▪️Kaelis' Pov▪️

The stench of rot hit me first before I could open my eyes to the  thick darkness as the only source of light came from a little crack in the door.

I tried to move my hand but it burned and was stretched above me. The ache spread down to my spine and my throat felt torn.

I tried to swallow but the effort only scraped the inside of my throat. My tongue was dry and heavy as I parted my lips, hoping some sound would come but nothing left me.

A groan escaped my throat-- coarse and broken like I had been screaming.

 Had I?

I pulled once and hard but the chains did not budge instead the iron cut deeper into my skin until I had to stop. 

Where was I?

How long had I been here?

The question hit hard.

I tried to search my mind, but when I reached for answers-- all I could find was emptiness-- a blank slate that should have harboured my memories but still nothing. I pressed harder as I tried to drag something or anything from the shadows.

Nothing came.

Still nothing came.

The blankness scared me more than the chains.

My heart kicked against my ribs, wild and desperate. I searched the darkness for answers, but all I found was the taste of fear in my mouth.

A rat ran near the corner, its squeaks drowned out by the sound of multiple boots in the corridor.

"Spy!"

"Trespasser!"

"Enemy wolf!"

The voices sounded way too loud to not be close as I searched to find where they came from and I heard loud laughter just outside the door and I could not see who spoke.

Enemy wolf?

What were they talking about?

Who are they talking about?

I searched myself over and over again, way too desperate to understand whatever was going on but my thoughts still could not align until panic washed over me. 

I heard keys clanking as the door slammed open as two men walked in. Their rough hands grabbed me as they dragged me forward. The chains rattled as I stumbled and my knees crashing against the hard floor. 

Pain hit me hard as my legs scraped the floor and my hands hurt badly when they were dropped to the ground and the chains were removed. 

Voices barked questions at me, each one louder than the former 

"Who sent you?"

"What do you want in Silvermaw territory?"

"Why are you here?"

The names and places struck my ears like foreign sounds. I tried to open my mouth, searching for the truth or the right answers but nothing came up, yet again.

I lifted my head, but my vision was blurred. "I... I don't know," my voice croaked as the words scraped out of my broken throat. "I... I don't remember." My voice sounding weak.

The men looked at each other-- disgust twisted their faces.

"Lies!" One of them spat.

The first blow landed across my cheek causing my head to snap to the side-- the taste of blood flooding my mouth. Before I could recover another fist drive into my stomach-- my breath ceased. 

I fell over gagging and gasping for breath that would not come.

Cold water poured down on me into my mouth, my nose and filling every space. I choked, desperate for air with my chest heaving and my lungs burning as I coughed but it only forced more water down my throat.

Right there-- I thought I would die... Without a name or a reason.

When it stopped, I collapsed forward,  gagging and coughing out water until my throat burned-- my body trembling from the cold. My hair clung to my face and dripping against my skin.

Why was this happening?

Why could I not answer them?

Why did my mind feel like it had been locked away?

Why was I alone?

The guards lifted their fists again, ready to continue as my body flinched even before the next hit came. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for it. I hated myself for the way my body cowered.

The sound of the door slamming open froze the room.

The air around was charged with an aura I could not explain. Even before I lifted my head, I had felt it-- the pressure, the power that  rolled in like a storm.

The guards dropped their hands at once as the silence was deafening.

A tall figure with broad shoulders walked in-- his steps slow but heavy, his presence thick with power and the air seemed to bend around him.

The guards' heads bowed low as the air pressed down on me until I felt small and fragile.

The man's voice rolled through the silence-- deep and sharp. 

"Release her."

Without hesitation, the chains that once held me were snapped free and my hands dropped-- too numb to catch myself. I stumbled forward coughing.

Who was he?

Why was he releasing me?

Before I could gather my thoughts, I was being dragged again across the ground-- I had barely lifted my head. My eyes blurred from tears but the lights ahead grew bright with every step and the light burnt my eyes after being in the dark for too long.

They dragged me into a vast hall that was lit with fire. Torches burned high, their flames casting long shadows across the walls, the air smelled of smoke and steel. Silver banners hung down and shining against the stones-- each one marked with a snarling wolf's head.

Rows of men and women stood on both side of the walls, their eyes watching me with open hatred and suspicion.

