The wedding hall radiated elegance. Chandeliers shone brightly over the rich green carpets covering the floors, their golden embroidery catching the light.

Tables adorned in fine linen and delicate China, stood poised, awaiting the royal feast.

Dressed in impeccable satin and the finest lace, the guests arriving exuded sophistication as they took their seats.

The Crown Princess' wedding was about to begin.

Far away from the grand and lively chatter in the hall, in an elegant, tastily furnished bedroom, Myra stood in front of a mirror.

Her maids moved around her, tightening her corset, adjusting her veil, making sure she looked perfect. Making sure she was perfect.

Despite their quick movements, she felt a tight knot form slowly in the pit of her stomach.

Why? Today was the day her fate would be sealed in the form of a marriage. A marriage she didn't want but had no voice to oppose.

“Stop frowning milady, you'll ruin your beauty" one of the maids said.

A cynical smile formed on Myra's lips. “This beauty can't be ruined. It has a big purpose today Anna"

Anna frowned and covered Myra's hand with hers. “You don't want this, don't you?"

“My needs and wants are insignificant Anna. What Vespera wants is more valuable."

Vespera needed this marriage, with or without her feelings.

“I am so sorry you have to sacrifice for us milady. A chance to meet your true love thrown to the ground" Anna murmured, stroking her hand.

Myra turned and clasped Anna's palm with a sad smile.

Anna had been her maid since birth and literally her mother since she lost hers also at birth.

Anna was her mother, mentor and a friend. She didn't want to imagine life without her. But knowing she would have to eventually, saddened her.

“This kingdom is my true love Anna. Besides, there's no chance of meeting a man I want. If I refuse to marry Prince Henry, my father will arrange another man immediately."

“What about the man you've been seeing in your dreams lately? Couldn't he be your true love?" Anna questioned thoughtfully.

Myra stilled and released Anna's hand. “T-That's just a meaningless fantasy"

A fantasy that tormented her dreams at night and her thoughts at day. A fantasy of an insanely handsome man that visited her mind and drove her heart wild with foreign emotions.

The dream was so real. A man stood by the edge of the forest. He drew closer, steeping out of the shadows.

His piercing gold eyes sought hers and held it. “My sweet love" his voice was a whispered caress that touched her heart and sent sparks flying. “Did you miss me?"

She parted her lips but no words came out. She wanted to run, but her feet were rooted to the spot. She wanted this dream to stop but her will power was not enough as the man advanced closer.

His hand shot out and held her chin. “My sweet love" he repeated softly, though his eyes said otherwise. His eyes were sharp and predatory, observing her like he would do to a prey.

He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. “You are mine to claim"

“Milady? Are you still here?" Anna snapped her fingers in front of her face, drawing her back to harsh reality.

Startled and embarrassed for daydreaming, Myra looked away from Anna. “I'm here. I was always here" and never there with that man, she completed in her mind.

“You're thinking of him again, aren't you?" Anna asked softly.

“No" she lied quickly “and even if I was, that's just my imagination. My reality is with Prince Henry"

Anna gazed at her with a knowing smile. “Fate works in mysterious ways. Never doubt that"

Myra dismissed her statement with a wave. She didn't believe in fate—or so she thought.

“You look beautiful Myra" Lady Rose complimented as she entered the room, ending any further conversation between them.

Myra shifted her gaze to her aunt. “You're just saying that to make me feel better"

“Not at all. You are truly beautiful"

“I hope so" she murmured, studying her reflection in the mirror.

The white silk dress with pearl embroideries fitted perfectly to her figure, flowing out at her waist. Her hair had been caught back from her face in glossy curls.

She knew she looked beautiful. She looked every bit of the queen she was going to be.

The thought alone was heavy on her stiff shoulders.

“Myra is everything okay?" Rose asked, noticing the tense expression on her niece's face.

Myra nodded, her voice impersonal to her feelings. “Everything's okay. Why wouldn't it be? I'm a happy bride"

A frown touched the older woman's features. “This marriage is for the good of this kingdom Myra"

For the good of this kingdom. It was for this same good she was getting married to a man she barely knew, a man she had no feelings for.

Her father had arranged this marriage to secure an ally; the neighbouring kingdom of Borthoris. They needed the protection of Borthoris in the current war against the Silvercrest Pack.

