford pack, but this... this was a new level of doom. She was terrified of what lay behind those doors. She was terrified of the merciless brute who had just bound her to his bloodline.
"I don't want to go. No..." She breathed as she began to free her wrist, which was impossible.
Noticing her struggles, Dominic stopped. He gave a sharp, impatient tug at her wrist. The sudden force made her stumble forward, her body crashing into his hard body, her breath hitched as she abruptly pulled back, and she refused to give up. Panic completely overtook her senses. Rosalie brought her free hand up, wrapping her small, trembling fingers around his massive wrist, frantically scratching and pulling at him, trying with everything she had to free herself.
"Let me go I said!" She screamed, but he just tilted his head, staring at her like a predator. Her heart trembled in fear as she shook her head.
"Please, just let me go!" she wept, her chin quivering as she stared up at him through a veil of wet hair.
Dominic's brow raised slightly, his sharp, granite jaw tightening as his piercing amber eyes locked onto her. He stared down at her with a cold, unreadable expression, looking at her as if he couldn't understand her sudden defiance. To him, she had been completely okay, silent, and compliant while riding here on his horse. He didn't understand that she had been floating in a state of shock, completely paralyzed by the snapping of her mate bond. Now that her mind was finally waking up to the horror, she didn't want to get in anymore. She wanted to escape. She wanted to run away from the guards, from the fortress, from him.
"Please!" She pleaded, punching his hand now that was holding her wrist, her hand was so small, and with those little punches, she was only hurting herself.
She was petrified to step inside; she just wanted to run away, but where else could she go? She was a rejected Omega. Her mate had traded her life to settle a royal debt. Her father only stepped forward because he wanted to sell her off and not give her away for free. She had no home, no pack, no one to rescue her.
"Let’s go inside, little wolf," Dominic repeated, his voice dangerously low, carrying that teeth-like edge that made the guards around them bow their heads even lower in absolute submission.
"No! I don't want to! Please!" she cried out, shaking her hand with a desperate, frantic energy. She knew she looked completely innocent and small compared to his mighty height, a fragile girl clutching a torn, ragged dress beneath a heavy cloak, but she didn't care about her pride anymore. She just wanted to run until her legs gave out. She just wanted to dissolve into the dark woods and never be seen again. She didn't want to do this anymore. She was so tired of being hurt.
"I didn't want to marry you. You forcefully married me. Let me go!" She screamed, crying; her eyes were puffy because of all the crying, and her nose, cheeks, and lips were a bright shade of red.
Dominic stared at her weeping form for another agonizing second, his amber eyes glowing like dying embers in the dark courtyard. Then, with a sharp, irritated click of his tongue, he moved forward.
Before she could even process his movement, he leaned down. In one swift, impossibly powerful motion, he hauled her up onto his broad shoulder as if she weighed absolutely nothing.
Rosalie's breath instantly hitched in her throat, and a loud, terrified scream tore through her lips.
In an instant, her entire world turned completely upside down in a fraction of a second. Her vision spun as she found herself draped over his rock-hard shoulder, her face pressed against the rough, cold leather of his back. Her long hair cascaded down his thigh like a silk veil. She chewed her lip in absolute panic, her heart hammering a crazy rhythm against her ribs.
He was already walking. His massive, heavy boots slammed against the cobblestones with a steady, echoing thud as he marched directly into the dark maw of the fortress.
"Put me down! Put me down, you monster!" she screamed, her voice cracking with pure terror.
Tears of pure raw fear brimmed in her eyes as she balled her hands into fists and rained down punches on his back, hoping to hurt him so he'd loosen his hold, and she could escape, but who was she kidding? How could she escape from the den of vicious wolves? And she was the only lamb. But she was in a fight or flight mode. Nothing made sense to her.
A heavy sob escaped her lips as the reality of her captivity settled over her. She began to struggle violently, her survival instincts driving her to fight with every ounce of strength left in her small body. But it was to absolutely no avail. Her fists felt like feathers against his godly, muscular frame. He didn't even flinch. He didn't even slow his pace. He carried her effortlessly, his large, calloused hand firmly locking over the back of her thighs to pin her against his body, ensuring she couldn't wiggle free.