At the end of the hall sat a throne, and on it the same man who had spoken earlier. In the light, he was more massive than I had thought and his eyes were golden but cold-- his hair was dark with a silver streak at the tip. His jaw was chiseled and power clung to him in every breath and in every glance.

I knew without asking.

He must be their leader.

My chest tightened as his gaze locked onto mine.

"The Kaelis Dreadmoor," he said. His voice echoing in the hall. "Enemy to Silvermaw."

Kaelis?

"Kaelis," I whispered but the name struck me like a knife. It sounded all too strange and foreign like it did not belong to me.

"I don't... I don't know that name."

The hall erupted at once-- voices screamed over one another.

"Liar!"

"Spy!"

"Burn her!"

Their fury shook me to my bones as I wrapped my arms around myself, pressing my nails into my palms to keep myself from falling apart.

"You dare play with my intelligence?" He roared.

"No!" I retorted.

"You walk into my land, you carry Ashfang blood and now you kneel before me..."

Ashfang?

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice out though it shook. "I don't... I don't understand. I don't know who I am and I have no idea why I am here."

"She mocks us!"

"Kill her now!"

The man on the throne raised his hand and silence fell again. His eyes never left mine. "You dare claim you know nothing?"

My hands trembled against my knees. "I swear I don't know anything. Not my name or this place. Nothing! Please, I beg you."

His eyes narrowed as anger sparked through them. The air in the hall grew heavy, pressing down on me until my breath came in short gasps.

"You stand before me and expect mercy with lies?" He said.

Panic surged through me as my pulse thudded in my ears. I shook my head fast and desperate. "No... No. I swear, I don't know. I don't know who you are and I don't know what you want from me."

He rose from the throne and stepped down, each footstep echoing against the floor. I shrank back, my hands shaking against the floor and my body was too weak to stand. Every instinct screamed to bow lower, to hide but I forced myself to look up at him through the blurred vision. 

He grabbed me by the neck and raised me up as tears spilled down my cheeks. "Please... I beg... of you," my voice breaking with every word.

His grip got tighter suffocating me when a voice came from the shadows, cutting through the heat of his rage.

"She is not lying."

The hall froze.

A figure stepped forward, hood drawn low and face hidden. The voice was calm and certain, carrying a strange weight that made even the golden eyed man pause.

"She doesn't remember and she speaks the truth," the figure said.

He slowly left me and I fell to the ground gasping for air as the doors were opened with a loud bang.

A small body was carried in side-- a pup. His fur clung to his frame, his chest rising in short gasps. His cries were faint and full of pain.

They laid him down before the throne and seeing him led to something inside me to crack-- wide open.

Before I realised what I was doing, I was on my knees beside him as my trembling hands reached for him, afraid I would hurt him more but I couldn't stop myself.

A warmth stirred inside me-- at first it was faint, like a breath but it grew stronger, pulsing through my hands. 

A soft glow shimmered against his fur and my breath caught. 

The pup calmed and his gasps became even, body relaxed and pain eased.

I looked up slowly.

The man had risen from his throne, his expression have nothing away.

"You may stay," he said, his voice calm but edged with danger. "For now."

He stepped closer, every movement was controlled and his eyes were locked on mine.

"But know this," his voice dropped, sharp enough to cut steel. "Silvermaw devors liars."

Kaelis' pov

I could not sleep all through the night I had spent here- I had spent it staring at the empty walls that surrounded me.

I was moved into a chamber that was bare- the walls were cold and damp. A cot stood in the corner and the mattress had a hole in the middle. 

The blanket was rough and itchy against my skin and a small hole- wouldn't be caught dead calling it a window. It wasn't for ventilation... that was for sure. 

The room had no table or chair or anything that would have served as comfort.

This was what they called a room for me but it felt not so different from the prison I had woken up in.

I sucked my teeth when the thought of the king saying this was how they treated their guest rushed into me. 

"Guest, my ass," I murmured, barely audible.

I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to calm the wild thudding of my heart. I told myself to breathe slow, to stay calm, but it did not help as my body got tensed and restless, my hands shaking when I brought them together.

At sunrise, a noise broke the silence as the clashing of metal against metal, sharp enough to make me flinch. I turned my head just in time to see a tray shoved through the gap at the bottom of the door. The food clattered as it scraped across the s floor. The sound echoed in the bare chamber, louder than it should have been.