The most feared pack in the werewolves territories. Myra had caught on to the whispers that had been floating about this pack. And their Alpha.

“They say the Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack is a brutal man, a beast. Fear him"

“The Silvercrest Pack is one you shouldn't dare to mess with. Even in your sleep"

Myra brushed those thoughts off, though her stomach churned with dread. It was just a rumour, a false claim.

She had heard many rumours about the Alpha who was fearless and merciless. Though she had never met him, the rumours made her body shiver. Her father detested that pack greatly—she could see it in his eyes everytime he spoke of them— and had always warned her never to cross paths with them.

Little did she know she was going to find out why very soon.

“If it will help us in the war, I will marry Prince Henry. Nothing can stop me" Myra stated seriously.

Her aunt's frown dissolved into a smile and she sighed in relief.

“We're very lucky to have a princess like you—"

A knock on the door cut into her sentence, soon followed by slow footsteps.

“Evelyn" Myra smiled at the young woman who just stepped in.

Evelyn returned the smile affectionately as she moved her hands to say, “Today is your day sister. I'm so happy for you"

“Your encouragement means the world to me" Myra said and embraced her sister.

Evelyn was her twin sister but was born dumb and sickly. It was easy to tell from her very pale skin and weak eyes.

“I will miss you" Evelyn admitted with a sad expression.

Myra blinked away tears at the thought of moving to another kingdom, another life. Where she wouldn't see her dear ones.

But realizing it would have to happen someday, she held herself from crying.

For the good of Vespera, she reminded herself.

“Sorry to ruin the sisterly moment but time to get a move on. The groom could be there any moment" Rose informed them.

The carriage stood outside the castle, waiting for them.

As Myra stepped into it, she heard a faint howl from the forest beyond the castle, sending a sliver of fear through her.

She could feel something wrong in the air. Somewhere out there—someone was coming, she could feel it.

“Take a deep breath Myra. You look stiff" Rose advised with concern.

Actually, she looked like she had seen a ghost.

“I am stiff" Myra admitted, clutching her bouquet tightly.

’Don't worry. Everything's going to be fine' Evelyn assured her.

With faith in her sister's words, Myra smiled and closed her eyes, trying to relax. This was her big day.

Less than an hour from now, she would be married to Prince Henry of Borthoris.

But she felt no excitement. Only dread of the unknown.

She tried to brush it off as nervousness but it kept on ringing inside her, like a warning.

When they arrived at the chapel, the coachman announced, “Your Majesties, we have arrived"

“It is time" Rose clapped her hands excitedly and walked out with Evelyn.

“Milady" a guard peeked inside and stretched his hand out.

She exhaled deeply and with the help of the guard, stepped out of the carriage with practised grace.

Her father was waiting outside the hall.

“You're just as I want you to be" King Williams nodded approvingly at her while adjusting her tiara. “Make me proud"

“I will father" She slipped her hand under his crooked elbow and walked past the wide doors of the hall.

The walk to the altar felt endless to her though it was only a minute. She could feel the heavy stares of everyone as she walked down the aisle.

She dragged her gaze to the altar and saw her soon-to-be husband, Henry.

As she let go of her father's arm and stepped onto the pavilion, he acknowledged her presence with a mere nod.

“Brothers and sisters" the officiating priest called out. He was a huge man and his voice resonated loudly.

“We are gathered here to....."

Myra zoned out on the priest's words. At this point, she could barely hear him over the deafening roar of her rapid heartbeat.

With a death grip on her bouquet, she glanced at Evelyn who offered a smile of encouragement—which did little to fulfill its purpose—then at her father who sat rigid yet composed.

Regardless, she could see the tension behind his practised facade, evident in the restless drumming of his fingers on the armrest.

She frowned, sensing something amiss. She had grown up knowing how to read danger even in pure bliss. And this.....this was danger.

“.....Henry Wilson do you take Myra Winters to be your wife, promising to be with her for better or worse?"

“I do" Henry's voice was solemn but detached.

“Myra Winters do you take Henry Wilson to be your husband, promising to be with him for better or worse?"

Myra knew this was it. No turning back now.

“I d—"

A loud howl split her words like thunder.

Then the doors to the church snapped open and a flood of creatures trooped in.

Werewolves.

