C5

Arwen Frostfang

Thinking of my mother’s sacred Luna amulet—the only piece of my true heritage left in the world—my breath hitched. I lowered my head, the bitter cold of the stone eating through my thin clothes. I slowly sank back down onto the frozen ice.

My knees hit the ground with a dull crack.

Even Lady Cathleen flinched, taking a small step backward. Prince Thalion Dravenmoor stood right behind her, his golden slit-pupil eyes completely empty of mercy as his massive, leather-wrapped forearms remained crossed over his broad chest.

"Lord Danis, I beg you to forgive my bloodline," I forced out, my voice cracking from the freezing air and the agonizing burn in my paralyzed wolf-core. "Please... forgive me."

Before I could finish the ritual words, Cathleen tipped her silver cup, splashing a cold mixture of fermented wolf-liquor directly over my head. "Look at you, Arwen! Two years in the Obsidian dungeon and you're still kneeling like a pathetic dog for him!"

I sat frozen on the ground, the sticky, burning liquor running down my face and dripping off my chin. By the time I wiped my eyes clear, Danis had already turned his back and walked away into the dark corridor.

He was completely disgusted by what I had become.

Thalion didn't move an inch. He took a slow step closer, his boots heavy against the frost. "Since the Silverclaw bloodline hasn't accepted your apology, you keep kneeling right here on the ice, Arwen."

He turned to head back toward the inner sanctum of the Crimson Noble Den.

"Thalion..." I called out, my raw voice stopping him in his tracks. "Do you really love Lady Eowyn that much?"

His hatred for me was deeper than her own brother's. He was using every breath in his body to destroy whatever was left of my spirit.

"What did you say?" Thalion paused, turning a dark, lethal glare down at me.

I raised my head, my face covered in dried alcohol, my short body shaking so violently my teeth clicked together. But deep inside, I was just completely empty. "Thalion, I regret it. I regret every single day I spent falling in love with your scent, with your Alpha mark. If I knew you were bound to Eowyn, I never would have let you touch me. Meeting you was the absolute worst mistake of my life."

He listened to every word, his harsh features darkening until his wolf-aura pressed down so hard the air turned heavy.

"Really?" Thalion sneered, his tone dropping into a dangerous, dark purr. "Then what are you going to do about it, Arwen? Regret is the one thing a weak, wolf-less bitch can never fix in Eredhollow."

The winter night in the Crimson Noble Quarter grew colder by the second.

I remained on my knees in front of the pleasure house in my thin servant tunic. My skin was black and pale all at once, my cropped hair stiff with ice.

My paralyzed wolf-spirit whined inside my ribs, the pain so intense that my vision began to double. The noble wolves coming and going from the hall sneered at my four-foot-eight frame, laughing at the disgraced former Luna candidate kneeling in the mud. I didn't care. I lowered my head, staring at my bleeding, purple hands, disconnecting my mind from my physical body.

I had learned how to do that during two years of beatings inside the Obsidian Blood Prison. When the rogue wolves hit me, I fought back at first, and it only brought more broken bones. So I learned to lock my soul away until they got tired of kicking me. I just hoped Thalion would get tired of breaking me soon.

After two hours, Julia snuck out through the side door and threw a thick pelt over my shoulders.

"Put this on," Julia whispered angrily, looking around for guards. "It's twelve below out here! You're going to freeze your blood solid!"

"Take it back, Julia," I rasped, my breath coming out in ragged, shallow gasps. "If the manager sees you helping me, she will hand you over to the rogue Alpha dens."

"Are you really worrying about me right now?" Julia hissed, her eyes filling with tears. "I told you to run from this place! You're dying out here on the stone! Wait here, I'm getting warm blood-broth from the kitchen..."

"Julia, no..." I reached out a heavy hand to grab her sleeve, but the sudden movement made the world spin violently.

My vision cut to black. My head hit the marble steps with a loud thud, and everything went dark.

Inside the high office of the Crimson Noble Den, Prince Thalion sat in a dark leather chair, his jaw set in a hard, dangerous line.