"Eat, Ashfang spy," a guard spat, his voice thick with disgust. He made the word spy sound like filth, like it was something rotten in his mouth.

The door slammed shut again with a force that made the walls to quake and the lock scraped into place. The footsteps faded, leaving me alone again with the tray of food and the silence.

The smell of the food overwhelmed my senses- salty and sour. My hands shook when I reached for it, I wanted to throw it back at the door, scream that I wasn't who they thought I was but the hunger clawing inside me won. 

I pulled the tray closer, eating with slow bites, each swallow burning down my throat.

I had been called Ashfang... the word sounded familiar but I still couldn't place it.

Was it a place?

Was it mine?

The questions circled my thoughts until my head hurt.

When dawn came, I had not closed my eyes once.

The door slammed open. Two soldiers stepped inside, silver chains hanging at their belts. Their eyes gleamed with open hate.

"On your feet," one barked.

I rose, legs stiff and my body aching. They flanked me and marched me like a cow to the slaughter through narrow halls until the air grew heavier. I could already hear voices ahead, low growls of anticipation.

At the center of the hall, a circle had been drawn with silver dust. Its edges glimmered in the light. 

The man on the throne sat waiting, his golden gaze fixed on me from the moment I entered. He didn't waste time with questions as his voice rolled through the hall, calm but sharp.

"You stand here not to speak," he said, "but to prove. Words are nothing and the truth is what matters."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My stomach twisted with the fear and anticipation curling inside me like a living thing. 

He gestured, and the silver dust flared in the light. "This is the Trial of Truth. Only one who is sincere will leave this circle alive. Those who lie... will die. Choose your actions wisely, Kaelis Dreadmoor. The people of Silvermaw will watch and they will cheer your fall if you fail. They will honor your strength if you survive."

A voice in the crowd hissed, sharp, cruel: "Burn the spy! Burn her alive!"

My throat tightened as the sound swallowed me. I felt small, trapped, their hatred pressing in from every side.

The man on the throne  raised his hand and the chamber fell silent, his eyes stayed locked on me.

"If you are sincere, you will survive," he said. "If not, your body will break before us. Either way, the truth will be known."

The hall erupted in cheers. I could taste their desire for my death in the air.

I wanted to speak. To tell him again I didn't remember, that I wasn't lying but his gaze told me it no longer mattered- the  time for words was gone.

From the far side of the circle, a heavy figure was dragged into the middle. Another prisoner. Broad, tall, muscles tensed like coiled steel. He sneered, showing teeth white against his scarred face. 

My stomach flipped. 

The king stepped back, his hands folding behind his back. "Begin."

The guards shoved me forward into the center of the arena. My legs trembled, my arms ached, my breathing came in shallow gasps. Sweat dripped down my skin despite the cold as I I lifted my fists instinctively, feeling the familiar weight of my body against gravity, the instinct to defend myself rising.

The man lifted his sword and advanced. The first strike came fast, slicing through the air where I had been standing a few seconds before. I twisted, narrowly avoiding it, and causing me to stumble, catching myself just in time. 

He swung again, slower this time, calculating. I blocked instinctively, pushing with all my strength. The force knocked me back two steps. 

"You are fast," he growled, wiping blood from his mouth. "But not fast enough."

My chest burned, ribs screaming, but I rolled forward, using momentum to pivot behind him.

My mind flared with surprise... I... I knew where to move before he struck. How? My thoughts were blank, but my body moved like it remembered every battle I had never consciously learned.

He turned, raised his sword, and struck again. I ducked, my knees scraping the floor, twisting low to strike at his legs. He staggered slightly, but he was fast way too fast.

Pain exploded in my shoulder as he backhanded me. I stumbled backward, tasting blood. My vision blurred, sweat and blood dripping into my eyes. I wanted to scream, to give up, to collapse-but something inside me refused.

I ducked another strike, moved and grabbed the hilt of his sword as it passed, twisting with all my strength. He roared behind his helm, and for a moment, his balance faltered. I drove him back, forcing him to step aside.

"How am I doing this?" My chest heaved, each breath burning.

Another swing. I ducked low, and struck. His sword clanged against the stone, sparks flying. My muscles screamed, my body trembling, but I kept moving, dodging, striking, pushing him to his limits.