They were massive, twice the sizes of humans with wide eyes that glowed a dangerous light. A crest-shaped mark shone faintly on their furs.

The hall was thrown into chaos.

Guests screamed and panicked, pushing over one another to escape. They didn't get far.

Many of the wolves stood at the church's entrance, attacking anyone who dared to come close while the others dove in.

Glasses shattered. Tables and chairs were overturned.

Guards rushed to the scene but they were a weak match for the werewolves.

“Protect the princess!" King Williams shouted, rising to his feet with his sword drawn out.

Myra stood there, reeling from the shock with wide eyes.

She barely had time to process anything when a hand grabbed her arm. It was Cedric, the head of the royal guards.

“Follow me Your Highness" his voice was steady but urgent.

“No!" She shouted, pulling her arm off his grip. She glanced at her father who was defending himself against three wolves. “I can't leave him!"

“I've been ordered to protect you princess!" Cedric snapped. “Let's go!"

She fumbled for a reply as he pulled her toward a secret exit but it was blocked.

A werewolf lunged at them but Cedric met it with a clash of his sword.

It howled but didn't stop his advances on them.

Cedric deflected them all, swinging his sword in random but accurate directions.

“Run princess! I'll keep him busy" he shouted above the sounds of steel and panic-filled screams.

She took a step back, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. She had to—needed to— do something. But what?

A piercing scream drew her attention. She turned just in time to see a little boy being chased by a wolf. It was closing in on the boy.

She didn't think twice before rushing to the boy's aid, her movements slowed down by the heavy layers of her dress.

She grabbed a nearby shard of glass when she was close enough and clumsily threw it in the wolf's direction. It pierced the wolf's chest, blood spurted everywhere and the wolf fell down limply.

“I told you to go princess! Damn!" Cedric growled as he finished the wolf with a strike in its chest.

“The boy....he's little" She struggled to say but he had none of it.

“You need to leave princess. Please" he added, urging her. “I'll take care of the boy"

She glanced around her. There were no routes for escape.

The werewolves were everywhere.

The Silvercrest Pack is one you shouldn't dare to mess with. Even in your sleep

The room was in shambles, the air soaked in cries and the metallic scent of blood.

Her eyes frantically searched for any of her relatives.

She spotted her father at the centre of the hall, his sword moving seamlessly in the air as he fought off four wolves at once. But his movements were slow. Too slow.

“Father!" She cried out. She started towards him but Cedric pulled her back.

“I need to save him! Let me go!" She snapped, trying to break free from his grasp.

“You can't princess. It's too risky"

She heard none of that as she sighted another wolf aim for her father.

King Williams turned but he wasn't quick enough.

Myra's world stopped as the claws of the wolf sunk into her father's chest, sending him to his knees with a cry of pain.

Blood stained his robes and spilled onto the floor.

Time came to a halt as she watched the life seep out from his eyes, leaving them cold and hollow.

“FATHER! NO!" Her scream echoed through the hall, blending with the cries of others.

She dropped to her knees, her mind blank to the urgent pleas of Cedric.

My father's dead.

Her world spun, sending her into dizziness.

Cedric tried to pull her up but couldn't. She didn't move.

Her father was dead. Her kingdom was being attacked.

Her eyes blurred into tears then unconsciousness. The next she saw was darkness.

She saw him again. He stood in a corner, watching her.

But he wasn't smiling. His eyes had dimmed and narrowed, his mouth set in a thin line.

Gone was his flirty demeanour. In its wake was a sharp, icy aura.

“My sweet love" he said but his voice lacked its fondness.

There were blood on his clothes, hands.....face.

“This is just the beginning. More are yet to come"

Myra woke with a start. Confusion thickened her mind while she looked around, wondering where she was.

Her ears rang with the faint echoes of screams—real or imagined, she couldn't tell.

She wanted to believe she was still in her bedroom, getting ready for her wedding but the agonising wails and ruthless howls forced her to accept her reality.

What she saw was a nightmare. The once-white walls were painted red with fresh blood, the chandeliers hung at precarious angles, threatening to fall off any moment.

Dead bodies sprawled all around her, each one more terrifying than the next. Some she merely recognized, others she didn't.

Blood was everywhere, screams and cries echoed off the walls.

