The Alpha's Prized Captive

Lyra POV

An arrow passed through my brother's throat as he was reciting the blood oath.

For one impossible moment, time stopped. Callum stood at the altar, the ceremonial crown of silver and moonstone hovering inches above his head, his mouth filled and overflowing with blood. The blood bloomed across his white ceremonial robes like crimson flowers, and he crumpled to the ground.

The Great Hall erupted into chaos.

"AMBUSH!" someone screamed, but I was already moving, my body reacting before my mind could catch up. I lunged for Callum as more arrows whistled through the air, their tips gleaming with something that made my wolf recoil in horror. Wolfsbane. They'd coated the arrows in wolfsbane.

My father's roar shook the Great hall. Alpha Marcus of the Silvermoon Pack, the most powerful alpha in the northern territories, shifted mid-leap. His massive gray wolf form crashed into the first wave of attackers pouring through the shattered stained-glass windows. Around me, our pack warriors were shifting, the sounds of tearing fabric and cracking bones mixing with screams and snarls.

"Lyra, get to the tunnels!" My mother's hand clamped around my wrist, trying to drag me away from Callum's still body.

"I can't leave him!" I fought against her grip, but she was stronger. Luna strength, enhanced by decades of pack magic.

"He's gone, baby. He's gone." Her voice broke on the last word, but her eyes were fierce. "You're all we have left. You have to survive."

She shoved me toward the concealed door behind the altar, the one only the royal family knew about. The one that led to the ancient escape tunnels beneath the packhouse. But before I could take two steps, the main doors exploded inward.

They came like a flood of nightmares. Rogues, dozens of them, their eyes vacant and cold. They moved with an unnatural sync that made my skin crawl. No rogue pack can be this organized. Someone was leading them.

And then I saw him.

He walked through the carnage like a king surveying his kingdom, stepping over bodies without a glance. Tall, broad-shouldered, with hair as black as a moonless night and eyes that burned like blue fire. He wore all black, and unlike the rogues, he hadn't shifted. He didn't need to. The power radiating from him made every wolf in the room instinctively shrink back.

"Alpha Marcus." His voice was smooth yet cold. "I'll make this simple. Surrender, and I'll make their deaths quick."

My father, still in wolf form, lunged at him. I'd seen my father fight before, he was legendary, unstoppable, a force of nature. But this man simply raised his hand, and my father froze mid-air. Actually froze, suspended like a puppet on invisible strings.

"Witch magic," my mother breathed beside me, horror coating every word. "They've allied with witches."

The man, he had to be an alpha, no one else could command this kind of presence, flicked his wrist. My father's wolf form slammed into the stone wall with a sickening crunch. He didn't get back up.

"No!" The scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.

Those burning blue eyes found me instantly. For a heartbeat, something flickered in their depths. Was it surprise? recognition? His expression hardened into something predatory before I could decide further.

"The princess." He smiled, and it was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen. "How convenient."

My mother shoved me behind her, shifting into her russet wolf form, but three rogues were already on her. I heard her snarl, heard the snap of jaws, and then she was down too, buried under writhing bodies.

I ran.

I made it exactly six steps before invisible chains wrapped around my body, lifting me off my feet. The witch magic burned against my skin, preventing my shift, trapping my wolf beneath the surface where she howled and clawed in fury.

"Bring her," the dark alpha commanded, his eyes never leaving mine as his men finished slaughtering what remained of my pack. My family. My people.

They dragged me through blood and bodies, past my brother's sightless eyes, past my father's broken form. The coronation flowers were trampled and stained red. The crown, Callum's crown, meant to mark the beginning of his reign, lay abandoned on the altar, catching the firelight as the ancient tapestries began to burn.

I was thrown at the dark alpha's feet. He crouched down, gripping my chin with fingers that were surprisingly gentle even as his eyes promised violence.

"Do you know who I am, little wolf?"

I spat in his face.

He didn't even flinch, just wiped my blood from his cheek with something almost like amusement. I'd bitten my tongue when they threw me down.

"I am Dante Blackthorne, Alpha of the Shadowfang Pack. And as of tonight, conqueror of Silvermoon territory." He leaned closer, and I could smell winter storms and dark pine on his skin. "Your pack is dead. Your family is dead. Your home is mine now."

"Then kill me." I forced the words through gritted teeth. "If you're going to kill me, do it."

"Kill you?" He laughed, low and dark. "Oh no, Princess. You're far too valuable for that." He stood, gesturing to his men. "Chain her. Silver. I want her contained and conscious."

Silver. Silver burned werewolves, prevented healing, kept us weak. They were going to torture me.

"Why?" I demanded as they hauled me to my feet, as the first silver cuff locked around my wrist and agony lanced up my arm. "What do you want from me?"

Dante Blackthorne looked back at me with those unnatural blue eyes, and when he smiled, I saw the monster beneath the beautiful face.

"Everything your father took from me. Every debt that family of yours owes." He turned away as they dragged me toward the doors, toward whatever hell he had planned. "Starting with you."

The last thing I saw before they threw me into the darkness of a cage-lined wagon was my home burning. The Silvermoon packhouse, which has stood for three hundred years, consumed by flames that painted the night sky orange and red.

And the last thing I heard was my wolf's voice in my mind, cold and clear and filled with a rage that matched my own.

We will make him pay. We will make them all pay.

If I survived long enough to get the chance.