The crowd roared. Some cheered, some jeered, others whispered among themselves. I didn't hear them- all I could hear was the pounding of my heart and the sound of my own breaths ripping through my chest.

I twisted again, narrowly avoiding a blow to my head. Pain flared down my side as he kicked, sending me stumbling. 

My knees bled and my vision blurred- I gasped, tasting blood in my mouth.

I pushed forward, kicked, twisted and rolled again. Each strike I made, each block, each dodge was precise, instinctive. My mind raced, heart hammering, chest heaving, and yet part of me was calm. 

My body knew. 

My body moved before I thought about it.

His armor left a gap at the side- finally an opening. I struck, knocking him to the ground. 

He hit hard, the breath forced from his lungs, but I did not bring my blade down to finish him. My chest heaved, sweat and blood dripping from my hair and arms. I looked down at him as he struggled beneath me, eyes wide, breathing hard.

I stepped back, shaking and exhausted. My muscles screamed, every joint aching, but I had held back. I would not be the killer they expected. 

The crowd gasped, murmuring in disbelief. Shock rippled through the hall; the murmurs became whispers of awe and anger.

The man stepped forward from the throne, his expression unreadable, cold and calculating.

"You survived," he said finally. His voice echoed in the hall, carrying weight. "Few do. That makes you... dangerous."

I staggered slightly, knees trembling, and my eyes found the hooded figure again. His gaze met mine across the hall. Lips moving silently. One word formed in my mind, striking deep: 

Mate.

Kaelis' pov

The past two weeks had changed me in ways I did not expect. At first, I thought I would break, but had they let me help in the clinic, and that work kept me standing. 

I carried water for the healers, held down bandages, steadied trembling hands when patients were too weak to lift themselves.

It was not much, but it was enough to remind me I was not completely useless. Even when my hands shook, even when my stomach turned at the sight of wounds, I forced myself through it.

The King had also moved me from that cage they first called a room. Now I slept in a chamber with sunlight pouring through wide windows every morning. I could see the sky, the trees dancing in the distance, and when I stepped close enough, I could even feel the warmth of the sun across my face. The mattress was still hard and the blanket scratchy, but compared to where I had been, it felt like another world.

Why give me comfort now after keeping me in a place that felt like a cage?

And in those quiet hours, when the work of the clinic was done, my thoughts returned again and again to that night in the arena- when I first felt my bond snap.

The sound of it still haunted me. 

It settled in my chest like a fire that would not go out. I remembered the way his eyes had found mine, sharp and unshaken- every time the memory rose, my breath grew unsteady, and I hated it... I hated the way it left me shaken... I hated more the silence that followed because he had not appeared since.

A soft knock broke my thoughts.

My head turned sharply toward the door. For a moment, I didn't move. My pulse climbed as though something waited behind it. 

Finally, I forced my voice steady. "Enter."

The door creaked open.

A girl- a bit younger than I was stepped inside, quick on her feet, carrying a tray with folded clothes. She set it down carefully as her movements were too precise, as if she was trained not to spill a single drop of air. Her eyes lifted, steady, meeting mine with an expression I could not read.

"My name is Myra," she said, her voice smooth, not unkind but not soft either. "I am your handmaid, assigned by King Soren. I am here to help you prepare for the festival tonight."

The name stung like a spark across my skin. 

King Soren.

I straightened on the bed, my hand tightening on the blanket until they hurt. I did not answer at once, as my eyes were fixed on her face, searching for a trick or  a hint of mischief behind her calm.

My lips felt dry as I shaped the words. "And this King Soren... he is the ruler of Silvermaw?" My voice quiet but edged.

Myra nodded once, not breaking her gaze.

I let out a breath, slow but controlled. "Why would a king give me a handmaid?" My voice trembled but I held it together. 

Her answer came smooth, practiced. "Because you are his guest."

I studied her carefully, eyes narrowing, waiting for some crack in her mask. I added at last, though my voice came out softer than I meant.

"Since when does a prisoner earn that kind of service?"

She did not flinch. "That was then. Now the King has ordered me to care for you- food, clothes, whatever you require."

I let out a soft chuckle. "And if I reject it?"

"If you resist, the guards will drag you instead." Her face wore a wild smile that was way too fake but for the first time, her eyes flickered- as if she could smell my unease.

I let out a long breath and rose slowly from the bed. "Fine," I muttered, eyeing the fabric like it was some sort of trap.

