LOGINI clawed my way back to consciousness through layers of darkness, each one heavier than the last. My mouth tasted of metal and ash, my tongue a foreign object too large for my jaw. Something cold and hard pressed against my cheek—concrete, my mind supplied distantly. I tried to move and regretted it immediately as pain lanced through my body, wolfsbane still burning in my veins like liquid silver. The thin blanket scratched against my naked skin as I forced my eyes open, the world swimming into a blurry focus of gray walls and iron bars.
Prison. Cell. Captive.
The words formed slowly in my mind, disconnected from meaning until reality crashed back like a wave. I had been running. I had been free. Then the rogues with their wolfsbane darts, their rancid breath, their hands on my skin…
I pushed myself upright, ignoring the protest of muscles not yet recovered from forced shifting. The blanket—more a rag than proper covering—slipped to my waist. I clutched it back over my chest, a useless gesture toward modesty in a situation that had stripped me of everything else.
Four bodies lay sprawled on the concrete floor around me, unmoving but for the shallow rise and fall of their chests. The rogues. My captors. Now, apparently, my fellow prisoners. One had a nasty gash across his forehead, crusted with dried blood. Another's arm bent at an unnatural angle. All wore the same vacant expression of drugged unconsciousness I had likely worn moments before.
"What the hell?" I whispered, voice scraping raw from my throat.
The cell was maybe twelve feet square, three concrete walls and one made of thick steel bars. Beyond, a narrow corridor stretched in both directions, lit by buzzing fluorescent lights that cast everything in a sickly pallor. No windows. No hint of whether it was day or night, or how long I'd been unconscious.
‘Athena?’ I called internally, reaching for the familiar presence of my wolf. Only silence answered, her consciousness still buried beneath layers of wolfsbane. I was alone in my own head for the first time since she'd awakened.
I swore under my breath, colourful curses Lily had taught me when no one was listening. We'd gone from the frying pan directly into the inferno. Free of Silver Lake only to be captured by rogues, then captured again by... who? The cell looked too clean, too official to be another rogue camp.
A sound drew my attention—boots on concrete, approaching with measured steps. I pulled the blanket tighter around me, painfully aware of my nakedness, my vulnerability. A man appeared outside the bars, his crisp black uniform marking him as something official. A guard. Not Silver Lake—their guards wore navy with silver trim—but something similar. Behind him, another guard stood at a slight distance, hand resting on the taser at his belt.
"The female's awake," the first guard called over his shoulder, not bothering to address me directly.
I pushed myself up further, wincing as my bare feet touched the cold floor. "Where am I?" My voice sounded strange to my own ears—too high, too frightened.
The guard's eyes swept over me with clinical detachment. "Prisoner holding. Royal City."
The Royal City. My heart stuttered. I'd run north, straight into the territory of the Alpha King himself. Of all places to be captured, this was the worst possible outcome.
"There's been a mistake," I said, taking a step toward the bars, then stopping as the second guard's hand moved to his weapon. "I'm not with them. They captured me in the forest. Used wolfsbane darts to force my shift. I was running from—" I stopped, unsure how to explain my situation without admitting I'd fled my pack, a serious offense in its own right.
"Save it for your trial," the first guard said, boredom evident in his tone. He'd clearly heard every possible story from desperate prisoners.
"You don't understand," I insisted, desperation clawing at my throat. "I'm from Silver Lake Pack. These rogues attacked me. You can contact Alpha Marcus Blackwood—" The lie tasted bitter, but I needed someone, anyone to believe me.
The guard exchanged a glance with his partner. Something like amusement passed between them.
"Silver Lake, huh?" The second guard stepped closer, studying me with newfound interest. "That's what the last one said too. Must be your pack's new defense strategy."
"The last—? No, I'm telling the truth!" I clutched the bars, the metal cold beneath my fingers. "Please, just contact them. Ask for—" I faltered. Who would vouch for me? Not Marcus or Elena, who had cast me out. Not Alexander, who had rejected me. Lily? A servant's word would hold no weight.
The first guard sighed, reaching for something on his belt. A syringe filled with amber liquid gleamed under the harsh lights. "Female's getting agitated. Standard procedure."
"No!" I backed away from the bars, bumping into one of the unconscious rogues. He groaned but didn't wake. "I'm not agitated. I'm trying to explain. They drugged me. I'm not one of them!"
The cell door unlocked with an ominous clank. Both guards entered, expressions impassive as they advanced on me.
"Please," I whispered, backing against the wall, nowhere left to retreat. "Please don't."
The second guard grabbed my arm, twisting it behind my back with practiced efficiency. I struggled, but the wolfsbane still in my system had weakened me, and his grip was like iron.
"Typical rogue," the first guard muttered, tapping the syringe to remove air bubbles. "Always someone else's fault. Always a mistake." He found a vein in my exposed arm and slid the needle in without gentleness.
Fire spread from the injection site, racing through my veins with familiar agony. Wolfsbane again, stealing what little strength I'd recovered.
"I'm not..." The words slurred as darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. "Not a rogue..."
The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was the guard's indifferent face as he stepped back, duty completed, problem solved.
"Sweet dreams, prisoner," he said, voice fading as the drug pulled me under. "Better save your stories for the Alpha King. He'll be your judge, jury, and executioner soon enough."
