chapter 3

The King’s Court

The howls started at dawn.

Elira sat on a leather bench inside the carriage, wrapped in a black cloak far too heavy for her. Kael sat across from her, one arm braced on the window, the other resting on his thigh, fingers twitching like he wanted to rip the world apart.

They hadn’t spoken since the night before.

She hadn’t slept.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked, voice hoarse.

Kael didn’t look at her. “The Ironwood.”

“You said that. What is it?”

His silver gaze slid to her slowly. “It’s where Lycans were born. Where we swear oaths. Where we burn traitors.”

The words were calm. Too calm.

“And you think I’m a traitor?” she asked.

Kael didn’t answer.

Outside, the trees grew blacker, thicker. The sunlight barely pierced the canopy now. The road twisted like a serpent, narrowing until the horses began to slow.

When the carriage stopped, the silence that followed was worse than the howls.

Kael stepped out first.

Elira followed, heart pounding.

They stood before a great iron gate. Beyond it loomed a stone citadel, towering high with broken spires and wild vines crawling up its walls. Dozens of warriors in dark armor waited inside, faces marked with old runes.

One of them stepped forward.

“Alpha Kael,” the man said, bowing low. “The court is assembled.”

Kael gave a tight nod.

And then his hand reached back — for hers.

Elira stared at it.

“I can walk on my own.”

His jaw ticked. “If you walk without me, they’ll tear you apart before you reach the steps.”

She hesitated… then took it.

His hand was warm. Strong. It didn’t tremble like hers.

Together, they passed through the gate.

The court was carved into the mountain itself. A hollow cavern with a circular dais and thrones arranged like fangs. At least thirty Lycans stood inside — some in their wolf forms, others half-shifted, their eyes glowing in the shadows.

The moment Elira stepped in, the growling started.

A woman with silver braids and blood-red robes rose from her seat.

“Is this her?” she said, voice sharp as steel. “This is the girl you brought into our house?”

Kael nodded once. “She’s not just a girl.”

“You bonded her,” the woman spat.

“Yes.”

A ripple of gasps and snarls echoed through the court.

“You have no right,” said another voice — a younger male with eyes that matched Kael’s too closely. “You broke sacred law.”

Kael turned. “And you break it daily, Aldric. Shall we count your mistresses?”

Aldric snarled. “You endanger us all—”

“She carries the flame,” Kael said loudly. “The bond is sealed.”

Silence.

Until the woman stepped closer to Elira, eyes narrowing. “Then let the flame speak.”

Elira stiffened. “What?”

Kael’s grip on her hand tightened. “They want to test you.”

“How?”

The woman snapped her fingers.

A soldier dragged a prisoner into the center of the court — a girl no older than sixteen, gagged and bound. Her eyes were wide with terror.

“She’s one of the traitor’s spies,” the woman said. “She was caught stealing maps of our borders.”

Kael didn’t move.

“She will be burned,” the woman said coldly. “By your bondmate.”

“What?” Elira gasped.

The woman stepped closer. “You carry fire in your blood. If your bond is real… command it. Burn her.”

“I’m not doing that!”

“She betrayed your king. Your people.”

“I’m not one of you!” Elira shouted.

Kael’s hand dropped from hers.

And that hurt more than she expected.

“You wanted to prove yourself,” the woman sneered. “Do it.”

Elira looked at the girl — sobbing now, gag shaking with every breath. She couldn’t be a spy. She was too young. Too broken.

This was a game. A trap.

“I won’t kill her,” Elira said, voice shaking.

Kael stepped forward, between her and the court.

“Enough.”

“She refused,” Aldric said.

“She showed mercy,” Kael growled. “Something this court seems to have forgotten.”

“She’s a weakness,” the woman spat. “She’ll bring your ruin.”

Kael turned slowly to Elira. “Do you trust me?”

“No,” she said without hesitation.

But her voice broke when she said it.

Kael’s expression didn’t change. “Good. Then this next part won’t surprise you.”

And before she could speak—he grabbed her.

Lifted her off her feet and threw her to the ground.

Pain exploded in her ribs.

Gasps filled the court.

Elira rolled onto her back, coughing.

Kael stood above her, eyes glowing white-hot.

“I claim her,” he said, voice echoing through the court.

“As what?” the silver-haired woman demanded.

Kael bared his teeth.

“My queen.”

The court erupted.

Shouts. Growls. Chaos.

But Elira didn’t hear any of it.

Because something shifted inside her.

A warmth that started in her chest and spread outward.

Fire.

Real fire — licking across her skin in soft waves. Her veins lit with orange and gold. Her eyes flared.

The candles in the chamber exploded into flame.

The soldiers stepped back.

Even Kael stared.

“What is happening to me?” she gasped.

The woman with the silver braids stepped forward again, this time slower.

“The Order’s flame,” she whispered. “After two hundred years… it lives.”

And then—

The wall behind the court blew open.

A dozen men in black cloaks stormed in, blades drawn.

Elira didn’t think.

She moved.

Flames surged from her palms — wild and instinctual — burning through the stone floor as she pushed Kael behind her.

One of the assassins raised his sword.

Too slow.

Elira turned her palm and burned him alive.

Kael grabbed her wrist before she could strike again.

“Enough,” he growled.

The attackers were already fleeing.

The court was silent — watching.

And Elira?

She dropped to her knees, gasping, hands still smoking.

Kael crouched beside her.

“I told you,” he said quietly. “You’re not just a girl.”

And for once, she believed him.

But the silver-haired woman’s voice rang out again, sharp and certain.

“If she stays, war will follow.”

Kael stood. “Then let it come.”

He lifted Elira into his arms.

And walked out — leaving the flames behind.