Two other maids slipped in quietly, carrying more gowns, they spread them across the bed. 

"You must be washed first. It is not proper to wear these without cleansing." Myra added.

The water smelled of lavender and it clung to me as they poured it down my back. Drops slid over my body as it was running to the floor. My body felt lighter, almost strange as if I was being peeled clean layer by layer.

When they finished with the whole makeover, one of the maids held up a polished metal plate. My reflection stared back at me- my face was pale, my eyes darker than I remembered, framed by braids weaved with silver. The gown shined with each movement, making me look like someone I didn't recognize.

The drums outside beat louder now, steady and deep, vibrating through the walls as Myra stepped back and looked me over- like a proud artist looks at his paintings.

"Good," she said. "It is time."

The maids led me through the halls, their footsteps soft, my own loud in my ears. We stepped into the open courtyard- people filled the space, laughter mixing with shouts, the crowd alive with song. Drums beat in rhythm, shaking the ground beneath my feet.

And then my eyes found him- King Soren.

He stood at the edge of the throne- tall and broad, golden eyes glittering like firelight but he was not alone.

The hooded figure stood close beside him as his shoulders were tense, his head bent, his voice low. 

I could not hear the words, but I saw the way his hand clenched tight at his side, the way his body leaned forward as if dragging with restraint.

Soren listened, his gaze sharp, unreadable then his eyes slid past him and landed on me.

The hooded man followed that gaze too.

Even across the distance, I felt the pull. My chest tightened, my skin tingled, as my eyes locked on them, and the world narrowed to that single line between us.

Then, without warning, he turned... the cloak swallowed him as he vanished into the crowd, leaving me standing with my heart pounding, as if someone had ripped away something I hadn't even realized I needed.

"You look lovely tonight," Soren said, his voice carrying easily over the noise.

I smiled faintly, though my chest still ached. "Then I must warn you, my king," I said softly. "Do not mistake a dress for gratitude. I would rather not be rude."

His lips curved, almost a smirk. He stepped forward, took my hand firmly in his, and held it in place before I could pull away.

"Walk with me."

The crowd parted as he led me forward. Whispers followed, sharp as knives. Every stare pressed against my skin as he guided me up the steps and motioned to the chair beside his throne.

"Sit."

I sat, keeping my chin high though my body trembled.

The crowd hushed when Soren rose. His voice was deep, commanding, impossible to ignore.

"Tonight, we honor tradition. Tonight, we celebrate strength... The Festival of Moons begins..."

The roar of an engine had cut him short.

A rider burst into the arena, cloak snapping like a banner and wheels spitting sparks.

The crowd erupted- cheers and screams mixed together as if they had anticipated it.

Some chanted in rhythm with the pounding drums, others threw their hands up, fists punching the sky as if a god had descended among them. Children scrambled onto their shoulders just to catch a glimpse. Women pressed forward, eyes shining, calling out as though the rider might hear only them. 

The energy shifted like a storm breaking loose and the wild hunger of a pack welcoming its champion.

It wasn't just excitement- it was worship.

My breath hitched, sharp and shallow, my heart pounding so hard it ached. I couldn't move or look away.

I froze.

The bike came to an abrupt stop, and the rider alighted with  ease. Tall, broad-shouldered, and his steps were slow but certain. 

Each movement was measured, confident, and pulling every eye in the courtyard.

He reached up, gripped his helmet, and pulled it free.

Black hair spilled loose, falling in waves around his face. His jaw was strong, dusted with scars. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his mouth full and set in a firm line.

Then his eyes met mine.

Deep brown, so dark they almost seemed black under the light but they were steady and burning.

Heat rose in my chest, spreading through every nerve as the pull was stronger now, so sharp it left me trembling.

He walked forward towards the throne... each step sounded like a heartbeat- my heartbeat.

When he stopped before me, his presence filled the space, drowning out the noise of the crowd. Slowly, he reached for my hand, and almost instinctively I had stretched it out without thinking, then his fingers closed around mine, warm and firm. 

He lifted it, bowing his head, and his lips brushed my skin.

The world stopped- up close, he was the most handsome man I had ever seen since I had been in Silvermaw and he was fucking breath-taking.

He raised his head, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Orin Ashvale," he said, his voice low but clear, every word meant for me. "I am here for you, my lady."