Chapter Six: Facing the Wolves

The cold stone floor sent a chill right through the soles of my boots. Every step I took echoed off the high walls, making me feel like I was marching straight to my own death.

Two guards walked ahead of me, their heavy armor clanking with every step. Two more kept close behind. They weren't escorting a guest to a room; they were walking a prisoner to a trial.

“Keep moving,” the guard on my left growled.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced myself to keep my head up. For eighteen years in the Ironmoon Pack, Beta Marcus had taught me to shrink back and keep my head down. He wanted me invisible, just a useless servant who stayed out of the way.

But I wasn't in the Ironmoon Pack anymore.

I looked down at my wrists, taking in the raw red marks left behind by the iron chains Valen had snapped with his bare hands. I wasn't just some nobody. I had the silver bloodline of the First Lycans running through my veins.

“Breathe,” a soft, calm voice whispered in the back of my mind. It was the same ancient voice that had woken up inside me the moment Valen claimed me. “They’re just afraid of what they don’t know.”

Before I could figure out what that meant, the huge wooden doors at the end of the hall swung open with a heavy scrape.

The council chamber was a massive circular room made of dark stone. Rows of seats curved around the walls, packed with pack leaders, elders, and nobility. The room felt crowded and heavy, thick with the sharp scent of angry wolf energy.

Sitting on a massive golden chair in the very center was King Valen.

He looked every bit as dangerous as the stories said. He wore dark leather and black fur, his broad shoulders filling out the throne easily. His messy dark hair fell across his forehead, but it was his bright golden eyes that caught mine the second I stepped into the room.

The moment our eyes met, a strange wave of heat ran down my spine. The mate bond tugged at my chest like a tight string. He didn't move, but I saw his jaw tighten as he looked me over, making sure I wasn't hurt from the ambush in the woods.

“Bring her forward,” a sharp voice called out.

Lady Karen stepped out from the front row. She was beautiful, with sleek blonde hair and a dark blue silk dress. But her light eyes were icy as she stared at me with pure disgust.

The guards pushed me into the center of the room, forcing me to stand on a silver seal carved into the floor.

“Your Majesty,” Karen said, bowing her head slightly toward Valen. “The council wants to know why this girl is walking free in the castle. Her bloodline is Nightshade, the same line that nearly destroyed our ancestors!”

A wave of loud, angry murmurs broke out across the room.

“She’s a spy!” a heavy-set man shouted from the back.

“Throw her in the cells!” another called out.

“Our crops are rotting, and our land is dying! We don't need an enemy in our home!”

I stood stuck in place as all that hatred washed over me. My heart hammered against my ribs, but I kept my eyes fixed on Valen.

Valen slowly leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The second he moved, the entire room went completely quiet. His presence was so heavy that even the oldest elders lowered their heads.

“Are you done?” Valen asked. His voice was low, smooth, and scary calm.

Karen froze, her jaw tightening. “Your Majesty, the law is simple. Anyone with Nightshade blood found in the city is executed. We can’t afford to be soft when our realm is falling apart!”

“She’s not here because I’m being soft, Karen,” Valen said, standing up from his seat.

He walked down the stone steps slowly, his heavy boots clicking against the floor. Everyone watched in silence as he walked right into the middle of the room and stopped right beside me. The heat coming off his body cut through the cold air like a blanket.

“She’s here,” Valen said, turning to look at the crowd, “because she’s the only person alive who can open the Sunken Vault.”

Gasping went around the room. Karen’s face went pale.

“The Sunken Vault?” she said, taking a step back. “That’s just a myth! A story for kids!”

“It’s not a myth,” Valen growled, his voice deep enough to shake the stone under our feet. “The vault is right under this throne. And without her silver blood to open it, this whole kingdom will be dust before winter.”

He turned back to look at me, his golden eyes searching my face.

“So,” Valen announced to the room, “I am using my power to give her sanctuary. Lyra stays in the castle under my watch. She has thirty days to translate the ancient treaty and open the vault.”

“And what if she can’t?” Karen demanded, glaring at me with open hatred. “What if she fails?”

Valen didn't hesitate. He kept his eyes locked on mine.

“If she fails,” Valen said quietly, “or if she turns out to be a traitor... I will end her myself.”

A heavy quiet fell over the room. A chill ran down my back, but when I looked into his eyes, I didn't see hatred. I saw a silent message: Don't fail me.

“Thirty days,” Karen spat, narrowing her eyes. “And she gets watched day and night. If she makes one wrong move, we take care of it.”

“Fine,” Valen said.

He stepped closer and reached out, his hand wrapping around my wrist. The moment his skin touched mine, a tiny spark of electricity rushed up my arm.

Valen leaned down, his lips brushing close to my ear so only I could hear him.

“Welcome to the castle, little wolf,” he whispered. “Now let’s see if you can actually save my kingdom.”