At the centre of it all, in the middle of the aisle, lay her father. He wasn't standing, wasn't barking orders to the guards as he always did. He wasn't even moving.

“No....." She whispered, crawling toward him.

Something inside her shattered as she looked down into his lifeless eyes. There was a deep hole in his chest, surrounded by thick patches of blood.

She gripped his hands tightly, as if she could keep him from slipping away. “No, no, please....."

Tears made her vision foggy.

This was one big joke. It had to be.

He had been alive and strong. Just some minutes ago, he had stood tall before her, adjusting the tiara on her head, telling her to make him proud.

Now, he lay lifeless in her arms.

“No, no, you're not dead" She cupped his face, desperate to feel any warmth, even the tiniest flicker of life. There was none.

The noise around her faded. All the screams, the howls, the madness didn't matter. Her world had ended.

Myra let out a cry and shook his body. “No father you can't leave me please"

But King Williams was gone, with no hope of ever coming back.

She cradled his head to her chest, tears sliding quietly down her cheeks. “No father please...."

In that moment, she wasn't a princess or a future queen. She was just a woman who had lost her pillar, her anchor.

She brushed a strand of hair from his face, glancing down at him.

In death, King Williams had never looked more peaceful.

“I should've been stronger. I should've protected you"

She bowed her neck, sobbing loudly. “No d-don't go father"

As seconds passed with no sign of life in him, her grief hardened, twisting into something uglier.

She would not let his death be in vain.

Myra pressed a kiss to his forehead and whispered, “I swear to you father, I will not rest until I make them suffer for this"

She would bring Silvercrest to its knees. She would make them regret the day they ever set foot in her kingdom.

The fire of revenge burned in her, helping her to let go of him.

Right then, she noticed something around his neck. A silver pendant half-buried beneath his collar.

She stared at it for a moment then pulled it off. ”I'll never forget you father. Rest in peace till I avenge your death" she said, slipping it into her pocket.

Then she stood up and turned, looking for Evelyn. Her sister was still out there and possibly in danger.

She walked gingerly over debris and dead bodies, anxious to find her sister while praying to the heavens she was okay. She couldn't afford to lose another person.

Her leg hit something and she nearly lost her balance, but she quickly steadied herself.

She looked down and her blood ran cold.

There on the floor was her aunt lying cold in the pool of her blood. Dead.

Myra's face drained of colour and she took a step back.

Aunt Rose. No, not her too.

“Aunt Rose?" Myra reached for her hand, unwilling to believe what her eyes already knew.

Her heart suffocated with agony, cutting her breaths to short, painful gasps.

Her father was dead, and now, her aunt too.

A storm of emotions crashed over her, but one stood out prominently. Guilt.

If she had been faster, stronger, braver.... Would they still be alive?

This was her fault. Her father. Her aunt. Everyone.

Myra dropped to her knees as she battled with the growing urge to collapse.

You couldn't save them, a voice whispered at the back of her mind.

What if Evelyn was dead too? The mere thought sent a finger of chilliness down her spine.

No. Evelyn wasn't dead. She couldn't be.

She held on tightly to the fragile hope of finding Evelyn....alive.

“Myra!" Her heart leaped at her name. Turning, she saw Henry sprinting towards her, his hair and clothes disheveled. “Thank God you're alive!"

“M-My f-father....a-aunt" She stuttered, then unable to hold it in any longer, she burst into tears and buried her face in his chest, each sob wracking her body.

Henry's arms closed around her, comforting her. “I'm sorry"

Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she prayed this was a dream. Possibly a nightmare.

When she pinched her arm and nothing changed, she realized it was true. They were dead.

Henry's voice cut into her fog of sorrow. “I hate to say this but we have to go Myra. Now"

She pulled away from him. “M-My sister is still out there. Let's find her"

“We can't" Henry refused sharply. “She might be dead for all we know. If we hesitate a bit longer here, we could be dead as well"

Myra blinked away tears, utterly stunned. Did she hear him right?

“She's not dead. And what about my people.....our people?"

Sounds of footsteps drowned Henry's response.

Men clad in dark blue and silver uniforms strolled towards them.

Werewolves. In human form.

Alarmed, she stood up to run but Henry grabbed her arm. “You can't go"

Confusion glittered in her eyes. “What? I don't understand—"

He pushed her to the men suddenly, cutting her off.

