CHAPTER TWO

DAMIAN'S POV 

I’ve killed men for less than the way she looked at me tonight.

Defiant. Furious. Alive in a way that no other wolf in that wretched auction hall had been in years. They were all waiting to break her. I could smell it on them — the hunger for a Luna they could bend over their throne room floor and parade as proof of their power.

But Alessia Moonglade?

She’d burn every crown before she bowed to one.

I knew it the moment she locked her eyes on mine and didn’t flinch when every other mouth in that room went quiet.

I wanted her.

Not just her body — though every inch of her calls to my wolf in ways I’d long trained myself to ignore. No, I wanted the fight in her. The fire. The promise that once I had her beside me, not even the High Council’s knives in the dark would bring me to my knees.

That, and the prophecy whispered through my bloodline since before I clawed my father’s heart out:

Blood will bind the betrayed to the moon. Only she can crown the wolf king.

I don’t believe in fairy tales.

But I believe in insurance.

And Alessia Moonglade is the best insurance I’ve ever paid for.

***

The carriage jolts forward, and she glares at me from the opposite seat like she’s calculating exactly how to rip my throat out with her teeth.

Good.

I hate when they look at me with fear. It’s too easy.

She’s not easy.

I lean back, fold my hands, and study her wrists — raw where the silver cuffs bit deep.

She follows my gaze and yanks her sleeves down. “Don’t pretend you care.”

“I never pretend, Alessia.”

Her nostrils flare at the sound of her name in my mouth. Moon, I like how it tastes — sharp, forbidden, a dare no other alpha has ever taken.

“You could’ve let them have me,” she spits. “I would’ve rather died there than wear your leash.”

“Do you think I bought you to leash you?”

She laughs once — hard and humorless. “Aren’t you here to break me properly, Blackthorn? That’s what they said in there. If she’s broken properly.”

I lean forward. She tenses as I reach out — slow enough she could slap my hand away, but she doesn’t.

I take her wrist in my palm, turn it gently, and inspect the burn mark. Her pulse drums against my skin — fast, wild, tempting.

I meet her eyes.

“I didn’t buy you to break you, Alessia.”

“Then what?” Her voice is a blade, honed and ready. “Breed me? Parade me in your bed until you’re tired of my spirit, then toss my corpse in a river?”

A growl curls up my throat before I can stop it. Her wolf feels it too; her pupils flare wide, black devouring gold.

“You think so little of me?”

She rips her hand free. “I think exactly what you’ve shown me: nothing but chains and the stink of men who want to own me.”

I watch her fold herself back into the corner of the carriage, knees drawn up, eyes locked on the passing forest outside. She tries to hide the tremble in her hands. She hates that I see it.

I hate that I feel a crack in my chest where her fear lodges like a thorn.

***

Minutes pass in silence. I force my wolf back down where he belongs — but he paces anyway. He’s never been this restless. Never prowled for a mate like this, not since—

No. That door stays shut.

She shifts, breaking my thoughts. “How far to Blackthorn?”

“Hours.”

“Will I be locked in a tower?” she mocks. “A perfect little Luna doll to show your men?”

“Do you want a tower?”

She scoffs under her breath. “I want freedom.”

“You have more freedom now than you’ve ever had.”

That earns me a snort so sharp I nearly laugh. “Freedom? Is that what you call this?”

“Compared to the grave you were being sold into tonight? Yes.”

She glares, teeth bared in a smile that is all threat and no warmth. “Then I’ll find my own way to thank you, Blackthorn. Maybe when you sleep.”

I let her have that. I’d rather she plan my murder than shrink away like prey.

***

Hours later, the first turrets of Blackthorn Manor loom against the moonlight — cold stone and ancient iron, a fortress built from the bones of traitors.

She leans forward despite herself, eyes wide before she narrows them again. “You keep your pack in a castle. Of course you do.”

“They keep themselves here,” I say. “They are not prisoners.”

“And me?”

I turn to her, inch closer, so close she stops breathing for one heartbeat.

“You are not a prisoner, Alessia. You are my Luna.”

She spits that word back at me with pure venom. “I am nothing to you.”

Her defiance tastes like prophecy on my tongue.

“Not yet,” I murmur.

***

The carriage rolls to a halt. The guards outside shift restlessly, catching our scent — anger and something darker, thicker, threading between us.

I slide the door open, cold wind whipping inside. She hesitates for a blink too long. I step out first, then offer her my hand.

She ignores it, jumping down alone. Her knees nearly buckle from the hours in chains, but she snaps upright before anyone can see her weakness.

I smile. She hates that too.

***

I turn to the waiting guards, voice like steel under moonlight. “See her to my chambers. Post two warriors outside her door. Anyone who steps inside without my word answers to me.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

I lean closer to her ear, my voice for her alone:

“Rest tonight, Alessia. Tomorrow, you learn exactly what it means to stand beside a king.”

She doesn’t flinch. She just stares through me, her wolf pressing hard against her skin.

I know the look in her eyes. She’s not planning to run.

She’s planning to fight.

Perfect.

As I watch her disappear into

the shadows of my fortress, a thought slices through my mind like a blade I cannot dodge:

She is going to ruin me. And I might just let her.