Chapter 4: Fire and Ice

How is this even possible? She wondered as she walked into her father’s huge living room, her eyes still on the Lycan King.

Most werewolves, especially the younger ones like her, had never seen a photo of King Ragnar Wolfe. Rumours, yes. Terrifying stories, definitely. But never his actual face. And yet here he was… the same terrifying man who had watched her from the rocks by the river two nights ago. Had he already been sneaking around their territory before he even sent the message that he was coming?

The moment the double doors opened, Ragnar’s long fingers stopped their slow, impatient tapping on the arm of the leather chair. He watched as Lawrence’s Luna entered, sobbing dramatically, followed by some nervous Omegas. But Ragnar only had eyes for the girl in the middle. He noticed three things about her instantly.

She really was as beautiful as the reports had said. She was the exact girl he had seen swimming alone under the moonlight. And she had no wolf scent at all.

No wolf? That made his eyes narrow slightly. How was the heir of Moonfang supposed to rule without a wolf?

Actually, this made his plan even sweeter. He didn’t need a fortune-teller to know Lawrence would have picked the strongest, most impressive werewolf son-in-law to protect his position as Alpha. Taking away his heir apparent would not just hurt him emotionally. It would weaken his hold on the pack and open the door for rival Alphas to challenge him.

And that was just the beginning. Ragnar had sworn a long time ago that Lawrence Thornclaw would suffer.

Still, something felt off. Why was she alone by the river during her own birthday party? Was she just upset about being wolfless? Something smelled fishy.

“Your Majesty,” Lawrence said quickly, pulling Ragnar out of his thoughts. “This is my daughter, Emily Thornclaw. The bride you asked for.”

Ragnar let his gaze slide slowly to the girl standing beside her father. She wasn’t crying or trembling like the Luna still was. No. She was glaring at him with enough heat to melt a glacier. He almost smirked. She could glare all she wanted. She was going back with him as his bride.

Lawrence gave Suri a sharp nudge when she refused to drop her head or look away, silently commanding her to show some respect, but Suri stayed as still as a statue. Inside, Lawrence was screaming. If this idiot girl ruined his play now, he would strangle her himself the second they were alone. He had expected everything else from her but never the next thing that came out of her mouth.

“I would like to have a word with my husband-to-be,” Suri said clearly, her eyes still fixed on Ragnar. “In private.”

Her heart was slamming against her ribs so hard she thought it might crack them open. This was the ruthless King she’d heard nightmare stories about, yet she had to know—why on earth was he choosing to wreck her life like this? It was the twenty-first century. Who forces arranged marriages anymore? Apparently, this ruthless King did.

“Have you lost your mind, girl?” her father hissed in her ear, his fingers digging painfully into her arm. He turned to Ragnar with a fake, shaky smile. “Forgive her, Your Majesty. She’s just overwhelmed. This is a lot for a young girl. Give me a moment to… talk some sense into her.”

“No need,” Ragnar’s voice cut through the room. It was deep, smooth, and colder than a winter grave. He watched Lawrence trying to drag Suri toward the door. “If she wants to speak, I’ll listen. Alone.”

Dray, his beta, pulled closer to him and leaned towards his ear. “Are you serious right now, Ragnar? This could be a trap.”

Ragnar didn’t look away from Suri. “No, Dray. She is just a spoilt little princess. I can handle myself. Everyone out. Now.”

The room cleared out in a blur of hushed whispers and shuffling feet. Both Lycans and werewolves alike rose without a word, some glancing curiously, others avoiding eye contact altogether, leaving a heavy silence behind. Suri stood her ground, trying her best not to shrink under the King’s intense stare.

She quickly crossed her arms over her chest. It was a shield, partly to look tough, but mostly to hide the fact that her hands were shaking. Up close, he was even more intimidating, tall, broad, and radiating danger in a way that made the air feel thicker. He didn’t just take up space; he owned it. He looked dangerous, and for a second, Suri wondered if she had overplayed her hand. Her heart was thumping against her ribs like a trapped bird, but she took a deep breath. She was Suri. She had survived worse than a cold stare. She could handle him.

Ragnar didn’t move. He lounged back in the chair like a big cat watching his next meal, waiting for the door to click shut.

Suri cleared her throat. She wanted to sound firm and bossy, but when she finally spoke, her voice came out in a tiny, annoying squeak. “I’ll start by letting you know that I’m not scared of you.”

“You’re not?” Ragnar asked. He didn’t look convinced. He pinned her with those glowing amber eyes, and she knew he could probably hear her heart racing from across the room. “Because it definitely doesn’t feel that way to me.”

Suri looked away for a split second to gather her courage, then snapped her gaze back to his. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Suri bit her lower lip. “You know what!” She couldn’t even bring herself to say “marry me” out loud because it felt way too personal, too real, and intimate.

The King didn’t answer. He just watched her with a cold, blank expression that was impossible to read. It was infuriating. Suri’s temper flared. Was he really just going to sit there playing the Silent King? Fine. If he wanted a piece of her mind, he was going to get it.

“I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, but I’m demanding that you stop it this minute.”

One of his eyebrows shot up. “Demanding?”

Suri’s eyes flashed with anger. Out of everything she said, that was the only word he cared about? “Yes! I don’t know why you woke up one morning and decided to marry a werewolf stranger. Stop this now, or the consequences are going to be more than you can handle.”

Ragnar rose from the chair in one smooth, controlled movement. He moved with a slow, deadly grace. Suri planted her feet and refused to step back, even as he closed the distance. He stopped just a few feet away, close enough for his scent to fill her head, but far enough to be respectful.

“What consequences?” he asked, his voice a low hum. “Are you threatening me right now, Miss Thornclaw?”

Suri swallowed hard. Truthfully? There were no consequences, other than the fact that she was going to be his worst nightmare if he went through with this. “I don’t even know what this whole thing is all about,” she deflected. “I just need you to stop all of this nonsense now! I’m not going to throw my life away just to satisfy your ego.”

“No.”

The answer was short, cold, and final. He wasn’t even raising his voice, but Suri felt the chill down her spine anyway. “No?”

“What? Did you really think you could threaten me and I’d simply change my mind?” Ragnar’s gaze was like ice, and he was studying her like she was an interesting specimen. “We are getting married, Miss Thornclaw, and no one, not even the goddess, will change my decision.”

“I will not marry you,” she snapped, purely out of stubbornness, just to push back.

A tiny glint—something dangerous and almost amused—crossed his eyes. “I’m not forcing you to. But you know the only other option.”

“You are so full of yourself!”

“You have no idea.”

Her jaw dropped. She could only stare at him, shocked by his sheer arrogance.

“If that’s all, Miss Thornclaw, I’m done wasting time on your useless whining. You have two choices: become my bride or tell your people to get ready for war. But before you choose, think about how many people will die compared to just one person giving up her freedom.”

Suri felt a sting in her chest. “Are you emotionally blackmailing me right now, Your Majesty?”

“If you think this has anything to do with emotions, you’ve completely misunderstood me.”

With that, he turned his back on her and walked back to his seat, settling into it as if nothing had happened. As if on cue, the doors swung open. The Lycans marched in first, followed by her pack. Her father was at the front, shooting her a glare that could have frozen water.

Suri swallowed hard. Looking at her father and then at the King, she realised with dread that there was no way out of this.

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