As he carried her deeper into the fortress, Rosalie was completely overwhelmed by the sheer size and terrifying aura of the place. They passed through a massive, cavernous grand hall filled with high stone arches and dark, flickering torches that cast long, monstrous shadows against the walls. The air smelled of cold stone, ancient magic, and old smoke. It truly looked like a palace of monsters. Every corner held a new terror, every shadow seemed to watch her with hungry eyes. But more than the physical size of the castle, what was truly terrifying was the absolute certainty that there was no escape. She was being carried deeper into the belly of the beast, and the further they went, the more her hope withered away into ashes. Her tears kept falling freely. She became more desperate as she began to claw on his back, but her nails barely breached his leather armour.
Dominic marched toward a grand, winding stone staircase that seemed to stretch upward into the endless darkness of the towers. He carried her all the way up, his footsteps echoing like a steady death march through the silent halls. She stopped punching his back and was clinging to him for her dear life now because if he let her go now, she'd fall off two floors and would die on the spot, the height was making her nauseous.
Her muscles ached with pure exhaustion, her forehead resting against his leather tunic as hot tears soaked into the fabric. She just wanted to escape. She didn't want to suffer anymore. Why did the Moon Goddess hate her so much? Why was her life a perpetual cycle of misery?
Finally, they reached the highest tower. Dominic stopped in front of a pair of massive, heavy oak doors guarded by two black-armored Alphas. The guards immediately bowed, quickly opening the doors for their Lord.
Dominic didn't say a word. Holding her securely on his shoulder. He stepped inside the massive, luxurious bedroom, and with a swift backward motion of his heavy boot, he kicked the door behind shut, locking it instantly so that no one else was inside the room with them.
Before she could even gather her bearings, he leaned forward and gently tossed her onto the center of a massive, king-sized bed.
All the breath completely left Rosalie's lungs as her body bounced on the ultra-soft mattress twice. The sheer force of the motion sent her hair flying across her face. The heavy black cloak he had draped over her unraveled, slipping off her shoulders and pooling onto the bed like a puddle of darkness.
The moment the mattress stopped moving, a gasp tore from her throat. Her terrified gaze locked with his predatory eyes, and fear swarmed through her veins. Panic electrified her veins. She immediately scooted back, scrambling away from him until her spine hit the heavy, carved wooden headboard. She scrambled off the other side of the bed, her bare feet hitting the soft rug as she stood up, staring at him with wide, teary, scared eyes.
She shrank away into the corner of the room, her hands trembling violently as she clutched the fabric of her torn, ragged burgundy dress in fists, desperately trying to hide the bruises and the bare skin beneath the ripped seams. She was completely terrified. Her skin went as white as a sheet because his parting words from the courtyard were still echoing inside her skull like a curse.
“Let us see if you have the strength to survive the night.”
Those words felt like a death sentence. She stared at his massive, towering figure, convinced that this merciless brute was about to step forward, pin her down, and claim his husband rights by pure, brutal force.
"Tonight is our wedding night, little wolf." He rasped, his voice thick and deep.
He stepped back toward the locked doors and bellowed a loud command.
Within seconds, the doors clicked open, and a group of five older, stern-faced Beta maids hurried into the room, their heads bowed in absolute reverence and fear. They didn't dare look at the girl or their Lord.
Dominic pointed a large, calloused finger in her direction, his voice carrying a cold, granite authority that left no room for question. "Clean her," he ordered sharply, his amber eyes locking onto hers for a fraction of a second. "Feed her. Dress her wounds. And make her get ready in the purest of red silks. Bathe her with the most expensive scents. I want her thoroughly washed and prepared for tonight before I return."
He said that, and Rosalie's eyes widened in absolute horror.