“Henry!" She screamed when one grabbed her arms. “Help me!"

His earlier expression of sorrow morphed into one she didn't believe she would see on his face. Guilt.

“I'm sorry. They promised to spare me if I gave them....you"

His words sliced her heart faster than a blade would. As he moved away, she stared at him, comprehension dawning on her like bitter rays. “You.....You betrayed me Henry"

Guilt tightened his features but he made no move to reach out to her. “I'm sorry"

This was the very man she had been willing to marry....and within minutes, had betrayed her to save himself.

His betrayal left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“This is so pathetic" one of the men sneered, glancing down at her with condescension. “It's a pity you belong to us now"

“I'd rather die than be your possession" she spat then bit the hand of the one holding her.

He winced and slapped her. “B**ch!"

Blood dropped from her lips but she could care less. The betrayal had dulled her senses to numbness.

She didn't mind dying right now. To put an end to her suffering.

“Kill me if you so please but I'll never follow you. Disgusting creatures"

“You might want to rethink your choice princess" one of the men stated indifferently. He had a scar running down his right cheek. He was their leader, judging from the aura around him.

He jerked his head and she followed his line of sight.

A man held Evelyn. Actually he was strangling her, holding her up in midair.

Evelyn tugged vainly at his claws, her pale eyes wide with fear.

Myra's heart flooded with so much relief it made her dizzy. Her sister was still alive!

“Let her go!" She screamed, pushing against the man that held her.

“I suggest you behave if you don't want her blood to spill on the ground" the leader growled.

At his words, she stayed still, trembling with silent fury and helplessness.

He fastened chains around her wrists and hauled her to her feet.

“Excellent choice" he stated with lack of empathy.

One of them shoved her toward the doors as another shouted, “Round them up then burn the place!"

She stumbled at his words. Burn? Her kingdom?

Unsympathetically, one wolf pushed her harshly, glaring at her to keep moving.

Survivors were bound in chains.

Myra couldn't bring herself to stare at their faces—their expressions would break her.

And she couldn't afford that. Not now.

Smoke from the ruins rose into the sky and darkened it, casting a black blanket that swallowed up the light.

“Move!" A warrior pushed a struggling woman forward. She fell to the ground, only to be dragged to her feet by another warrior.

Myra bit her tongue in an effort to hold herself back.

Calm down Myra, she told herself.

One wrong move and they wouldn't hesitate to snap her head off.

Ahead of her, Evelyn moved forward, her small form trembling.

Her heart pricked at the sight. She wanted to hold her but the chains held her back. She wanted to comfort her but she had been warned, else they would kill Evelyn.

And she'd rather die than let that happen.

Tears stung her eyes for the nth time but she refused to shed a drop in the presence of these wolves.

She moved her gaze from her sister and it locked with the leader.

She hurled all her hatred at him through her glare but he only smirked and rolled his eyes.

“Save your glares princess, you'll need it where we're going"

Myra gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes to slits. Her fists trembled with fury.

The wolves forced them to walk through the dense forest behind the castle, where she had heard the faint howl earlier.

She glanced back at the castle, barely visible through the smoke that clouded it. Above it, flames painted the sky red.

Her heart sank as she watched, helpless.

The moon crawled out slowly, shedding pale light on the grounds below. The shadows behind the trees snickered as she passed.

Maybe it was paranoia.....or maybe not.

Carriages waited for them at the borders, just outside the forest.

“Say bye-bye to Vespera" a wolf crowed mockingly, thrusting her in harshly.

“You'll regret this" she muttered under her breath, resisting the urge to claw his eyes out.

There were no windows in the carriage, only darkness that seemed to oppress her. The air was thick with the damp odour of leather and blood.

Myra drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her palms.

Her numb heart filled with rage when she replayed Henry's betrayal.

He was a coward, a fickle heart, who didn't bat an eyelid to save himself at her expense.

She would never forgive him. And she would never forget.

She clenched her teeth and vowed revenge. Revenge against Henry. Revenge against the wolves.

But most of all, revenge against the alpha, the architect of her misery.

“The Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack is a brutal man, a beast. Fear him"

In the stark darkness of the carriage, her shoulders trembled, her lips quivered and tears skimmed her cheeks silently.

