Chapter 3: The Forbidden Woods and the Lycan King

​Thalia’s POV

​The night air sliced across my face like a razor as I sprinted through the pitch-black woods.

​The white silk dress I wore was ruined, torn at the hem and caked in thick mud and thorn scratches. In the distance behind me, the blood-chilling howling of Vance’s tracking wolves echoed through the trees. They were fast, closing the distance easily with their apex predator instincts.

​"She’s heading for the northern border! Catch her alive! The Alpha wants to skin her legs himself!" a warrior's voice roared from just over the ridge I had passed.

​I didn't stop. My bare feet were bleeding, leaving small crimson smudges on the dead leaves I trampled, but the physical pain paled in comparison to the phantom memory of a knife at my throat. I knew the only way to survive a pack of hunting wolves was to go somewhere they would never dare follow.

​Up ahead, the trees grew denser, taller, surrounded by a thick, unnatural black mist. The temperature plummeted instantly, turning my breath into white puffs of vapor.

​The border of the Blackwood Forest. The territory of the Lycans.

​Without a single second of hesitation, I leaped over the ancient stone boundary line, plunging straight into the dark fog. Behind me, the frantic barking and heavy footsteps of Vance’s warriors came to a screeching, violent halt right at the borderline. They howled in pure frustration, but not a single one dared to place a single claw inside the woods. They knew crossing this line meant instant execution by the Lycan King.

​I walked slowly into the pitch-black forest, letting the fog swallow my figure completely. The atmosphere in here was dead. No night birds. No crickets. Just the wild, erratic thumping of my own heart.

​Suddenly, a heavy scent of cedarwood, mixed with the sharp tang of ozone before a lightning storm, flooded my senses. The scent was so overwhelming, so violently masculine, and so dominant that my knees turned to jelly just from inhaling it. A violent shiver raced down my spine.

​A heavy, deliberate footstep echoed from the darkness of the mist ahead.

​"A human..." a deep, rumbling baritone voice vibrated through the air, making the surrounding leaves shake. He wasn't even using an Alpha command, but the sheer force of his energy was infinitely more terrifying than anything Vance had ever put out. "How dare you defile my lands with your filthy blood, little mouse."

​Before I could even register his form, a massive dark shadow blurred through the fog with a speed my human eyes couldn't track.

​My body was thrown backward, my spine colliding hard against the trunk of a massive oak tree, knocking the air right out of my lungs. Before I could fall to the ground, a massive, burning-hot hand covered in rough scars locked around my throat, lifting me entirely off my feet.

​I gasped, my fingers clawing at his stone-hard wrist as I fought for air. A pair of glowing silver eyes stared down at me from the shadows of the mist.

​Lysander. The Lycan King.

​He was massive, towering over me, his frame far broader and more lethal than a standard werewolf. Pure dominance and unyielding power radiated off him, turning the very air into a chokehold.

​But the exact moment his palm pressed against the bare skin of my neck, something explosive happened.

​A violent shock of electricity exploded between us. A blistering heat surged from his touch, racing straight through my veins and slamming directly into my heart. It felt like fireworks detonating inside my chest, causing Lysander's chest to vibrate as his inner beast let out a low, rumbling growl of shock and absolute possession.

​Lysander’s silver eyes widened. His suffocating grip on my throat loosened just a fraction, but he didn't let go. Instead, he leaned down, burying his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent deeply, like a man confirming a miracle.

​"This scent..." Lysander growled, his voice dropping into a dangerous, primal hunger. "You... it’s impossible."

​I knew what it was. The fated mate bond. Something I had never felt in my first life because my wolf blood had been dormant, but now, my awakened lineage was responding. The ruthless king in front of me was my true mate.

​Despite my vision blurring from the lack of oxygen, I forced myself to look directly into his glowing silver eyes. I didn't show fear. I let a thin smirk curve my lips despite the pressure on my throat.

​"Take me... to your castle, King Lysander..." I choked out, pushing past the sparks burning our skin. "I have... the exact coordinates of Vance’s secret silver mines... and his military supply routes. I know... how to break his empire."

​Lysander froze. The raw shock in his eyes shifted into a deep, dangerously dark curiosity. He lowered me slowly until my feet touched the dirt, but his hand slid up to grip my jaw possessively, tilting my face up to force my submission.

​"You're offering to betray your own Alpha?" Lysander sneered, a cruel smile forming on his lips. "What makes you think I need the help of a fragile human to crush a pathetic little pack like the Crescent?"

​"Because I'm not an ordinary human," I countered, staring back at him with a vengeance that mirrored the darkness of the forest. "And I know secrets that will bring your own kingdom to its knees if Vance figures out how to use them. The choice is yours, My King. Lock me away as your prisoner, or use me as your weapon."

​Lysander stared down at me in a long, suffocating silence. His thumb slowly brushed across my bottom lip, applying a heavy, dominant pressure that blurred the lines between terror and burning attraction.

​"You are a dangerous little creature, mouse," Lysander whispered, his eyes flashing with a terrifying obsession. He scooped my body off the ground with terrifying ease, cradling me against his chest as he walked into the deep fog. "I'll take you to my castle. But remember, if you lie to me... I will personally rip your heart out of your chest."