Chapter Three

Maren's POV

The sound of horses approaching the house woke me before sunrise.

For a few seconds, I remained still beneath the blanket, staring at the ceiling as I tried to understand what had disturbed my sleep. Then I heard the movement outside again, followed by the sound of a carriage stopping in front of the house.

My stomach tightened.

I sat up slowly, remembering the conversation I had overheard the previous night. My father had made arrangements with the royal representative, and I had no doubt that the carriage outside had something to do with them.

I had hoped he would change his mind overnight. Perhaps he would reconsider sending me away, or at least give me more time to understand what was happening. However, the hurried footsteps outside told me that nobody intended to wait for me.

I pushed the blanket aside and got out of bed. After washing my face, I changed into a simple dress and began gathering the few belongings I could carry. There was no point packing everything. I was not going on a visit, and nobody had told me when I would return.

A knock sounded against my door.

"Maren, are you ready?" my mother's voice called from the other side.

I closed my bag. "I'm coming."

When I stepped into the hallway, my mother was already waiting. She glanced at the bag in my hand before looking towards the staircase.

"Your father is downstairs. The carriage is ready, so you should hurry."

I studied her face, hoping to find even a trace of regret, but she looked as composed as she always did.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I asked quietly.

Her expression hardened. "What else do you expect me to say? You know why this is happening. Don't make things more difficult than they already are."

I looked away, refusing to argue with her. There was nothing I could say that would suddenly make her care about what happened to me.

Downstairs, my father stood near the entrance with a folded document in his hand. He glanced at me as I approached and held it out.

"Keep this with you. It contains the details of the arrangement and the instructions you are expected to follow."

I accepted the document without opening it.

"How long will I be there?" I asked.

"That depends on what happens at the palace," he replied, adjusting the cuff of his shirt. "Do not embarrass this family. Listen to the royal officials and do as you are told."

I wanted to ask whether he had considered what might happen to me once I arrived, but the words remained in my throat. 

He turned towards the door, clearly expecting me to follow.

I took one last look around the house before stepping outside. 

Nobody came forward to say goodbye.

My father simply watched as I climbed into the carriage, while my mother remained near the doorway. The moment I settled onto the seat, the door closed, cutting off my view of them.

I rested my bag beside me as the carriage began moving.

Only then did I allow myself to breathe.

The journey to the royal palace was longer than I expected. We passed through several pack territories, stopping at checkpoints where guards inspected the carriage and checked the documents carried by the royal escorts. Each time we stopped, I noticed more young women waiting with their belongings, all of them heading towards the same destination.

By the time we reached the final checkpoint, the carriage was no longer empty.

A young woman climbed inside and settled opposite me. She looked around nervously before placing her bag on her lap.

"Are you also going to the palace?" she asked.

I nodded. "Yes."

She let out a shaky breath. "My name is Livia."

"Maren."

Livia offered a small smile, although the worry in her eyes remained. "Have you heard anything about the King?"

I frowned slightly. "Not much."

"Really?" She leaned closer, lowering her voice as though someone might overhear us. "People have been talking about him everywhere. They say his wolf becomes uncontrollable once every month, and that nobody can get close to him when it happens."

I looked out through the carriage window. "Why would the palace be gathering women if that's true?"

"Because they believe his fated mate might be able to calm him." Livia glanced down at her hands. "Apparently, the royal family has been searching for her for years."

I turned back towards her. "And what happens to the women who fail?"

Her expression changed.

"Nobody knows for certain. Some people say they are sent home, but others claim the women taken to his private chambers never return."

A cold feeling settled in my stomach.

 I had never imagined that I would find myself travelling to his palace, much less as one of the women expected to face him.

"Why would anyone agree to come here?" I asked.

Livia gave a humourless laugh. "Not everyone had a choice. Some families are desperate for the royal compensation. Others believe their daughters might become the King's chosen woman."

I understood that answer better than I wanted to.

My father had not sent me because he believed I could become the King's mate. He had sent me because he needed the money.

"His birthday is approaching, too," Livia continued. "I heard he will turn thirty soon. The royal family is desperate to find someone before then."

Before I could ask what made his birthday so important, the carriage began slowing down.

I leaned towards the window, and my breath caught when the palace finally came into view.

It stood beyond enormous iron gates, surrounded by tall stone walls and several watchtowers. Armed guards lined the entrance, while soldiers patrolled the grounds in carefully arranged formations. The building itself was magnificent, with towering columns, wide balconies, and dark windows that seemed to watch everyone approaching.

Yet, despite its beauty, there was something unsettling about the place.

The carriage passed through the gates after the royal guards inspected our documents. Other carriages were already parked in the courtyard, and several women stood nearby with their attendants. Some looked excited, while others struggled to hide their fear.

I climbed down with my bag and followed the royal escort towards the entrance. Livia walked beside me, occasionally glancing at the armed men stationed along the walls.

Inside, the palace was even larger than it appeared from outside. 

A royal official sat behind a desk, recording the names of every candidate who arrived. When my turn came, I stepped forward and gave him my name.

"Maren Vale," he repeated, writing it down before looking at me. "Age?"

"Twenty-two."

He made another note and gestured towards the waiting women.

I moved away from the desk, but before I could reach Livia, two guards standing near the entrance began speaking in low voices. They seemed unaware that anyone was close enough to hear them.

"How many have arrived this time?" one asked.

"More than last month."

The other guard shook his head. "And how many do you think will leave?"

I slowed my steps.

"Keep your voice down," the first guard warned, glancing towards the hall. "You shouldn't be discussing this here."

"What difference does it make?" the second guard muttered. "The King has already killed enough of them. How many more must die before his birthday?”