This wasn't the end. It was just the beginning. And she would make him pay even if it killed her.

In the Silvercrest Pack.....

A servant hesitated outside a tall, polished brown door.

He gulped anxiously then knocked so softly, the sound barely audible.

“Come in" A smooth, deep voice answered.

He tugged at his collar and opened the door, revealing a dimly lit room.

A man sat behind the desk near the window, his attention focused on the papers before him.

The Alpha.

His sharp gold eyes lifted from the papers when the door creaked and landed coldly on the terrified servant.

“What is it?" He demanded flatly.

“I-It's a m-message from the h-head warrior Alpha" the servant stammered.

The Alpha's eyes narrowed. “Speak"

“Your captives are nearing the borders, my lord" the servant relayed the information, his head bowed so low it nearly touched the ground.

The Alpha's features relaxed into a smile closer to chilling than friendly.

“Nathaniel hardly disappoints me" he murmured then dismissed the servant with an order.

“Have the dungeons prepared. And inform the council—we'll have a meeting tonight"

The servant bowed quickly and bolted out the door.

The Alpha rose and walked to his window, his gaze fixed on the dark skies.

Night had fallen and everywhere was pitch black save for a few twinkling stars.

On the contrary, the Alpha was satisfied with his latest conquest.

His lips stretched into an emotionless smile. “Nobody messes with the Alpha of the Silvercrest Pack"

Pain.

That was what Myra felt when she awakened.

Pain in her arms, wrists, legs.....

She winced and tried to move her body but regretted the action dearly. More pain exploded in her arms, forcing her to grit her teeth.

Her head throbbed faintly as she regained consciousness, struggling to piece her memory together.

Then it hit her.

Her father was killed, her kingdom was burned and her fiance had betrayed her at the dying minute.

Presently, she was in a carriage moving to the pack of the perpetrator of her plight.

Now her eyes were adjusted to the darkness, she could see people asleep, awake, crying, all locked up in chains like she was.

It stabbed her heart swiftly like a needle to see their state but she refused to cry. Not anymore.

She had to think. Think of a plan.

In a matter of minutes, she would be in Silvercrest Pack. And she needed all her mind to confront the alpha.

Abruptly, the carriage came to a stop, silently announcing their arrival. Its wheels screeched to a halt, shoving her forward.

Myra knew the moment they entered. She could feel the power surrounding this pack from afar.

She clenched her jaw. They were here.

In the domain of the very monsters who had burned her home—and life—to the ground.

Her stomach twisted into rock-like knots at the notion.

The doors slammed open and clawed hands reached out to drag people outside.

The moment her feet touched the ground, Myra knew she had stepped into the lion's den. After a whole night spent in darkness, the sudden brilliance of light had her squint her eyes to see properly.

Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the brightness and she took in her surroundings.

Though the palace had a dark and heavy presence, its beauty was undeniable. Blooming gardens stretched across the grounds, and tall ivy-covered trees towered above.

The palace itself stood at the centre and was a dark, majestic structure that seemed to absorb light itself. Tall spires reached toward the sky and large, arched windows allowed glimpses of the inside.

But Myra wasn't awed by it. Even in all the glitz and glamour, this was the territory of her enemy. Awe couldn't enter the sentence.

She could feel the heavy stares of other wolves pressing on her like boulders. Yet, she held her head high, refusing to let them see her as anything less than a princess.

She squared her shoulders and—despite the chains that bound her wrists—walked like royalty.

Because I am royalty, she forcefully corrected herself, as if the thought alone could reverse her status.

She felt Evelyn's hand close over hers as they drew nearer to the palace, and spared a glance at her sister.

“I won't let anything happen to you. I promise" she whispered reassuringly.

Evelyn nodded with a weak smile.

But deep down, Myra felt the weight of that promise like a rock on her shoulders.

When they walked into the palace, her eyes discreetly scanned everywhere, burning the image into her head.

Its interior was even more luxurious. The great hall was vast, with high ceilings and elaborate designs. Beneath them, shiny marble floors stretched endlessly, while heavy crimson curtains cascaded down the walls.

The grand double doors of the throne room opened and they were ushered inside.

The air in here was different. It was much stronger and authoritative that it had the hairs on her neck stand on end.

The warriors forced them to their knees on the cold ground.

