CHAPTER FOUR

Lyra’s pov

I woke to the sharp clang of iron against stone and the grating snarl of a guard dragging open my cell door.

“Up. Now,” the gruff voice barked.

My body screamed in protest. Every bruise, every cut, every ache roared awake as I struggled to my feet. My shoulder throbbed from being yanked around yesterday, and my knees felt like they’d shatter if I bent them wrong. But I moved. I had to.

Tessa and the other girls snickered from their corners, whispering curses and mocking laughs. My welcome committee.

I was shoved into the grand hall again. I got to look at it properly now, it had very high ceilings with dark stone, lit by torches. My bare feet stuck to the floor, damp with who knew what.

And there he sat.

King Ronan.

Perched on his blackened throne like a shadow made flesh, his golden eyes fixed on me the moment I stepped in. Cold, unblinking, burning.

Was his wolf always at the surface?

My stomach twisted violently.

“Your first day,” his quiet voice said. Smooth as silk, deadly as a blade. “You will serve me.”

A silver tray was thrust into my trembling hands, filled with a kettle and cups. Hot liquid sloshed dangerously close to the edge.

“Do not spill,” he murmured, that voice sinking beneath my skin. “If you do...you’ll clean it with your tongue.”

A shudder rolled down my spine. His face was unreadable. Not cruel. Not kind. Just...watching. Always watching. Like a predator playing with its food.

I limped forward, every movement a knife in my side. My wrist burned from the bruises, but I gripped the tray tighter. The whole hall was silent except for the scrape of my slow, uneven steps.

One wrong move. One slip. And I’d feel his wrath.

I reached him at last, setting the tray carefully on the small table beside him. His gaze never left me. The tea wobbled in its cup from the tremble in my fingers. I swallowed hard and poured. Not a drop spilled.

“Good girl,” he said, voice low. “You learn fast.”

But behind me, I heard Chloe’s soft huff of annoyance. Based off everything I heard Tessa and the others saying last night she was the pretty she-wolf who believed she was the king’s destined mate. Her glare burned holes in my back. I dared not look.

“She shouldn’t even be here,” Chloe muttered to the others. “A filthy, pathetic thing like her, serving him. Touching his cup.”

I stiffened, keeping my face neutral. Ronan’s eyes flicked past me toward the sound, but he said nothing. The quiet stretched on and on.

Hours passed or maybe minutes, I couldn’t tell. I served his meal, pouring wine, standing as still as my battered body allowed while the court wolves sneered and whispered.

I hadn't eaten for days but that was the least of my worries.

Later that night, when I returned to the servant’s quarters, Tessa and the others were waiting.

“Look at the king’s new pet,” Tessa sneered, arms crossed, her lips curled with hate. “Think you’re special because he didn’t snap your neck today?”

One of her friends, Mira, shoved me hard. My shoulder lit with fire and I stumbled into the wall.

“You should’ve died in the forest like the worthless mongrel you are,” she spat.

They cornered me, laughter echoing off the cold stone, filling at my ears. But I said nothing. I’d learned long ago that begging only made things worse.

Chloe appeared in the doorway, arms folded over her perfect curves, a cruel smile playing on her lips.

“Enjoy this while it lasts, omega,” she purred. “He’ll tire of you soon. And then...well. No one will save you then. If I were you I'd thread carefully around me. I'm easily irritated and only the gods know what I will do if you get on my nerves on day.”

For days it went on like this. Whispers. Shoves. Spilled water on my cot. Rotten food slipped into my meals. My body was breaking slowly, piece by piece, but I held on. Because I had to.

Until the day Mira tripped me.

It was the afternoon meal in the great hall. I was carrying another tray filled with bread, meat, wine. My steps were slow but steady. I could feel King Ronan’s gaze, always watching.

And then—

A foot.

Coming out at the last second.

I gasped, stumbling forward. The tray fell, the contents sliding off. Pain jolted up my leg as my knees hit the stone hard.

Laughter. Soft and cruel.

Mira’s smile, only for me to see.

But the room fell silent.

Dead silent.

I felt the weight of his presence before I even lifted my head.

The king rose from his throne, each step echoing loud and slow against the stone. His scent wrapped around me as he passed.

Mira straightened, eyes wide now. Confused. But smug.

“Your Majesty, I—”

She never finished.

His hand shot out blindingly fast.

And ripped her throat clean from her body.

The sound was wet, sharp, horrible. Mira crumpled to the floor without a sound, blood pouring from the ruin of her neck.

King Ronan stood over her, holding her throat in his hand like a trophy. His golden gaze swept the stunned crowd.

“Let this be a lesson,” he said softly. Dangerously. “She was foolish enough to forget who this slave belongs to.”

He dropped the bloody flesh to the floor.

“She is mine,” he growled. “Mine to command. Mine to touch. Mine to break. No one else.”

His power filled the room, thick and suffocating, pushing against every wolf in the room. I could barely breathe.

He turned his gaze on me.

“Come.”

My heart stopped.

No. No no no.

This was it. My death. My punishment for daring to exist in his court.

I scrambled to my feet, wobbling, clutching my burning side. My knees buckled but I kept moving. I had no choice. His stare drew me like a thread around my throat.

He strode from the hall without looking back, his voice low and final.

“Follow. Now.”

The other servants shrank away. Chloe’s face had gone pale, her mouth tight with rage and something else, fear.

I limped after him, my breath hitching, my chest tight.

Down long corridors of black stone. Past snarling guards. Past doors that held secrets.

To a chamber at the end of a long, dark hall.

His rooms.

He held the door open, golden eyes glinting.

“Inside.”

My heart slammed in my chest, cold sweat soaking my skin. This was it. The end.

I stepped through the door.

He closed it behind me.