Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE:

Elena's POV

The journey was everything I feared it would be.

Three days of endless travel through dark forests and over mountain passes. Three days locked in a windowless carriage with only brief stops for necessities. Three days of silence from the guards who treated me like dangerous cargo, not speaking to me except to give short commands.

I tried to prepare myself for what was coming. I rehearsed the lie in my mind, practised walking like Elise, talking like Elise, being someone I am not. I apply the alpha pheromone perfume every morning as my mother instructed, checking constantly to make sure my omega scent is hidden.

But underneath the preparation, fear eats at me like a living thing.

On the third night, we camp at the base of a mountain range, and I can see lights in the distance. Bloodstone Fortress, the guards tell me. We will arrive tomorrow.

I barely slept that final night. I lay in the carriage, listening to the guards talk around the campfire. They spoke of the Lycan King in hushed whispers, their voices carrying a mixture of fear and respect.

"They say he killed fifty warriors single-handedly when the northern pack tried to invade," one guard said. "Tore through them like paper."

"I heard he keeps the heads of his enemies mounted in the great hall," another adds. "As a warning to anyone who challenges him."

"My cousin works in the fortress kitchens. She says the Lycan King never smiles. Never shows mercy. They call him the Beast King because he barely looks human anymore."

I shivered uncontrollably.

Their words settled over me like heavy stones, crushing what little hope I had left. What chance do I have against a man like that? How can I possibly fool him?

But I had no choice. I must try my best, else the consequence is death, for me and for my entire pack.

When dawn came, I was already awake, applying the perfume, already transforming myself into Elise. My hands shook as I checked my reflection in a small mirror. The blue eyes stare back at me, foreign and wrong, but convincing. My hair was styled perfectly. My dress is elegant. I look like the perfect alpha princess.

The lie is perfect on the outside. I just have to make sure no one sees the truth underneath.

The final leg of the journey took us up a winding mountain road. Through the carriage window, I caught glimpses of Bloodstone Fortress rising from the mountain like something carved from the stone itself. It was a massive masterpiece, with walls that seem to reach the sky, towers that pierce the clouds, and gates of black iron that look strong enough to withstand any army.

It is beautiful in a terrifying way, like a blade catching moonlight.

As we approach the gates, I hear shouts from the guards. The gates open slowly, grinding like the jaws of some great beast swallowing its prey. The carriage passes through, and I feel the weight of those walls closing behind me, cutting off any hope of escape.

We entered a massive courtyard filled with activity. Warriors trained in organized groups, their movements precise and deadly. Servants hurried back and forth carrying supplies. Everyone moved with purpose, with discipline. This is not just a fortress. It is a military camp, and every person here is a weapon.

The carriage stopped in front of a grand entrance, wide stone steps leading up to massive wooden doors carved with images of wolves and moons. Guards approach, opening the carriage door and pulling me out.

My legs were shaky from the three days of travel, and I stumbled slightly as they removed my chains. The silver burns as it slides off my wrists, leaving red marks on my skin. A guard steadied me with a firm hand on my elbow.

"Walk straight ahead," he instructs. "The Lycan King is waiting for you in the great hall."

I nodded, unable to speak past the fear that threatened to choke me. I forced myself to straighten my spine, to lift my chin, to walk like Elise would walk, confident and strong like an alpha not cowering and afraid.

The doors opened as I approached, revealing a long corridor lined with torches. The stone walls are decorated with weapons, swords, axes, shields, all showing signs of use. This was not a decoration for beauty. These are reminders of battle, of blood spilled and wars won.

Goosebumps.oed climbed my skin, thinking abi how many blogs these weapons must have shed.

Warriors line the corridor, all watching me with intense eyes. I feel their gazes like physical touches, studying me, judging me. I keep my eyes forward and my steps steady, even though I want to run.

At the end of the corridor, another set of doors opens into the great hall.

It was enormous, with a ceiling so high it disappeared into the shadows. More torches line the walls, casting dancing light over everything. The floor was polished stone, reflecting the flames. And at the far end, on a raised platform, sat a throne of black iron.

And on that throne sits a tall, muscular man, 

The Lycan King.

Kieran Blackthorn.

The Beast King.

I forgot to breathe.

He is not what I expected. The stories painted him as a monster, something barely human. But the man before me was nothing like an animal. He was young, perhaps only a few years older than I am. He is devastatingly beautiful in the way dangerous things are beautiful, sharp and perfect and absolutely terrifying.

He sats with casual power, dressed entirely in black leather and dark fabrics. His hair is long and black, pulled back from his face, revealing features that could have been carved by a master artist. High cheekbones. A strong jaw. A thin scar running from his left eyebrow to his cheek, a mark that only makes him more striking.

But his eyes… His eyes were what stole my breath away

Golden.

Those eyes fixed on me as I entered, and I almost lost my footings. The weight of his attention was like a physical force. Every instinct in my omega nature screams at me to run, to submit, to bare my throat. He is an alpha in the truest sense powerful beyond anything I have encountered, dominant and deadly.

I force myself to walk toward him, my steps echoing in the silent hall. Warriors line the walls here too, all watching. All waiting to see what their king will do.

I stopped at the base of the platform, looking up at him. We are supposed to bow to no one, my mother told me. Alphas do not bow, even to Lycan Kings. But my omega instincts war with that instruction, urging me to drop to my knees.

I compromise, inclining my head slightly in acknowledgment. "Your Majesty," I say, and I am proud that my voice does not shake. "I am Elise Ashford. I have come as agreed, to settle my father's debt."

Kieran does not respond immediately. He studied me in silence, those golden eyes moving over me slowly. I felt exposed, as if he could see through my clothes, through my skin, straight to the truth I am hiding.

Then he rose from his throne and descended the platform steps. 

My heart cut.

He was tall, so much taller than I am and powerfully built. As he approached me, I had to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact.

He stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Up close, he is even more intimidating. I can see the muscles in his arms, the width of his shoulders, the predatory grace in every movement.

He circled me slowly, like a wolf examining prey. I stand frozen, not daring to move, barely daring to breathe. I can feel his presence behind me, feel his eyes on my back, my neck, every vulnerable place.

Then he leaned close, and I felt his breath against my throat as he inhaled.

My heart stops. Was he scenting me? Checking my scent to verify I am what I claim to be.

For a terrible moment, I am certain he will smell the truth. The perfume cannot be perfect. He will know I am an omega. He will know I am lying.

And that would spell doom for me…