Taken by the Enemy

POV: Ilyra

The wolves attacked before I could cast a single spell.

One slammed into me from the side with enough force to send me crashing into the snow. Cold exploded across my skin as my back hit the frozen ground. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.

A snarl ripped through the clearing.

Hands seized my arms.

Another wolf shifted above me mid-motion, bones cracking violently as fur disappeared and a man emerged where the beast had been. His grip tightened painfully around my wrist.

“Don’t move,” he growled.

His eyes glowed faintly gold in the moonlight.

I tried to summon magic anyway.

Pain shot through my arms immediately.

Iron snapped around my wrists.

I gasped.

The chains burned the instant they touched my skin, cold magic crawling through my veins and crushing the power inside me flat. The amber glow beneath my skin vanished abruptly.

Spellbound iron.

My stomach dropped.

Wolves had prepared for witches long before tonight.

“Careful,” another warrior muttered behind me. “This one’s strong.”

“She crossed into our territory alone,” someone else spat. “Strong or stupid.”

“Maybe both.”

Laughter followed.

I clenched my jaw and forced myself upright despite the chains dragging at my arms. Snow clung to my cloak while cold wind tore through the clearing.

Across from me, Vaelor still knelt in the snow where the curse had overtaken him moments earlier.

But now he looked at me differently.

Not just with suspicion.

Recognition.

The curse inside him still moved beneath his skin. I could see it clearly even through the suppression chains. Black veins lingered faintly against his throat before slowly disappearing beneath pale flesh.

His expression hardened immediately.

“Bring her,” he ordered.

No one argued.

The wolves shoved me forward through the forest while the pack closed tightly around us. Massive shadows moved silently between the trees on either side, some in wolf form, others human.

No one trusted me enough to look away.

The deeper we traveled into Rauvenhollow territory, the stronger the oppressive atmosphere became. Ancient pine forests surrounded the mountain fortress like walls built by nature itself. Snow drifted steadily through the dark while torchlight flickered ahead in the distance.

Then I saw it.

Rauvenhollow Fortress rose from the mountainside like part of the stone itself.

Dark towers cut into the night sky. Massive walls lined with wolves. Iron gates thick enough to survive war.

The moment we entered the courtyard, every conversation stopped.

Eyes turned toward me instantly.

Hatred settled over the fortress like smoke.

“A witch,” someone whispered.

“How did she get inside the borders?”

“Kill her now.”

The reactions spread quickly as we crossed the courtyard. Wolves emerged from training grounds, stairways, and balconies overhead, watching my every movement with open hostility.

Children were pulled behind their mothers.

Warriors reached for weapons instinctively.

The chains around my wrists suddenly felt far too thin.

Inside, the great hall of Rauvenhollow was even larger than I expected. Massive wooden pillars stretched toward the ceiling while firelight danced across stone walls carved with wolf sigils and old battle scenes.

The heat inside hit my frozen skin immediately.

But it did nothing to ease the tension closing around my throat.

They forced me forward until I stood at the center of the hall.

Surrounded.

Every wolf in the room stared at me as though they could already smell blood.

At the far end of the hall, Vaelor ascended several steps toward a carved blackwood chair that served as the Alpha’s seat. He did not sit immediately.

Instead, he watched me.

Cold. Unreadable.

Yet beneath that control, I sensed exhaustion coiled tightly beneath his skin.

The curse was draining him faster than he wanted anyone to know.

A broad-shouldered wolf stepped forward beside the throne. Unlike the others, his hostility seemed restrained beneath caution.

“Alpha,” he said quietly, “this is reckless.”

“I’m aware,” Vaelor replied.

The wolf’s eyes shifted toward me. “Then give the order.”

Murmurs spread instantly through the hall.

Kill her.

The words echoed through the crowd in different voices.

“She crossed sacred borders.”

“She’s a witch.”

“Her kind cursed our Alpha.”

I stiffened.

So they knew.

Not everything perhaps, but enough.

Vaelor finally sat, one arm resting against the dark wood of the throne while silence slowly returned beneath the weight of his authority.

“What is your name?” he asked.

His voice carried easily through the hall.

I lifted my head despite the fear tightening inside me.

“Ilyra.”

“That tells me very little.”

The room waited.

I knew the moment I spoke my surname, everything would become worse.

But hiding it was pointless.

“Ilyra Morwen.”

The reaction was immediate.

The entire hall seemed to freeze.

