04

CORA

“Keep moving.”

The guard shoved me forward, and I stumbled into the hall. The smell hit first, burnt ash and dried blood. My stomach twisted, but I kept my head down. The silver band on my wrist pulsed, sharp and hot against my skin, a reminder not to try anything stupid.

The doors slammed behind me, echoing across the stone. The room was bigger than I expected, walls lined with torches that burned low, throwing uneven light. A fire roared at the center, and three heavy chairs circled it. The leather was still warm, darkened where someone had been sitting.

The guards didn’t say a word. They stayed near the door like they didn’t want to go any farther. I stood still, trying not to show how hard my hands were shaking.

Then I heard footsteps.

A man stepped out from the shadows on the far end. Broad shoulders, black shirt, steady eyes. His face was calm, but there was no kindness in it. He looked at me like I was a problem.

“Name,” he said.

My throat was dry. “Cora.”

He didn’t react. His eyes moved down, then back up, slow and deliberate. The silence stretched until I wanted to scream just to break it.

He walked closer, his steps even. “Do you know where you are?”

I shook my head.

“Good.” He turned away, as if that was all he needed to know.

The guards exchanged uneasy looks. One muttered, “She’s the one from the border.”

The door opened again.

Another man walked in, dragging his claws along the stone wall. The sound was low and grating. He was taller than the first, leaner, eyes dark and cold. He stopped beside him, his gaze landing on me like he was deciding what I was worth.

“She’s smaller than I thought,” he said.

“She’s standing right here,” I said quietly, before I could stop myself.

The room went still.

The first man raised a brow. The second one smirked, the kind that never reached his eyes.

“Brave,” he said, stepping closer, “or stupid.”

I stepped back until I hit the edge of one of the chairs. My fingers curled into my palms to stop them from shaking.

He stopped in front of me, close enough that I could smell the faint trace of iron and smoke on him. His gaze dropped to the band around my wrist.

“Who marked her?” he asked.

“No one,” the first man said. “She came like that.”

The second man studied me again, his expression unreadable. “Then she’s not normal.”

The word hung in the air like an insult.

He reached out, his hand pausing just above the silver, and I froze. Every part of me locked in place.

“Enough. He’ll definitely kill you if you try anything stupid,” the first man said, his voice even but cold.

The second man looked at him, annoyed, then dropped his hand. He turned away, brushing past me.

“We’ll see what she really is,” he said.

The door slammed shut behind me, and I flinched at the sound.

“Bring her forward,” the first man said.

The guards pushed me closer to the fire. Heat hit my face, too close, too strong. I didn’t look at them, only at the two men standing across from me: one quiet, one cruel.

Then the door opened again.

The guards straightened immediately. Both men turned and everywhere immediately turned uncomfortable.

Liam walked in.

The room fell silent.

He didn’t look at anyone else, only at me. His coat was black, his eyes colder than I remembered. He stopped near the fire, his expression unreadable, but the faint flicker of something: recognition, anger or maybe both crossed his face before it disappeared again.

The first man stepped aside slightly, lowering his head. “Alpha.”

He didn’t look like the others. His shirt was half undone, his hair damp, like he’d just come from a fight. But his eyes—his eyes didn’t move from me once. The same man who’d spoken earlier now watched me like I was something he didn’t understand.

“Start,” Liam said to the priest standing near the torches.

The old man fumbled with a scroll and stepped forward. His hands shook as he unrolled it. The parchment looked old, the letters barely visible. He cleared his throat, muttered a few words, then froze when the flames jumped higher.

“Keep going,” Liam said, his tone sharp.

The priest hesitated. “Alpha…”

Alpha. That name made me look up. Liam, the oldest of the three brothers. Ronan, the middle one. Cade, the youngest.

“Do it,” Liam ordered.

The old man flinched and began reading again, faster this time. His voice trembled. I didn’t understand the language, but each word seemed to press down on the room, heavy and strange.

Then my wrist began to sting.

At first, I thought it was from the fire, but the pain spread under the silver band, pulsing like something alive. I tried to hide it, but the faint glow showed through the metal.

Ronan noticed first. “What the hell is that?” he asked, stepping forward. The light caught on his claws, and the air shifted.

The priest’s voice cracked, and the scroll slipped from his hands.

“It’s not supposed to react,” he said quickly, his voice shaking.

The room went still. Liam’s attention snapped to me. He stepped closer, slow and controlled, his tone flat. “What do you mean not supposed to react?”

The priest bent to pick up the scroll, his hands trembling harder. “The mark, Alpha. It’s not a normal seal. It shouldn’t glow unless….”

“Unless what?” Ronan cut in.

The priest looked between them, then at me. “Unless she’s bound.”

“Bound to what?” Cade asked.

No one spoke.

The band burned hotter. My breath caught, and I grabbed my wrist, trying to stop the pain. It didn’t help. It felt like something under my skin was trying to break through.

Liam moved closer and caught my hand. The heat vanished the moment he touched me. The silence that followed was sharp enough to cut through the air.

“Let her go,” Ronan said quietly.

Liam didn’t. His eyes stayed on mine, confused.

Liam’s stare was colder now, not curious anymore—something darker had replaced it.

“Liam,” Cade warned.

“She’s not….” Liam started, then stopped, his jaw tightening.

Ronan turned to him. “Not what?”

Liam’s voice dropped lower. “She’s not supposed to be marked.”

“She was brought here as an offering,” Cade said, still calm. “Nothing more.”

The priest stepped back. “Alpha, please, it’s reacting. That means….”

“Enough,” Liam snapped.

Ronan swore under his breath. “What the fuck did you bring here, Liam?”

“I don’t know,” Liam said, but it sounded like he didn’t believe himself. His grip on my wrist tightened. I could feel his pulse under his skin, the warmth between us pulling tighter.

The priest suddenly dropped to his knees. “This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he whispered. His eyes darted to me, terrified. “She’s not meant to be an offering.”

The room froze. Even the fire seemed to quiet.

Cade turned to him. “What did you say?”

The priest swallowed. “The mark chose her.”

I didn’t move. No one did.

Liam stepped in front of me, his shoulders tense, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—his eyes were different now. Darker and focused. Fixed on me like everything else had disappeared.

“She’s not an offering,” he said, his tone final.

Ronan frowned. “Then what the hell is she?”

Liam didn’t blink. “She’s our mate.”