Chapter 3

The impact did not break my bones.

Instead of jagged granite, my body collided with a shimmering, invisible barrier that suspended me three feet above the floor of the cavern. The dark, ancient ward absorbed my fall, humming with an overwhelming surge of kinetic force that rippled outward in translucent violet rings.

My hot, fresh blood poured from the wound across my chest, pooling in the center of the translucent seal.

The moment my blood seeped into the ancient runes carved into the barrier, the air inside the cavern went dead quiet.

The howling wind of the Forbidden Chasm vanished.

The freezing cold was replaced by a suffocating, incinerating heat that smelled of ozone, burnt iron, and raw divine magic.

Cracks of blinding crimson light spread through the ward like shattered glass.

CRACK.

The barrier disintegrated into thousands of glittering red embers. Gravity reclaimed me, and I fell hard onto the ancient stone floor, coughing up a mouthful of blood as the impact rattled my ribcage.

I lay on my side, gasping, my fingers clawing at the dust. The deep wound on my collarbone burned as if filled with liquid fire, but the bleeding had stopped.

The air in the cavern was so dense with power that every breath felt like swallowing molten glass.

Heavy iron chains rattled in the darkness ahead.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The sound was slow, methodical, and unimaginably heavy. Huge links of black iron dragged across the stone, echoing against the walls of the subterranean vault.

"Who dares..."

A voice boomed from the shadows. It was not a human voice, nor was it the voice of a standard wolf. It was a guttural, terrifying roar that vibrated through the stone floor and straight into the marrow of my bones.

"...bring the blood of the usurper into my grave?"

Out of the pitch-black abyss, two glowing, golden eyes ignited.

They hovered eight feet off the ground, burning with feral, unadulterated fury. A massive form materialized from the shadows, stepping into the dim crimson light cast by the shattered ward.

He was a monster.

Towering over seven feet tall, his chest was broad and covered in jagged, glowing runic scars that burned like dying embers. Dark shadow magic clung to his skin like torn velvet, swirling around his massive arms.

Thick black iron shackles bound his wrists and ankles, trailing broken chains that had been snapped by sheer, terrifying brute force.

He stepped toward me, his claws clicking against the granite. His golden eyes locked onto my face, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled the scent of my fresh blood lingering in the air.

"A Null," he growled, his upper lip curling to reveal massive, gleaming white fangs. "They threw a useless, dying rat down here to rot with me."

He raised one clawed hand, dark shadow magic coalescing around his fingertips like a lethal blade.

"I have waited a century in this dark hole. I will not have my sanctuary polluted by garbage."

He lunged.

The wind tore past my face as he closed the distance in a fraction of a second, his shadow-clad hand shooting directly for my throat.

I didn't close my eyes.

I didn't flinch.

I didn't cry out.

I stared straight into his burning golden eyes, my silver gaze cold, hollow, and utterly devoid of fear.

I was already dead. Alaric had taken my future, Cressida had stolen my vitality, and my own father had tossed me away like trash.

A monster's blade meant nothing to me.

His claw stopped less than an inch from my windpipe.

The razor-sharp tip hovered over my pulse point, drawing a single, tiny bead of blood.

The warlord froze, his golden eyes widening as the scent of that single drop hit his senses.

The shadow magic hovering around his hand instantly dissolved into harmless smoke.

"Your eyes..." he whispered, his voice suddenly dropping an octave, losing its feral edge and shifting into something deeply shaken.

He leaned closer, his massive frame towering over me as his golden eyes scanned every line of my face, every drop of blood smeared across my pale skin.

He lowered his hand, his claw gently brushing against the side of my neck, devoid of any malice.

A sharp, violent shockwave of golden lightning erupted from the point where his skin met mine.

It wasn't painful.

It was an terrifyingly intense wave of warmth that flooded into my veins, rushing straight to my heart.

The seal on my chest shattered completely, and deep inside my soul, something ancient and powerful let out its very first breath.

The warlord gasped, stumbling back half a step as his golden eyes flared with a blinding light.

"My mate..." he breathed, the words tearing out of his throat like a prayer. "You carry the First Blood... and you are my fated mate."

I pushed myself up onto one elbow, wincing at the pull on my collarbone.

"I am no one's mate. My fated mate just stabbed me and threw me into a chasm."

"That boy was a worm," the giant snarled, his voice laced with possessive, terrifying arrogance. "A blind fool who could not recognize a goddess if she held the blade to his throat. He did not break your bond, little wolf. He merely loosened his grip so the universe could hand you to me."

He dropped to one knee before me, the stone floor cracking beneath his weight.

Up close, his face was brutally handsome—sharp jawline, dark skin, and severe features carved by war and suffering.

"I am Ronan," he said, his golden eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. "The true Lycan King. Trapped in this darkness by the soft, corrupt cowards who sit upon my throne."

He reached out, his massive, warm hand gently cupping my cheek. His thumb wiped away a streak of dried blood from my jawline.

"They bled you," Ronan whispered, his voice turning icy cold, a dangerous promise forming in his tone. "They took your core, humiliated your spirit, and left you to bleed in the dark."

"I am going to destroy them," I said, my voice quiet, steady, and sharp enough to cut iron.

"All of them. Alaric, Cressida, my father, and anyone who stands beside them."

A slow, terrifying smile spread across King Ronan’s face.

"Then let us begin, my Queen."

Ronan leaned forward and buried his fangs deep into the junction between my neck and shoulder.