“Well well well, what do we have here?" A man drawled, lazily sitting on a high, golden throne.

Myra swung her gaze upwards and it fell on him.

The alpha. The man who had stolen everything from her.

He was nothing like she imagined. He sat upon the throne like he was born for it—relaxed yet exuding a composed dominance. His features were almost too perfect, too ethereal for a man so ruthless.

Sharp cheekbones framed a face that spoke of elegance and charm, his skin glowing bronze under the sunlight.

He didn't need to move or speak to command. Power oozed from him, wrapping around the room like a fog.

But his exquisite features and aura weren't what made her blood freeze like ice.

This must be one sick joke.

He....He was the man in her dreams. This was the man who invaded her sleeps every night and consumed her thoughts for the past few months.

But how? How was this possible? Was this all a dream?

If possible, her mind swayed with confusion, filled with more questions than answers.

“These are your captives Alpha Arthur" Nathaniel, the leader, bowed before the man.

His statement broke the brief spell that clouded her mind.

This couldn't be the man in her dreams. The man before her eyes was the monster who had taken away her kingdom and ruined her life.

He wasn't the man in her dreams. He was the man in her nightmares.

“I beg to differ" Myra spat out, attracting the gazes of everyone—human and wolf alike—in the room.

Arthur's eyes fell on her. She could feel the weight of his piercing gaze, as if it were a blow, but she stood her ground, refusing to cower.

“Quite audacious for a woman" Arthur commented with a click of his tongue. His voice was smooth but had a faint chilliness to it.

He rose from the throne slowly and advanced towards her with calm, calculated steps.

Myra's fingers trembled as his aura suffocated her with each step. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears but she masked it all with a defiant tilt of her chin.

“I am not just any woman. I am Crown Princess Myra of Vespera" she stated with a clear tone of authority.

“So this is Vespera's crown princess" Arthur remarked, halting just an inch away from her then crouched to her eye level.

His gaze swept over her, lingering for a moment longer than necessary on her disheveled appearance. “I expected more"

Myra's blood boiled. Even after everything—after her people had been taken, after she had been dragged here like a slave—this man had the audacity to look unimpressed? To act as if she was beneath him?

A humourless laugh escaped her lips. “And I expected a real Alpha, not some cold-blooded monster and coward"

Gasps resounded within the wolves in the room. A few of his warriors exchanged wary glances, uncertain if their Alpha would strike or laugh.

Arthur did neither. He simply titled his head with a smile—devoid of any emotion—and observed her. Scrutinized her. “You think I'm a monster?"

Myra leaned in, holding his gaze directly. “I don't think. I know"

Amusement swirled in his unusual golden orbs. “You have fire" he murmured, standing up to his full height that forced her to crane her neck. “But that quality led to your ruin. I can see why your people had blind loyalty to a weak throne"

Myra shot to her feet before the wolves could stop her, her chains clinking against the marble floors. “And you're just a coward who hides behind the facade of royalty. Your people are blind to your cowardice"

His smile faded, replaced with a dark look.

The air thickened with tension, holding an edge sharp enough to draw blood.

Myra knew she had struck a nerve. And she was damn glad she did.

“I would watch my mouth if I were you" his voice was a spine-chilling murmur that awakened goosebumps on her skin.

“But you are not me" she scoffed. “You are nothing but the Alpha who has killed and ruined lives. I hope you sleep well knowing that"

Arthur's jaw ticked as an emotion flickered in his eyes. “Yes. I sleep well knowing that, and soon enough, you will" his voice was low, and laced with warning.

The unknown underlying meaning in his words made her palms clammy with sweat.

He clicked his fingers, and just like that, guards came forward instantly, grabbing her arms.

“You can lash out at me all day if you want to, but the bitter truth is this—your kingdom was captured and you belong to me now. If you were truly a princess, you would have defended your kingdom and saved your people..... and your father"

Arthur watched as the stubbornness melted away, and pain crept in, her eyes wide and round. He had hit a soft spot and struck it well.

“I-I am not weak" she said, her voice wavering.

“Face the facts princess. You are weak and that's why you and your people are captives of Silvercrest. I hope you sleep well knowing that"

His bomb-like words nearly sent her to her knees. The impact weakened her fury, and left her heart sore with the painful truth.

She was weak.

