Chapter 4: The Cold Arrive

The vehicle rumbled through the night. I sat pressed against the leather seat with my bag clutched in my lap. Every bump sent a fresh ache through my chest.

Black Hollow already felt a lifetime away. Elias had handed me an extra coat at the last minute, but that was all. No proper goodbyes. All that was left was fear, quiet and stubborn, sitting in my chest no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.

One of the guards spoke up. “His Majesty doesn’t tolerate delays. We need to make good time.”

The other nodded. “He’s been in a foul mood for weeks. Keep your head down when we arrive. Don’t speak unless spoken to.”

I swallowed hard. I’d heard stories about the Lycan King my whole life. Now his own men talked about him like a storm you had to survive.

Hours dragged on. The marks from the corset still stung under my plain clothes. Sleep never came. Every mile pulled me further from what I knew.

The road started climbing. Mountains rose around us, peaks lost in fog. The air turned colder. When the vehicle finally slowed, I sat up straighter. Massive black gates appeared ahead, flanked by stone walls that seemed to go on forever. Armed soldiers stood watch. No lights. No welcome. Just power.

The Obsidian Citadel.

The gates creaked open. We drove into a wide courtyard. The guards got out first. One opened my door. “We have arrived.”

I stepped out on shaky legs. The mountain air bit at my skin. The Citadel loomed over everything, dark stone, sharp angles, walls so high they blocked most of the sky. It felt cold and unforgiving.

A tall man in uniform came forward. “The king will see her now.”

They led me inside. The halls were wide and dimly lit, full of heavy tapestries and weapons on display. My footsteps echoed too loud. Servants glanced at me but kept their distance.

We stopped in front of towering double doors. My heart pounded hard enough to stir the bond’s ache. I pressed a hand to my chest and tried to breathe.

The doors swung open.

The room stretched out long, with a table covered in maps and papers. But my eyes went straight to the man at the far end. 

Kael Draven.

He didn’t need an introduction. His presence filled the space the second I walked in. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair cut short, features like stone. Black shirt with sleeves rolled up, showing powerful forearms. His sharp gray eyes met mine right away.

Something changed the moment our eyes met. He wasn’t angry. Somehow that felt worse.

One guard spoke. “The bride from Black Hollow Pack, Your Majesty.”

Kael set the paper down and walked toward me. Each step was slow, deliberate. I dropped my gaze fast, hands trembling at my sides.

“They sent you,” he said, voice deep and rough. “The discarded one.”

Heat rushed to my face. I stared at the floor. Of course he knew, news spread quickly in our world.  

“Look at me.”

I lifted my chin. His gaze dropped to the hand pressed against my chest. He took in my tired stance, the tremor I couldn’t hide.

“You’re in pain,” he said.

Back home, nobody even asked if I was hurting.

“The rejection,” I said. “It still hurts.”

Something hard flashed across his face. For a second he looked angry. Not at me. At them.

His hands flexed at his sides, then stilled.

“The contract will be signed in the morning,” he said. “You will stay in the east wing until then. My staff will attend to your needs.”

I nodded.

He turned to one of his men. “Show her to her rooms and make sure she eats.”

The guard stepped forward. As I turned to follow, my foot caught on the edge of a rug. I stumbled.

Kael reached out and caught my arm.

The moment he touched me, my breath caught.

Heat shot through me so fast I forgot how to breathe. The broken bond flared, but this time it wasn’t pain. Something pulled hard toward him. My heart slammed against my ribs. Warmth spread from his grip and chased away the numbness for a dizzy second.

Kael froze. His hand tightened on my arm, just for a moment. His gray eyes locked on mine. Something wild flashed in his eyes before he shut it down.

He let go like my skin had burned him.

“Careful,” he said, voice lower now, strained.

I stepped back quickly. My heart wouldn’t slow down. One touch shouldn’t have mattered. Somehow it did.

The guard cleared his throat. “This way, miss.”

I followed him down the long corridor, feeling Kael’s gaze on my back until the doors closed. My legs felt unsteady the whole way.

The rooms in the east wing were big but cold. Heavy furniture, dark drapes, a fire already going in the hearth. The guard left me after pointing out the basics. I sat on the edge of the bed and pressed my fingers to my arm where he had held me.

The Lycan King.

He was more intimidating than the stories made him sound. Not because he was cruel, but because of that quiet power. 

I wasn’t just a political bride anymore. 

I could see it in the way he had looked at me.

And for some reason, that scared me more than the Citadel itself.