Mrs. Gabriela, the house manager, carefully poured a cup of warm blood-tea, setting it on the table beside him. She knew his Alpha temper was boiling beneath his quiet exterior.

"The wind out there is freezing the stone solid tonight, Prince Thalion," Gabriela said softly, testing his mood. "Even strong wolves are staying inside the den."

"It's just winter," Thalion grunted, his bare forearms flexing as he rolled his heavy silver coin across his knuckles. Click. Click. "Weak things die. Strong things survive."

"And what about your blood-bed maiden?" Gabriela asked, raising an eyebrow. "It would be a shame if Alpha Beren's daughter died on our doorstep before Lady Eowyn’s mating ceremony."

Before Thalion could answer, a heavy knock rattled the office door.

Gabriela walked over and pulled it open, whispering to the guard standing outside. When she turned back around, her expression was tight.

"Arwen collapsed on the marble steps," Gabriela reported.

Thalion's hand froze. The silver coin stopped dead against his knuckle. "Where is Lord Danis?"

"He was still in the courtyard," Gabriela replied. "He picked her up himself and took her straight to the Dravenmoor Royal Healers."

Thalion's golden eyes flared with pure, volatile rage. He slammed his teacup down, shattering the porcelain into pieces. "Send three enforcers to the healer's hall immediately."

I dreamed of the fire in the Obsidian Blood Prison.

I dreamed of the rogue females surrounding my small body, kicking my ribs until my inner wolf cracked, and I remembered striking a match against the straw bedding to burn the cell down. In the dream, we were all screaming in the flames.

When I opened my eyes, the smell of burning straw was gone, replaced by the sharp, clean scent of crushed healing herbs.

I stared up at the stone ceiling, watching the clear liquid drop from a glass tube into my vein.

"Upset because you woke up?" a female healer asked, pulling the needle clear.

I didn't answer. I just stared out the small iron window at the snow falling over Eredhollow. The healer shook her head and walked out, slamming the wooden door behind her.

I lay alone in the cot, every muscle in my plus-size body aching with a deep, dull throb. My paralyzed wolf was quiet, completely exhausted from the cold.

"You finally woke up, blood-maiden."

A dark, heavy voice shattered the quiet.

I turned my head slowly. Prince Thalion sat in a wooden chair near the hearth, his legs crossed, his dark leather-wrapped forearms resting on his knees. The firelight played across his harsh, handsome face, making his golden eyes look like liquid fire.

"Using a fainting spell to get out of your punishment..." Thalion sneered, stepping toward the bed. "You learned some cheap tricks in the blood prison, Arwen."

I kept my lips locked together, refusing to fight him. My silence only made his Alpha dominance flare hotter.

"Answer me when I speak to you!" he growled.

"You already know what you want to think, Prince Thalion," I whispered, my voice flat. "What do you want me to say?"

Thalion's face twisted in rage. He stepped up to the edge of the cot, his massive five-foot-two frame towering over my small four-foot-eight body. He reached down and grabbed my jaw in a crushing grip, his leather-wrapped fingers digging into my cheeks, forcing my eyes to meet his.

"You look pathetic," he growled low, his breath hot against my face.

"Then let me go," I choked out against his hand. "I can leave Eredhollow forever."

Thalion swallowed hard, his eyes dropping down to my chapped lips, then scanning the pale scar on my cheek. The ancient mate bond between our bloodlines flickered unexpectedly, a sharp spark of dark heat pulling his thumb across my lower lip. His touch turned possessive, dirty, and angry all at once.

"You don't get to leave me, Arwen," he whispered against my mouth, his scent of cedar and raw Alpha heat invading my lungs, making my core ache with an unwanted, shamed heat. "Your body belongs to my den until I say your debt is paid."

The heavy wooden door swung open before he could draw another breath.

Thalion let go of my jaw, stepping back smoothly into the shadows just as Danis Silverclaw walked into the room holding a sealed parchment from the Dravenmoor Blood Council.