Then there was nothing but darkness once more.
I left Amelia on the balcony, the taste of victory still fresh in my mouth. Victoria's execution had sealed what the claiming bite had started – my mate had witnessed wolf justice delivered in her name and hadn't flinched. When I returned to our chambers at ten, the scent of bath oils and warm water greeted me, drawing me to the bathroom door. She sat submerged to her shoulders, copper hair darkened by water, piled atop her head in a messy knot. Her eyes closed, throat exposed, vulnerable in a way she'd never allowed before. Ares stirred immediately, his hunger a constant pressure beneath my skin.'Tonight,' he growled, the word reverberating through our shared consciousness. 'No more waiting.'For once, we were in perfect agreement. I'd been patient – far more patient than my reputation would suggest possible. I'd given her time to heal, to adjust, to accept her new reality. But the execution had changed something in her. I'd seen it in her eyes as Victoria's blood st
I guided Amelia through the palace corridors, her hand still clasped in mine. Blood stained the hem of her dress, Victoria's final mark upon her, though this one she wore like a badge of honor rather than a wound. Her steps matched mine, unhurried and steady. No trembling, no hesitation, no tears for the woman whose heart I had torn out minutes before. Pride swelled in my chest. My queen had witnessed wolf justice in its rawest form and hadn't flinched away. More than that – she had sanctioned it, approved it, found satisfaction in it.'She is perfect,' Ares crowed in my mind, his satisfaction rolling through our shared consciousness like thunder. 'Did you see her eyes? Gold-green. Athena wanted blood too.'Indeed, the memory of Amelia's eyes shifting in the throne room replayed in my mind – that moment when Athena had surged forward, predatory instinct overriding human sensibilities. Not entirely, though. There had been control there, restraint born not of fear but of choice. She had
Victoria entered the throne room like a feral animal, dragged between two guards whose expressions remained professionally blank despite her struggles. Her perfect blonde hair hung in tangled clumps, her face blotchy and tearstained. The ice-blue dress she'd worn to the ball had been replaced by plain prison garb that hung loosely on her frame. One night in the cells had accomplished what years of my suffering never could – it had broken her carefully constructed image of perfection. Athena stirred within me, her satisfaction curling through our shared consciousness like smoke.'Look at her now,' she purred, her presence pressing closer to the surface of my mind. 'Not so perfect anymore.'I kept my expression neutral as the guards forced Victoria to her knees before the thrones. She resisted briefly, earning a sharp jerk that sent her sprawling forward onto her hands. When she looked up, her eyes widened at the sight of me seated beside Lukas, wearing formal attire and a crown that ha
I stood by the window, watching Amelia as she prepared for the trial. Morning light caught in her copper hair, setting it ablaze against the dark fabric of the robe she wore. Her movements were careful, measured, betraying the nervousness she tried to hide. Three attendants hovered nearby, ready to assist with the formal attire I'd commissioned overnight, but she'd dismissed them to the corner of the room, preferring to manage alone. Independence. Stubbornness. Qualities that would serve a queen well, once properly directed.'She's perfect,' Ares preened in my mind, his satisfaction rolling through our shared consciousness like thunder across distant mountains. 'Look how she stands. Already a Queen.'Indeed, despite her evident unease, Amelia carried herself with an innate dignity that couldn't be taught. Even in my borrowed shirt yesterday, she'd possessed a natural grace that spoke of something beyond her servant life. No wonder Silver Lake had feared her enough to cast her out. The
I ended the security briefing with a dismissive wave, cutting Dominic off mid-sentence. He paused, his scarred face betraying a flicker of surprise before his professional mask slipped back into place. Ares had stirred restlessly throughout the meeting, but now he surged forward with sudden urgency. 'She shifted. Our mate has shifted. Copper wolf walks our territory.' His excitement pulsed through our shared consciousness, impossible to ignore. "We'll continue this later," I told Dominic, already rising from my chair. "There's a matter requiring my immediate attention.""But Your Majesty, the Silver Lake delegation—" Dominic began, his single good eye narrowing slightly."Can wait," I finished for him, not bothering to hide my impatience. "Secure them in their quarters until I decide their fate."He nodded once, the movement crisp and economical. "And the female prisoner? Victoria Bloomsbury?"I paused at the doorway, allowing a cold smile to touch my lips. "Ensure she remains... unco
The door closed with a soft click, and I let out the breath I'd been holding. Alone at last. My ribs ached with each inhale, and the throbbing in my skull kept perfect time with my pulse. Just days ago I'd been a servant girl in Silver Lake, scrubbing floors and swallowing humiliation, then I'd discovered my wolf and run for freedom, only to be captured by rogues. Yesterday I'd been a prisoner awaiting execution. And now? Now I was the claimed and marked mate of the Alpha King himself, a man I'd watched tear people apart with his bare hands. Fate had a sick sense of humour.I touched the mark on my neck, wincing as my fingers brushed the tender skin where Lukas's teeth had broken through. The wound was already healing—faster than it should, thanks to the magic of a mate's claim—but the memory of his mouth on my throat, the violent possession of the act, remained fresh and raw.‘It wasn't that bad,’ Athena piped up, her voice warm and satisfied in my mind. ‘Our mate is strong. His mark







