Semua Bab Queen of the Ruined: A Villain's Rise: Bab 1 - Bab 10

"Drink!" Lucas’s voice booms through the stone floor above my head. The crystal glasses clink together so hard I hear the sharp, clear ring down here in the dark.Amanda’s high, fake laugh follows right after. "To justice!" she screams. The entire Silver Moon pack roars back in cheer.I press my cheek against the freezing dungeon floor. My body shakes with every breath. The damp stone smells like iron, mold, and my own stale blood. Up there, they are drinking expensive wine. Down here, I am bleeding out in the dirt."Did you really think he would choose a nameless orphan over me?" Amanda had whispered in my ear this morning.I close my eyes, but I cannot shut out the memory of eight hours ago. The courtyard was full. The entire pack stood in a wide circle under the bright morning sun. Lucas, my Alpha, my mate, stood at the top of the marble steps. His golden hair shone like a crown. His blue eyes, the same eyes that looked at me with burning heat just two nights ago, were colder than

"You cost me twelve good men today," a dark, deep voice cuts through the warm air before my eyes even fully open.I flinch, my back slamming hard against a thick, soft mattress. My chest heaves as I scramble backward until my spine hits a solid headboard. The silver burns on my wrists are wrapped in clean white bandages, but my legs buckle when I try to push myself up."Don't bother trying to stand," Lancelot says, turning slowly from the tall stone window frame.The afternoon light frames his broad shoulders. He looks even bigger in this high, stone chamber that smells like iron, wild pine, and heavy alpha dominance. There are no silver chains on my wrists, no damp mud beneath my nails, but the solid iron door behind him is bolted shut from the outside."Where am I?" I demand, my throat raw and scraping like glass."My territory," Lancelot replies coldly, stepping toward the bed with slow, measured strides. "The Black Ridge. You are not a guest, Cecelia. You are a prisoner.""I never

"Seven weeks," Rebecca whispers, her eyes darting nervously toward Lancelot. "The pup's pulse is tied to Alpha Lucas's bloodline. There is no mistaking it."I stare blankly at the dark stone wall across the room, waiting for the blow to fall. I expect disgust. I expect him to push me away, to throw me back into a dungeon cell, or to slice my throat right here on his furs. I was thrown away by my own mate for being unworthy and poor. I know what powerful Alphas do to women carrying another man's heir.Lancelot stands completely still at the foot of the bed. The heavy quiet in the room stretches thin and razor-sharp, filled only with the crackle of torchlight on the wall."Leave us, Rebecca," Lancelot commands, his voice dangerously low.The healer gathers her herbs in a frantic hurry and scurries out, slamming the heavy iron door shut behind her.Lancelot takes three slow, heavy steps toward the bed. He doesn't look angry. His golden eyes are intense, flashing with a raw, terrifying hu

"Hold the blade higher or I will break your arm," Lancelot growls, his voice slicing through the freeze of the pre-dawn air.My chest heaves, blood dripping from my split lip onto the frost-covered gravel of the training yard. I am already down on one knee, my body aching from an hour of self-imposed drills before anyone else woke up. My inner wolf stirs, a dark, dangerous growl rising in her chest for the first time since the mate bond broke.Lancelot doesn't offer a hand to help me up. He steps forward, holding a heavy wooden sparring sword, his eyes cold and unforgiving."Get on your feet," he barks, bringing the practice blade down in a brutal arc.I roll sharply to the left, gravel scraping my skin as I scramble to my feet. I bring my wooden sword up just in time to catch his next strike. The force of his swing vibrates straight through my arms, sending a sharp, stabbing pain down into my ribs.He doesn't hold back. He swings again, going straight for my left shoulder. I block it

"Break the chains!" Lancelot growls, his voice rattling the stone walls as he crashes through the heavy wooden door.My skin is on fire, convulsing with a brutal, delayed heat that feels like hot oil poured directly into my veins. Sweat drenches my torn nightgown, sticking to my chest as I choke on my own ragged breaths. I have bound my own left wrist to the iron bedpost with thick iron cuffs, pulling until the metal bites deep into my raw skin. I didn't chain myself to keep Lancelot out. I chained myself to keep from crawling across the floor and begging him to touch me.The rejected mate bond is tearing my body apart from the inside out, punishing me for denying its pull.Lancelot doesn't hesitate. He strips off his soaked shirt, his bare chest slick with sweat, his eyes bleeding from glowing gold to pitch-black wolf rage. He grips the iron cuffs with his bare hands, the heat radiating off his palm so intense I hear the iron groan under his strength. With one violent wrench, he snap