The transition from the Northern Kingdom’s border into the Western Wastes felt like stepping off the edge of the living world. The lush greenery and rolling hills vanished, replaced by jagged, ink-black mountain ranges and desolate, frozen earth. An unnatural obsidian frost covered the barren ground, glistening beneath a dark, overcast sky where the sun bled into a dull, sickly gray. A biting, sulfur-scented wind swept across the wasteland, carrying a low, hollow howl that sounded almost human.At the head of the Continental Alliance army, King Dominic rode his massive warhorse, his dark steel armor gleaming under the muted sky. Beside him rode Alpha Eldric, his jaw set in iron determination, while Garrett and Killian commanded the flank units, their hands never straying far from their sword hilts.Behind the main vanguard, surrounded by a heavy escort of elite royal guards and Morana&rs
The royal courtyard of the northern capital was a storm of iron, fire, and shifting armor. Flags of the unified Continental alliance snapped against the cold, rising wind as soldiers assembled into tight ranks. Supply wagons were strapped down, warhorns tested, and heavy steeds readied for the long march toward the jagged cliffs of the Western Wastes.Deep within the innermost sanctuary of the palace, the atmosphere was hauntingly quiet.In the heavy, fortified nursery, three-year-old Ashley and five-year-old Asher rested peacefully beneath Morana’s silver cloaking seal, with Jenny and Josy sleeping beside them. Standing guard just outside the carved oak doors was Griat. Griat stood in full plate armor, his broadsword unsheathed and resting point-down on the stone floor, his sharp eyes scanning the corridor."They will not take a single step into th
The ride back to the royal fortress was a blur of thundering hooves and suffocating dread. Dominic rode at the absolute front, his posture rigid and his golden eyes scanning the dense treeline for any sign of unnatural movement. Inside the royal carriage, Rosalie held Ashley tightly against her chest, her arms wrapped protectively around Asher, who sat unusually quiet. The warm, golden paradise of the sunflower fields felt like a distant, fading dream, replaced by a cold, heavy silence that clung to the air like smoke.The moment the carriage thundered through the heavy iron gates of the palace, Dominic vaulted off his mount before the stallion had even come to a full halt."Griat!" Dominic’s voice boomed across the cobbled courtyard, loud and authoritative, instantly cutting through the daily bustle of guards and servants.Captain Griat got off his horse
The morning sun streamed through the arched stained-glass windows of the grand dining hall, painting the white marble floor in dazzling shades of gold, amber, and ruby. The heavy oak dining table was filled with a lavish morning feast: freshly baked bread, sweet wild berry preserves, roasted meats, and jugs of rich, fresh milk.After the fiery, unrestrained heat of their private evening that continued throughout the night in the bathing chamber, King Dominic and Queen Rosalie descended to join their family. Rosalie looked radiant in a soft lavender gown, her dark red hair gathered loosely with a silk ribbon, a faint, contented glow gracing her features. Dominic walked closely at her side, his posture regal, though his golden eyes softened every time they flickered toward his Queen.In the dining hall, the children were already seated in their carved wooden chairs. Across the table, Jenny and G
The water sloshed wildly against the marble edges of the tub as the rhythm of their bodies grew faster, wilder, and entirely unrestrained. Every thrust of Dominic’s hips drove Rosalie deeper into the haze of sheer bliss, her nails digging into the hard muscle of his shoulders as her moans echoed off the slick stone walls.The heat between them was suffocating, a fire burning far hotter than the rose-scented bathwater surrounding them. Dominic’s breath blew hot and ragged against her throat, his golden eyes dark with a primal, possessive hunger that had only grown stronger over their five years of marriage. He felt the familiar, intense surge building low in his gut, the threshold of his release drawing dangerously close.Just as the peak threatened to consume him, Dominic froze.A low, guttural growl vibrated in his chest. With
The water in the marble tub sloshed heavily as Dominic pulled Rosalie even closer, refusing to allow a single sliver of air to remain between their bodies. The heat rising from the bath was nothing compared to the feverish fire consuming them both.Breaking the deep kiss for only a second, Dominic dragged his mouth across her cheek, burying his face in the damp, scented curve where her neck met her shoulder. His tongue flicked against the sensitive dip behind her earlobe, making Rosalie catch her breath in a sharp, helpless gasp."Dominic..." she whimpered, her fingers tightening in his dark, wet hair.
Life was not that bad.That was what she always told herself. Even in the worst circumstances, she always told herself that life would get better for her one day. She didn't even wish for a good life; she just hoped it would get better one day, and that was all.But certain things weren't written i
A wave of ice-cold dread clouded her very soul, freezing the blood in her veins. No... Her mind screamed as the realization hit her like a physical blow. Why did he want her dressed in the purest of silk
The thick, copper taste of Dominic Varkov’s blood coated Rosalie’s tongue, a metallic brand that felt like a permanent iron shackle around her soul. The ancient incantations chanted by the trembling High Priest still echoed in the freezing night air, vibrating
The silence of the clearing was deafening. Thousands of eyes were pinned on Rosalie Ashford, but she only had eyes for Prince Cassian. There was so much pain in her teary eyes as she pleaded with her eyes, but he didn't offer her a single glance.The silver threads of the mate bond were still puls







