Chapter 3: A Twist Of Events

When Zaya had dragged her heartbroken self to bed, she never imagined her morning would feel like her last. Distant screams echoed through the village, but how could she worry about anyone else when her own terror stood before her?

“Prince… Prince Kayden…”

The words slipped from her lips. In the next instant, he seized her wrist and slammed her against the wall, his broad frame leaving her nowhere to run.

Something told her screaming would only make things worse.

He stepped closer. Before he could speak, a deafening howl shattered the silence.

Kayden turned toward the broken window. Zaya’s heart lurched at the sight of a massive black rogue wolf outside, its crimson eyes fixed on her.

Kayden drew two daggers. The rogue lunged at her. She froze.

Before its claws could reach her, Kayden caught the beast midair and drove a dagger deep into its chest.

Kayden hurled the howling beast through the doorway. Before it could regain its footing, his blue eyes glowed as he struck again. It was dead within seconds.

Three more rogues emerged. Kayden met them head-on, his movements lethal.

Realizing she would only get in his way, she turned and ran.

For some reason, it felt as though the rogues weren’t simply attacking the village.

They were looking for her.

Bodies littered the streets, some motionless, others crying for help. Blood stained the ground, and the smell of death filled the air.

Her stomach lurched.

A faint groan pulled her back to her senses. A middle-aged Lycan lay in a pool of blood, a deep gash across his chest. His breathing was growing weaker.

She rushed to his side and pressed her trembling hands against the wound. He would die if she did nothing.

Then her mother’s warning echoed through her mind.

“Never use your healing gift, Zaya.”

“People already believe you’re cursed.”

“If they discover what you can do, it’ll only bring more misfortune.”

What if Mother was right? The man’s breathing was fading, and there wasn’t time to find a healer. If she walked away, he would die.

She closed her eyes.

“I have to try.”

Ancient words slipped from her lips instinctively. Warmth spread through her palms, and a soft green light glowed between her fingers.

The man’s wound began closing, the torn flesh knitting itself together as though it had never been injured.

“It… worked,” she whispered.

The Lycan gasped before opening his eyes. He looked at her with overwhelming gratitude. Relief flooded through her, and she quickly stood to leave.

“My King!”

The shout stopped her.

Several armored men rushed toward them before dropping to one knee. Zaya’s heart skipped.

The injured man was King Darius, the Supreme King and Prince Kayden’s father.

Panic washed over her. She instinctively stepped backward. His sharp gaze settled on her. Now completely healed, he rose and walked toward her, stopping a few feet away.

“Thank you,” he said calmly. “You saved my life.”

His eyes studied her carefully.

She lowered her head in a respectful bow.

“Your Majesty… I only did what anyone else would have done.”

He turned to one of his guards.

“Find Prince Kayden. I want a full report before tonight’s council meeting.”

The guard bowed. “At once, Your Majesty.”

King Darius looked back at her. His expression was impossible to read.

“You,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

Zaya felt the air leave her lungs.

There was no room for refusal.

At a single nod from the king, two royal guards escorted her toward a waiting carriage.

She sat opposite the guards, her thoughts drifting back to Prince Kayden.

Was he alright?

Why would a man who hated her risk his life to protect her? Why had the king brought her along?

Her mother’s warning echoed relentlessly.

“Never use your healing gift, Zaya.”

“It will only bring you misfortune.”

Was Mother right?

She could heal others, but not her own wounds. She had no wolf, and nothing about her made sense.

How was she supposed to explain this to the king?

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her, yet anxiety refused to let her sleep. She listened to the carriage wheels until dawn painted the sky.

The carriage slowed before towering black iron gates, which creaked open at the guards’ command.

Her breath caught.

Beyond them stood the royal castle, its gray stone walls flanked by enormous watchtowers. Royal banners danced in the morning breeze, while rows of soldiers stood perfectly still along the entrance.

She had never seen anything so magnificent.

The carriage stopped in the vast courtyard. A guard opened the door, and she climbed down on weak legs.

Marble floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers, and pillars engraved with wolves and moons lined the hall.

They led her up a staircase into a hallway lined with portraits of former kings.

One thought echoed inside her mind.

These people held unimaginable power. If they wished, they could erase her from this world, and no one would dare question it.

They stopped before towering double doors, and a guard pushed them open.

The throne room was breathtaking. Rows of noble seats faced a magnificent throne carved from black stone and silver.

Her heart skipped.

Why was she here?

Two elegantly dressed women entered. Their eyes landed on Zaya, and undisguised hostility flashed across their faces. She lowered her gaze.

Nobles, generals, and ministers filed into the room. Why would a commoner like her be summoned before the royal court?

The heavy doors opened, and King Darius entered. Everyone rose. Zaya hurriedly bowed with the rest.

The king nodded and approached the throne.

“My King,” one minister began. “We’ve received reports regarding the attack on Crescent Moon Pack. Rogue werewolves have reached the borders closest to the capital.”

King Darius remained calm.

“The situation is already being handled,” he replied evenly. “We’ll hold a council meeting tomorrow morning to discuss our next course of action.”

His tone made it clear that wasn’t why everyone had been summoned.

Silence settled over the throne room. Then his eyes found hers.

Cold sweat rolled down her back.

“I’d like to introduce someone to all of you.”

Every head slowly turned in her direction.

She wished the ground would swallow her whole.

Her fingers curled tightly into her palms as she tried to steady herself. She had survived rejection, humiliation, and now a rogue attack, yet standing before the king frightened her more than anything she had faced. She had no idea what awaited her.

The king gestured.

“Come here.”

Her legs trembled as she approached the throne, head lowered.

Suddenly, the king descended the steps.

She blinked in confusion.

Why was he coming toward her?

He stopped directly before her. Then, to her complete shock, he gently took her hand.

Confused murmurs swept through the throne room. He raised her hand and pressed a soft kiss against her knuckles.

The murmurs instantly died.

Silence.

She looked up at him, too stunned to breathe.

The king turned toward the nobles. A faint smile touched his lips.

“Allow me to introduce…”

He paused, letting every eye settle on them.

“My future wife…”

His grip around her hand remained gentle.

“Zaya Rutherford.”