SCENT OF THE FORSAKEN KING

The night I turned down the Alpha King, the moon bled.

And I don't mean that figuratively. The actual moon-a huge, swollen, blood-red orb-loomed over a gathering of ten thousand wolves there to witness my fate: to bond with the King or face death. In this world, they were essentially the same.

Kael Vane faced me from across the sacred circle, his bare chest exposed to the biting cold, silver runes inked across his shoulders. His amber eyes locked onto mine, filled with a ravenous desire.

I was expected to walk over to him, kneel, and offer my throat, submitting to the bond.

Instead, I declared, "I refuse."

A gasp rippled through the crowd. Kael remained motionless, but I sensed it-a crack in his calm façade, his shock palpable in the air like a fresh storm.

"Lyra," he said, and the way he spoke my name felt like both a warning and an intimate caress. "The bond has begun. You can feel it."

And I did. Deep in my bones. Aurora, my wolf, was pacing anxiously. But I remembered the smoke, the screams, and the sight of my mother's blood steaming in the snow.

"Your father ordered the Thornwood massacre," I replied. "I will not bind my wolf to the son of a murderer."

I had a dagger in my possession, stolen from the high priestess. I sliced my palm open, letting my blood drip onto the ancient stones as I recited the words of rejection.

The pain hit me like a cosmic force, a feeling akin to being flayed by starlight. I screamed, and I could hear Kael's roar of anguish breaking through the air like thunder.

When I woke up three days later, the look on the doctor's face told me everything I needed to know. "Your wolf is fading, Luna. Without the true mate bond... you have six months to live."

On the fifth day, the King's soldiers arrived-not to kill me, but to take me away.

Kael's proposition was simple: I would spend six months as his captive while he sought a cure. Six months in close quarters with his wolf, delaying the inevitable decline. Six months of submission.

I didn't have a choice but to agree.

Little did I know, the King had no intention of saving me without first breaking me down.

***

Three weeks earlier

The summons arrived on black parchment. I was busy stitching up a warrior's wound when Caius found me. "The King wants you."

Alpha Kings didn't ask for the minor healers of the Thornwood pack. We were too small to matter-or so I believed.

They brought me in a carriage, closed off and dark, with no windows and twelve guards to escort me.

Blackfang Citadel loomed over a churning lake, its obsidian towers clawing at the bruised sky. The air smelled of sulfur and ancient magic.

He waited on the steps.

Kael Vane was even more imposing than the stories described. He had black hair cropped for battle, a face shaped by violence, and even from twenty feet away, I could see the color of his eyes-amber, like a wolf's.

He wore no crown; he didn't need one.

"Your Majesty," I said, curtsying, not out of desire but because Aurora-my wolf-stirred to life, pressing against my ribcage, as if she longed to break free and run towards him.

*Mate*, she whispered.

No. That was impossible. I was just a healer from nowhere, and he was the King of All Territories.

But when I glanced up, Kael's gaze was filled with a ferocious hunger and something alarmingly close to relief.

"Come inside," he commanded. "Now."

***

He didn't speak until we were alone.

I had expected a grand throne room, but instead found myself in a cozy library. A fire crackled, and windows overlooked the turbulent lake, tinted by a blood-red sunset.

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked.

"No."

"Kael. When it's just us, call me Kael."

He stepped closer, and Aurora became frantic, scratching and howling inside me. His scent enveloped me-a mix of pine smoke, cold stone, and a dark sweetness that was intoxicating.

"Three nights ago," he said, "I woke with your name on my lips. I didn't know you, but I knew you were meant to be mine."

"I'm not bound," I whispered. "I've never-"

"I can tell," he interrupted, his hand reaching out, hovering dangerously close to my cheek. "Your innocence. Your... potential."

I flinched, and he halted, his hand trembling.

A King, trembling.

"You're afraid of me," he noted.

"I fear what you represent-power I can't comprehend, a bond I didn't choose."

"I'll ensure your pack is provided for, better than now. I've already sent supplies, medicine, and guards."

"You think you can buy me?"

"I've captured your interest," he replied, turning to glance out the window. "The bonding ceremony happens in three days. My advisors wanted a political match, but I turned that down."

"Because of the dream."

"Because the Moon revealed your face to me, and I knew that anything less would leave me hollow."

Romantic, yes. Brutal, too. But my mind raced with memories of my mother and the Thornwood massacre, of the destruction dressed in black armor.

"Your father ordered my pack's destruction," I said flatly.

Kael froze.

"I was just five when it happened," I continued. "I still remember the smell of smoke. Your soldiers wore your colors."

"They were harboring rogues. They were warned three times."

"But there were children in those homes."

"There are always children." His expression hardened, a mask of control. "I won't apologize for my father's choices. I am continuing his work-more carefully, more thoroughly."

"And if I refuse?"

"You can't." It was simple and unequivocal. "The bond has begun. You can feel it-your heartbeat is racing. We are swept along in this current. The only choice is whether we navigate the waters together or drown apart."

He crossed the room and caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"I'll give you everything," he promised, softly yet menacingly. "Power. Safety. Unimaginable pleasure. I'll burn down the world before I let anything happen to you. But I won't let you go."

His thumb brushed against my lip, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Three days," he reminded me. "Prepare yourself."

As he turned to leave, he paused.

"What if I don't want to be Luna?" I called out. "What if I don't want you?"

Silence hung in the air, then he answered: "Desire doesn't matter. We are fated; that is the only truth that holds weight."

With that, he closed the door, and I heard the lock click into place.

I wasn't a guest; I was a prisoner.

Aurora howled in triumph.

I pressed my hands against my ribs, knowing I had three days to find a way out or three days to come to terms with the fact that my life was now tied to a man whose father had slaughtered my family.

The Moon certainly had a cruel sense of humor.