5. The Sacrifice Play

Rosalie’s POV

The heavy iron gates of the Crimson Wing had barely finished locking us in for the night when the frantic shouting began.

“Everyone into your rooms! Right now!” a guard screamed, his armor clanking violently as he sprinted down the main corridor. “Lock the deadbolts! Bolt the shutters! If you value your lives, do not open your doors for anyone!”

Inside Room 12, the sudden panic was infectious. Vanessa bolted to the window, her face turning pale as she looked up at the sky. “It’s a Blood Moon tonight,” she whispered, her voice shaking with a terror I had never heard from her before. “The stories are true. My father warned me about this.”

“What stories?” I demanded, sitting up in bed, my instincts instantly on high alert.

“The Monster Alpha,” Vanessa hissed, spinning around to face me, her eyes wide. “During the full moon, Alpha King completely loses his mind. His wolf takes total control, and he becomes an unhinged beast. He doesn’t care who you are. Friend, foe, ally—if you are in his path, you die. But under a Red Moon? The madness is a bloodbath. He will rip apart anything that breathes.”

Right on cue, a deafening, thunderous roar tore through the castle walls. It was a primal, savage sound that didn’t belong to anything human, so loud it made the stone floor vibrate beneath my bare feet.

“Hide!” Vanessa panicked, diving back into her bed and pulling the heavy blankets over her head.

I stayed frozen, listening. Another roar echoed, much closer this time, followed by the terrifying, echoing crash of thick mahogany doors splintering into pieces a few corridors away. The frantic screams of other high-born tributes pierced the air as the heavy, dragging footsteps of a predator drew nearer and nearer.

Suddenly, the door to Room 12 was violently kicked off its hinges. A squad of armored Bloodmoon warriors burst into the space, their faces pale and slick with sweat. The high commander’s eyes scanned the room, completely bypassing Vanessa’s hiding spot and locking dead onto me.

“The Alpha King has broken containment,” the commander barked, his voice tight with desperation. “He is tearing through the upper levels. We must ground his attention before he reaches the critical sectors.”

The horrific reality of their protocol clicked in my mind. They weren’t here to save me. Because my dinner strategy had been a total success—because I had convinced them all that ‘Cynthia’ was a vapid, useless, and entirely disposable airhead—they had chosen me. I was the most expendable piece of meat in the room. They were throwing a sacrificial lamb to the monster to buy time for the valuable Alphas’ daughters.

“No!” I shouted, pulling back, but two massive warriors lunged forward.

They grabbed me roughly by the arms, dragging me from the mattress. Vanessa didn’t make a sound to save me; she just watched from beneath her sheets with a sick, relieved expression of pure self-preservation. The guards hauled me down the frantic corridor and violently threw me straight through the heavy iron outer gates of the Crimson Wing.

I hit the cold marble floor of the grand hallway, tumbling in a heap of nightgown and hair. Behind me, the iron gates slammed shut with a deafening clang, followed by the rapid turning of heavy deadbolts.

“Let me back in!” I slammed my fists against the iron bars, my voice cracking. “Let me in, you cowards!”

Silence was my only answer. They had barricaded themselves inside, leaving me entirely exposed in a cavernous hallway cast in bleeding red moonlight.

The air in the corridor turned scorching hot, thick with a suffocating pressure that made it hard to breathe. From the darkness beneath the far arches, Alpha King Dominic stepped into the light.

He was completely unrecognizable. His dark silk shirt was torn to ribbons, exposing a powerful chest where veins burned an unnatural, smoky black against his heated skin. His jaw was locked in a fierce, unhinged mask, and his eyes glowed a lethal, demonic crimson. He was a madman operating on pure bloodlust.

He moved with supernatural, terrifying speed. Before I could even run, his feverishly hot hand locked around my throat, lifting me entirely off my feet and slamming me hard against a stone pillar.

I gasped, my fingers desperately clawing at the iron grip around my neck as he leaned down, his sharp claws biting into my skin. He was seconds away from ripping me in half.

“Dominic!” I choked out, forcing the single word past my bruised windpipe with every ounce of strength I had left. “Look at me!”

The sound of his own name—spoken with a fierce, commanding sharpness rather than a whimper of submission—seemed to strike him like a physical blow.

The vicious roar in his chest died instantly. The unhinged madness rolling off his aura suddenly stopped, grounding itself in a matter of seconds. His grip on my throat didn’t tighten; instead, his fingers trembled, his massive hand shifting to cup the back of my head as the glowing crimson in his eyes flickered, receding back to a startled, intense gold.

He didn’t pull away. He just stood there, his chest heaving, staring down at me in absolute, dead silence.