Jules POV

The new identity was a cloak that shielded me, but even the deepest shadows couldn't obscure the past. My once-proud lineage, my blood, still hung over me like a storm cloud. I didn't know if I could outrun it forever, but I had to try.

In my new home, hidden deep in a community of outcasts, I could breathe. For the first time in years, I was free from the life I was forced into. I wasn't a pawn for the kingdom, a sacrifice for a lie. I was just a boy, nothing more.

I cut my hair short and wore boy's clothing. It helped to bury the memories, to bury the princess I had been. No one knew who I truly was here. I had become just another face in a hidden world, one I had crafted for myself.

But it didn't last.

News spread that the girl they thought was dead-Princess Julian-wasn't dead at all, her body was missing.The bounty hunters had started searching, scouring villages and towns for any trace of her. Her body wasn't found.

And now, they wanted me back.

With the bounty over my head, I could not stop moving and had to stay on the move. It was only a matter of time before someone figured out the puzzle of who I was.

*******

I ran.

Though the shouts behind me had faded, i did not stop. I couldn't. The bounty on my head had turned the world upside down. Every shadow felt like a trap, revealing another hunter eager to claim my life.

My body protested. Exhaustion dragged at my limbs, but fear moved me forward. I had escaped-escaped the city, the rogues, the guards taking aim to kill me like a rabid dog. And yet here, deep in the wild, I began to hope that I was finally out.

The trees soared endlessly in all directions, their intertwining branches creating a canopy so thick that only the faintest hints of moonlight graced the hard-packed ground of the forest. It was a dark place, the kind of land best described in hushed voices. Nobody came here. Nobody wanted to.

But I had no choice.

I pushed on, my breaths labored.

Then I heard it.

The deep, far-off call of a horn.

Slow and eerie, sending a chill through my spine.

I stood still, my chest heaving. The wind changed, bringing with it a different scent, that of smoke and of steel.

I was not alone.

There was something moving beyond the trees. The air was thick with tension and the forest was eerily quiet.

My heart pounded.

Was it a war party? Bandits?

Before I could decide, a shadow moved between the trees.

A man.

No-men.

Figures emerged from the darkness, their armor blackened like wolves in the night. They moved in calculated silence, their eyes scanning the trees with the sharpness of hunters.

My blood ran cold.

I had unknowingly stumbled into their path.

I turned-

Too late.

A hand clamped onto my arm.

I gasped, instinct taking over as I drove my elbow into my attacker's ribs. He grunted, but his grip didn't loosen. Another figure appeared behind me.

I twisted, fighting like hell.

I managed to rip free, lunging for the dagger strapped to my thigh-

Only to feel a cold blade press against my throat.

"Enough."

The word was spoken with such quiet authority that the forest itself seemed to still.

My breath hitched.

The man standing before me was unlike the others. Taller. Broader. His presence alone sent fear crawling up my spine. His tunic was dark, fitted to his powerful frame, the fabric embroidered with gold that flickered like flames in the dim light.

But it was his face that stole the air from my lungs.

He was beautiful in a way that was utterly inhuman.

Strong, sculpted features-sharp cheekbones, a chiseled jaw lined with the shadow of stubble, and a mouth that curved with cruel amusement. His skin was lightly bronzed, a stark contrast to the ruthless gleam in his golden eyes.

Those eyes-piercing, luminous, predatory.

I felt something cold slither down my spine.

He didn't just look dangerous. He was danger itself.

He studied me in silence, as if deciding what to do with an unexpected kill.

I swallowed hard.

Then, from the trees behind them, another warrior approached, holding up something small-my dagger.

"My lord," the man said. "He was armed."

The golden-eyed man didn't react. He simply reached out and took the blade. Turned it between his fingers. Testing the weight, the balance.

Then, he flicked his gaze back to me.

"Why are you here?" His voice was deep, calm-dangerous.

My pulse roared in my ears. "I-I was..... I didn't know anyone was here."

A slow, sharp smile curved his lips. "You expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth," i hissed.

Silence.

Then-

A sharp snarl from one of the men. "He carries an enemy crest."

My stomach dropped.

My eyes flicked to what the soldier held-a torn emblem from a rival kingdom.

No.

I didn't even remember grabbing it-I must have taken it while looting for supplies, not thinking, not realizing it would be a death sentence.

The golden-eyed man studied it, then looked back at me, expression unreadable.

"An assassin," one of the warriors spat.

My heart slammed against her ribs. "No-"

A blade was unsheathed. A warrior stepped forward.