Several wolves stood abruptly. One cursed aloud. Another reached for a blade.

Even Vaelor went completely still.

For the first time since meeting him, genuine emotion cracked through his control.

Shock.

“Morwen,” he repeated quietly.

My mother’s name sounded strange in his voice.

“You’re Lyseth Morwen’s daughter.”

“Yes.”

The broad-shouldered wolf beside the throne swore under his breath. “Alpha, this ends now. We cannot allow her to live.”

Others immediately agreed.

“Her mother brought this curse upon us.”

“She could be here to finish the job.”

“Kill her before she uses magic.”

The noise escalated quickly.

I tightened my chained hands together, forcing myself to stay calm despite panic rising in my chest.

Then anger cut through the fear.

“You’re wrong,” I snapped.

The room fell silent again.

Every eye turned toward me.

“My mother didn’t curse him out of malice,” I said, glaring directly at Vaelor now. “She was trying to stop something.”

Vaelor’s gaze sharpened dangerously.

“She died trying to save you.”

A growl rippled through the hall.

The broad-shouldered wolf stepped toward me immediately. “Careful, witch.”

But Vaelor raised one hand slightly.

The wolf stopped.

“Leave us,” Vaelor ordered.

No one moved.

“Alpha—”

“Now.”

His voice dropped lower this time, edged with enough Alpha command to vibrate through the room itself.

Reluctantly, the wolves obeyed.

The hall slowly emptied until only Vaelor, myself, and two guards near the doors remained.

Silence settled heavily between us.

Vaelor descended the steps slowly.

Up close, he looked worse than before.

Shadows darkened beneath his eyes. Tension carved itself into every movement. And beneath his skin, the curse still pulsed faintly like something alive.

“You knew my mother,” I said quietly.

His expression hardened immediately. “I killed your mother.”

The bluntness of it stole the air from my lungs.

No hesitation. No remorse.

Just truth.

Pain twisted sharply through my chest, but anger rose stronger.

“She died trying to save you.”

“She bound a curse to my soul.”

“She sealed something inside you.”

His jaw tightened.

“And whatever she sealed is destroying me.”

“Because the spell was incomplete.”

The words came faster now.

“You think she wanted this? She didn’t have a choice. She was dying.”

A flicker crossed his face then.

Memory.

Guilt perhaps.

But it vanished quickly.

“You expect me to trust the daughter of the woman who ruined my life?”

“I expect you to listen before it’s too late.”

The curse stirred visibly beneath his skin at my words. I saw it in the slight tension running through his shoulders.

He felt it too.

“It’s breaking,” I continued carefully. “I can sense it already. Whatever’s inside you is waking up.”

His eyes locked onto mine.

For one brief moment, I saw something beneath the anger.

Fear.

Then the walls slammed back into place.

“No,” he said coldly.

My stomach tightened. “Vaelor—”

“I don’t trust witches.”

“I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re your mother’s daughter.”

The words landed harder than they should have.

He turned away from me abruptly.

“Take her to the lower cells,” he ordered the guards.

Anger flared hot inside me. “If the seal breaks, people will die.”

Vaelor stopped near the base of the throne steps but didn’t turn around.

“Then they’ll die.”

The coldness in his voice stunned me silent.

The guards seized my arms again and dragged me from the hall before I could speak further.

Stone corridors twisted deep beneath the fortress until the air turned damp and bitterly cold. Torches flickered weakly against ancient walls lined with iron-barred cells.

The dungeon.

One guard unlocked a heavy door while the other shoved me inside hard enough to stumble.

Chains rattled painfully against my wrists.

The cell door slammed shut.

Iron locks clicked into place.

Then silence returned.

I stood alone in darkness for several moments before slowly sinking onto the narrow stone bench against the wall.

Exhaustion hit me all at once.

The journey. The capture. Vaelor.

Gods.

He was worse than my mother’s journals described.

Not cruel exactly.

Broken.

And whatever lived inside him…

A chill crawled slowly down my spine.

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to think.

Trying not to panic.

That was when I felt it.

Something brushed softly against my mind.

I froze instantly.

The dungeon remained silent.

Empty.

Yet the sensation lingered.

Watching.

Aware.

Then a voice whispered through the darkness inside my skull.

Low. Ancient. Hungry.

“You feel familiar.”

My eyes snapped open.

The cell was empty.

But deep beneath Rauvenhollow Fortress—

Something had noticed me.