Chapter 2

Morwenna's stance.

The carriage rode down the bumpy road slowly. I watched my Pack disappear out of sight from the cage I was put in. Hot tears welled in my eyes and I lowered my gaze.

From almost being the Luna of the Pack, I had become an outcast. Nothing but a toy for the Lycan King to play with when he's horny.

I leaned my head against the iron bars of the cage and shut my eyes while I listened to some conversations of the riders.

“The Lycan King always goes for the best,” One of them teased and though I couldn't see his face, his voice was filled with lust.

“You better be careful of what you say. The Lycan King is in the carriage behind us and I bet he can hear us.” The other responded in a whisper.

He can hear us? But can he hear my cries? My cry for help, to be free?

“Maybe he can, he just chose to ignore us.” My wolf, Amber, responded with a painful growl.

“Why? Why has everyone chosen to abandon us, even my own family?” I opened my eyes and a tear rolled down my cheeks as I muttered the words.

When the carriage jerked to a stop, the door was wrenched open. A palace guard extended a hand, but I ignored it and stepped down on my own.

I swallowed a lump down my throat as I stood before the monstrous buildings that threatened to swallow me. Some maid, dressed in a cheap yet clean uniform, rushed towards us.

My dress, still the same from the auction, was wrinkled and stained from my struggles.

The prettiest maid who stood before me, glanced at me over her shoulder, slightly shaking her head.

“This way,” She grunted, turning sharply to her heels as the other maids went to tend to the Lycan King.

I followed, my heart thudding with every step, though I tried to hide it.

The interior was no different from the huge structure; it was dark, chilly, and imposing, just like its owner.

The maid led me through a set of heavy oak doors into a chamber where a handful of women stood in hushed conversation. They turned at my entrance, some curious, some pitying-ranking me over.

“Omegas,” I realized. “The King's women.”

Not like me, though. They were comfortable here. Their dresses, though simple, fit perfectly, and their hair was neatly arranged.

The maid who brought me, turned to me, her face smit with a sly smirk. “Know your place,” she whispered and walked away.

One of them, a woman with auburn hair and sharp eyes, Sienna, approached. “I see you've met Loralei.” She whined, circling me as she glared.

“And she doesn't like me,” I grunted, forcing a smile.

“Nobody liked you here, breeder!” Sienna snapped and stepped out of the room while the other ladies followed, except one.

Anwen approached me with a grin. “So, you're the new breeder.” There was no cruelty in her tone, but there was no warmth either. “King Leofric sent word that you were to be escorted to his chambers immediately.”

A chill ran down my spine, but I kept my expression void. “So soon? I would have thought he'd let his prize breathe first.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line. “King Leofric doesn't play games. He takes what is his.”

I stiffened. My body was not his. My soul wasn't his. No matter what this cursed fate tried to tell me.

“Then let's not keep him waiting,” I said, my voice was sharper than intended.

“Let's get you dressed.”

The bath was so good that I almost forgot that I was in a cage.

“This looks better,” Anwen complimented, glancing at me. “Follow me,” She added and stepped out of the door before I could respond.

The walk to the King's chamber was short, but my heart pounded faster with every step.

When we stopped before the double doors at the end of the corridor, my escort knocked once, then stepped aside.

“Enter,” came the deep command from within.

And there he was.

Leofric stood by the fireplace, a goblet of wine in his hand.

He didn't look at me immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of wine before finally turning, his golden eyes locking onto mine.

A lazy smirk curled his lips. “You're adjusting well.”

I didn't respond.

He set the goblet down and stepped closer.

“You'll give me what I need,” he said, his voice quiet yet firm. “But make no mistake, I demand obedience.”

“I may be yours on paper, but my soul will never bow.”

To my shock, he smirked.

I wanted to claw the expression off his face.

Instead, I remained still, forcing my breaths to stay even, refusing to let him see how his presence unsettled me.

He took another step, closing the distance between us. His scent wrapped me and I felt my breath hitch, betraying me.

His eyes flickered, as if he noticed.

Damn him.

Damn this bond.

I clenched my fist. “If you brought me here to make demands, then you've wasted your time.”

“I was right to choose you,” he murmured. “You'll make this interesting.”

I hated the way his voice slid over my skin, the way my body reacted despite my mind's rejection.

As if he had grown bored, he turned away. “You'll attend the banquet tonight.”

I blinked, “why?”

He glanced at me over the shoulder.

“So they can see exactly who owns you. You'll dress accordingly.”

My stomach twisted. Of course. He wanted to parade me before his people, to display me like a trophy.

I lifted my chin. “And if I refuse?”

A slow, dangerous curve on his lips. “Then I'll dress you myself.”

A warning. A promise.

I exhaled sharply, my blood boiling, I could fight him now, scream, lash out but what would that accomplish? If he wanted to control me, I'd make him work for it.

“Fine,” I bit out.

“Good,” he said, turning back toward the window. “You're dismissed.”

My hands shook as I yanked open the doors and stepped into the corridor. Fury surged through me. Humiliation curled in my guts.

But beneath it all, a vow burned in my soul.

He may own me by name.

But I'd never let him break me.

Let him try.