"Shall we kill him now, Your Majesty?"

My breath caught.

"Your Majesty?"

My mind reeled. The title alone sent a chill down my spine, but it wasn't until I saw the emblem on his chest-stitched in black and gold, the mark of a wolf with a blood-red crown-the truth crashed over me like a tidal wave.

I knew that sigil.

Every pack did.

It belonged to the most feared ruler in the land. King Lucian the Alpha of the Ironhowl Pack.

This wasn't just a noble.

This wasn't just a warlord.

This was him.

The warlord-king whose enemies vanished without a trace.

The monster whose hands were forever stained with blood.

The predator who never let a trespasser live.

And me-a stranger with a dagger and an enemy's crest-had just walked straight into his grasp.

He tilted his head slightly, golden eyes assessing me.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then-

A low, dark chuckle.

"No," he murmured. "I think I'll hunt him first."

I barely had time to breathe before his grip released.

"Run."

My body went rigid.

The warriors around them shifted, smirking. Amused.

I wasn't sure I had heard him correctly.

"What?" I breathed.

The king stepped closer.

"If you make it out of my forest," he said, voice silk and steel, "you're free."

His gaze flickered, sharp with amusement.

"But if I catch you..."

My throat went dry.

A slow smile. "I will make you beg for death."

Terror surged through me.

He was serious.

Everything he had said was real.

Something churned in my chest-fear and anger.

My heart almost beat out of my chest and my breath came out in gasps as I ran down the earth beneath my feet. I couldn't look back. With each painful step forward, I thought about how my heart was all that was left to keep me going and every single breath was a battle of survival.

The forest around me seemed to surround me like suffocating, monstrous trees with trunk-like limbs. It seemed like the sound of my pursuit was gaining ground.

I had no idea how long I had run for. Long enough where I lost track of time. Long enough where my legs felt as if they were going to collapse around me. But there was no stopping. No thinking. Only survive.

"Run."

The command from the King had burned into my mind as if someone had branded it in my brain. I was running because he had commanded me to.

The air got colder and the trees got thicker. I could feel him coming. I could almost taste him.

And then I stumbled. That step seemed like it lasted forever. I caught myself just before I made it to the ground and screamed out in pain as I rolled her ankle. But I didn't slow down.

"Don't stop."

I pushed onward, the sound of the leaves crunching behind me. The sound of heavy boots-his boots-pressing everywhere I went. That sound, and the sudden and dark laughter of the man, the man who had turned life into some twisted hunting game.

I could not afford to give him any satisfaction.

My thoughts were jumbled-fear, anger, determination, disbelief. One minute I felt free, and the next I slipped into the snare of the worst kind of man, the man who feasted on the blood of his victims.

When I saw the moonlight filtering through the trees ahead of me, the clearing just beyond where I had just run to, I let out the breath I hadn't realized I had been holding. Freedom.

I pushed harder, faster, pain penetrating the aching middle of my body, even down to my legs.

It was so close.

But, once again, the ground is shifting below me.

A tripwire.

And before I could react at all, the rope caught me off my legs and yanked my body upward at a sickening pace.

My body swung clumsily, trapped, hanging in place.

No.

I wiggled and kicked my legs against the ropes as the panic shot through my veins. If I was caught now-I couldn't be!

I froze, as the footsteps grew closer. I looked up. My breath caught my throat.

The king.

He stepped out of the shadows like a ghost, looming behind me, his cape billowing as he moved, his messy shining hair falling across his forehead, his hazel eyes fixed on me with that familiar tremulous power, the hint of yellow light giving them a predatory shine. He didn't try to help me, he just stood there, staring like a predator admiring its prey.

"You didn't think you could get away from me, did you?" His low voice managed to sound almost disappointed.

Jules POV

I hung helplessly, my body shaking in fear as he loomed over me, his cruel expression and amused gaze making me beg in a barely audible whisper.

He narrowed his eyes a bit, watching me hang there, defeated and exposed. Then without saying anything, he took a step forward. It was his moment. Like a storm, a calamity waiting to happen. I was pathetic, too easy for him, now the monster in front of me loomed directly above me, his face obscured by the darkness of his cape.

I felt my heart race, but couldn't bear to move. My body shook as he lifted his forearm. Without a thought, he took my wrist and sliced open the rope with his dagger with one gesture.

I slammed back to the ground as my knees gave out below me. Before I could get my bearings, his hand clamped down on my arm and he pulled me up to standing with a strength I couldn't comprehend.

I gasped and panicked with my fast breath, knowing i could not get away. I was trapped.

