C2

Wham!

My head smashed straight against the frost-covered glass panel of the transport, pain exploding behind my eyes.

"Watch it!" I gasped, clutching my aching skull. My short body vibrated with raw terror.

"Stupid wolf-less trash," the transport driver barked, slamming his hand onto the steering wheel. He glared back at me in the rearview mirror, his yellow eyes flashing with spite. "I hit a royal carriage from the Dravenmoor Crimson Dominion! I knew picking up low-life rogues from the Obsidian Blood Prison would ruin my bloodline's luck today!"

The driver shoved the door open, grabbed my thin shirt, and threw me out into the snow.

My four-foot-eight frame hit the frozen dirt hard. My plus-size body slammed against the sharp ice, sending a wave of burning agony through my paralyzed inner wolf. I couldn't shift. I couldn't fight back. My black skin felt like ice, and the crescent scar running down my cheek throbbed violently under the freezing wind.

A crowd of low-rank wolves from the Crimson Noble Quarter gathered around, snickering and pointing at my scarred face and shivering body. I buried my face in my hands, trying to hide the shame burning through my blood.

Then, the heavy scent of black cedar, blood-lust, and raw Alpha power hit my nose.

A pair of custom leather boots stopped right in front of my face.

I froze. I raised my head slowly, looking past the dark trousers up to the towering five-foot-two frame of the male who had haunted every single one of my nightmares for two straight years.

"What's the matter, Arwen Frostfang?" Prince Thalion Dravenmoor sneered, his tone dripping with lethal disgust. "Two years in the dark cell and you forget how to bow to your Alpha?"

Thalion looked more breathtaking and deadlier than the night he crushed my wolf. His massive chest filled out his dark coat, his bare forearms tight with muscle and wrapped snugly in black leather bands. Between his knuckles, he lazily rolled a heavy silver coin back and forth, the cold metal clicking rhythmically against his skin.

I tried to scramble backward in the dirt, but the tip of his dark silver cane slammed directly onto my shoulder, pinning me down into the snow.

"Ah!" I gasped, tears springing to my eyes as the pressure flared right into my broken ribs. "Please..."

"You look disgusting," Thalion said coldly, flicking a spark of fire from his fingers to light a black cigar. "Where is the proud daughter of Alpha Beren now? Look at you. Dried skin, cut hair, carrying the scent of prison filth."

"Prince Thalion..." I forced the words out past my dry lips, my teeth chattering from fear. "My pack abandoned me. My bloodline erased my name. The debt is paid."

"Paid?" Thalion laughed softly, a dark, dangerous sound that made my core tighten with a sickening mix of terror and unwanted mate-bond memory. He leaned down, his massive hand reaching out to grip my jaw in a crushing hold. His leather-wrapped thumb pressed brutally against my lower lip, tilting my face up to meet his golden, slit-pupil gaze. "Two years in a cage doesn't pay for taking Eowyn’s wolf away. Your wolf is broken, Arwen, but your body is still alive."

His scent invaded my lungs—pure male heat, dark wolf dominance, and possessive rage. Even without my wolf, the ancient mate bond slumbering in my veins pulsed once, making my heat rise against my will, making my inner core ache with a terrifying dampness.

"Let me go," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I have nothing left. The Frostfang Moon Dominion gave you everything."

"You don't get to leave until I say you leave," Thalion growled low against my ear, his hot breath burning my icy skin. He pulled back slightly, his eyes tracking down my heavy curves with an ugly, possessive hunger. "My pack council just signed the decree. Your father gave up your body to House Dravenmoor to settle the pack war."

He slipped a thick, leather-bound document out from his coat and dropped it directly onto my lap.

"Read line three, Arwen," Thalion whispered, clicking his silver coin over his knuckles once more.

My shaking, frostbitten fingers pulled open the heavy scroll. My eyes scanned the blood-ink letters written by my own father's hand: Arwen Frostfang is hereby stripped of all pack rights and handed over to Prince Thalion Dravenmoor as a breeding slave for the Dravenmoor Crimson Dominion.

"No..." My voice failed me. My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. "Father wouldn't..."

"He did," Thalion snapped, grabbing my collar and pulling my small frame off the ground until my toes barely touched the ice. "You belong to my den now. And tonight, Lady Eowyn Silverclaw gets to mark your skin."