He turned to the guards. “Take them to the dungeons" he ordered harshly, “bind her up specially, and let her know the price of her rudeness to me, the Alpha"

Just before she was taken out of the room, she gave him one last, controlled glare. This wasn't over yet.

As she was dragged down the hallway, whispers from her people slid into her ears.

“If she was truly strong, we wouldn't be in this situation."

“She couldn't save her father and now, she can't save us"

“She is weak. Just like her sister"

Her steps faltered. She couldn't believe her ears.

Their words hurt more than the chains around her wrists.

How could they say such things? She had practically confronted the alpha before their eyes. She stood up for them!

Tears burned her eyes. She wanted to shout at them. To tell them she had tried, that she was only human and had done her best. But she didn't.

Face the facts princess. You're weak

Myra gritted her teeth and turned her tears to blazing anger. She would prove him wrong. She would prove them all wrong.

The passage leading to the dungeons was narrow and dark, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the palace. The walls, cold and worn out, were covered with rough edges.

The dungeon was not better. Dampness clung to the stale air, carrying the stench of death and blood. With each step, the air became tighter, as if a door hadn't been open in a century or two.

The ceiling was low while heavy iron bars formed the doors to small cells, each one barely large enough for a person.

The guards loosened the chains and locked them behind the cells.

When one reached for Evelyn, she slapped his hand away. “Don't you dare touch her"

“Ooh. Feisty, aren't we?" Another mocked, snatching her wrist and dragging her to a separate cell. “Too bad that can't save you"

There were chains on the walls, rusty with age and darkened with what she suspected was dried blood.

Her stomach churned uneasily and she tried putting up a fight but the guard was easily stronger than her and binded her wrists and ankles.

“Enjoy your stay while it lasts" he crowed, shutting the iron bars behind him.

Fury seethed within her. They had reduced her—a princess of Vespera—to this? Like some common criminal?

She curled her hands and tugged at the chains but they didn't budge.

“Stop wasting your time. Those chains don't break" came the Alpha's voice as he appeared outside the iron bars.

Her spine stiffened as a guard unlocked the cell, and his heavy footsteps echoed against the cold stone floor.

“You think chaining me up will make you powerful?" She asked sharply. “It won't. Besides, a real Alpha wouldn't need chains to make a princess bow"

“And yet here you are. Caged" he pointed out smoothly.

His words irked her. “Cut straight to the point. Here for another round of threats? Or are you missing my taunts?"

Arthur's lips twitched, almost like he was amused. Almost.

“Neither. I came to check how my new.... guest isn't settling in"

Her dry laughter echoed sarcasm. “You call this hospitality?"

Arthur chuckled, low and deep. “Most people that dared defy me craved to be in your shoes"

“They can have it" she retorted.

“They're dead" he stated flatly.

A sliver of unease pricked her spine but she forced herself to stay calm. “Then kill me too. It would save us both time"

He chuckled again, as if she said something funny, then reached out, fingers gripping her chin—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind her she was at his mercy.

“Death would be too easy for someone like you. Breaking you bit by bit is much preferable"

“You wouldn't dare" she whispered, fighting the urge to look away.

His gaze burned into hers. “I never back down from a dare"

Silence stretched between them for a minute.

Thankfully, he released her, stepping back. “I heard you have a sister"

She shuddered at Evelyn's mention. “Leave her alone" she said, glancing away.

Just before her eyes left his, Arthur caught a look of vulnerability in her eyes. A look he noted and stored away.

“You care for her" he murmured.

“Mind your business. She's not your concern"

“Everything in my territory is my concern"

Her eyes narrowed to a glare. “Don't even think about laying a finger on her. Do you hear me?"

A smirk tugged at his lips. “You're forgetting one tiny detail here princess. You're a prisoner here. And prisoners do not give orders"

“Make fun while you can, but mark my words. You'll regret this" she spat out.

“It has been an eventful day. Let me leave you to rest, after all the journey has been tiring" he gave a mocking smile that infuriated her.

He stepped out of the cell then stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder. “Get used to this place. You'll be here for a while"

She watched him walk away from the filthy cell she was left in, anger simmering within her.

He may hold the chains but he would never break her.

You have fire.

He was playing with fire, but soon he'd realize that fire didn't just burn—it reduced everything to ashes.