The king looked at me as unattached as chimps might look at a dog that was just hurt. He smirked with a twisted mouth all of a sudden.

I opened my mouth to say something, to plead, but the words didn't come. I had no more strength to lie, to fight him. The coldness of his face relieved me of my purpose and made me feel small and weakened, and all I could do was shake my head and tremble my lips.

"Please...." I finally managed to hiss out. "Please, don't hurt me. I'm not who you think I am."

The king's golden eyes glimmered with dark amusement. "Oh, I think you are precisely who I think you are. The question is, though-how much will you beg before I set you free?"

"Please... I am not an assassin. I-I am only trying to find a place to hide. I... I am not your enemy." My voice broke as I spoke, clearly demonstrating the weight of my desperation.

The king's smile deepened, the cruel glimmer in his eyes fully awakening. "If you were not my enemy, you wouldn't be here. But now...," he leaned closer, his voice dropped to a deadly whisper. "I will decide what you will do."

I simply stared at the ground, my heart racing and my body shaking with fear. In that moment, my pride and defiance evaporated.

"Tell me," he said softly, "do you want to die in a quick way? Or shall I make it more fun?"

My mind raced, it was not working properly. I wanted to scream, beg, do anything to make this stop. But the words wouldn't come. They were stuck in my throat - frozen by fear.

Finally, i forced her voice out, dry and shaking. "Please... don't..." It tasted like ash in my mouth. My pride had disappeared. My rebellion had disappeared. They had been replaced by fear and an instinct to survive. I didn't want to die. Not here, not now.

The king's lips twisted into a dark smile. The look in his face was one of cruel amusement. His dark gaze flickered down to me as he studied me with calculating eyes. Then, without warning, his sword moved closer to me. The cold blade pressed against her neck and I could feel my heart quicken with panic. I felt the slight pressure against me, and knew in an instant it would be over. The air was heavy, oppressive with uncertainty.

Then, the atmosphere shifted.

For a heartbeat, he flinched. He lowered the sword ever so slightly, though it hardly changed position. He looked at me, and his gaze held depth, intent, and somehow... something else.

I couldn't comprehend it, but for the briefest of seconds, i could feel it, an indication of sorts. As if - and i couldn't explain why - there was an electric charge passing from one to the other, though it was extremely faint. It wasn't a zap, not even an itch, just a hint. I felt, almost tellingly, as though something passed through my veins.

He was immobilized, and for a heart-stopping heartbeat, I felt like I saw something flicker behind those cold eyes filled with mal intent.

Could it be - hesitation?

My heart jumped, and panic gripped me. Had he found something? Had he changed his mind? My skin began to tingle and... I have never felt someone watching melike this.

But then... it hit me.

As if struck by sudden lightning, the feeling in the air shifted again, but with a sudden, violent intensity. There was a tug, a deep pull in my chest that i could not explain. Not physical-not really-but there was no mistaking it. I knew.

My breath went dry in my throat with my revelation.

He knows.

His eyes widened so fast, a flash of something played out on his perfect face. And it was gone; replaced by something darker, more predatory. But i felt it. That unrelenting force, like a magnet pulling us together.

It made my stomach churn.

I wasn't ready for this. Not like this. Not when my life was hanging by a thread.

"Mate."

The word flashed in my mind. It was nonsensical. I could barely get a breath as the feeling rushed through me, like a dam breaking from deep inside me.

But then, the king's reaction changed. His face went sour, his mouth twisted in a hard, almost disgustful sneer. His eyes narrowed, and an immediate tension went through him, almost a shiver.

"No," he growled, almost spitting it, like a terrible growl from some great dinosaur. "No. This can't be..."

I felt my chest tighten painfully, and breath was getting much harder as the draw between us stretched tighter.

But just like that, it left. His eyes darkened with chill rejection, and he backed away, an expression of disbelief on his face. He re-gripped his sword in his hand, almost squeezing the hilt in his hand, face contorted as he seemed to fight off something deep inside.

I lay there confused and gasped for air, the gravity of the moment weighing down on me like crushing underwater pressure. I wasn't sure at all what had just happened to me. I knew only one thing for certain:

"This man - this king - was my mate"

He stood with his hands balling into fists at his side rigid as stone, taking a rude step away. Lucian's eyes, still cold and now even more contemptuous, with hatred told me everything i needed to know about his feelings. But i knew the fight he was having with himself. I could see him struggle, fight, even. His body had reacted to me still.

"I will not accept this," he muttered, his voice cold and rough, practically spitting the last syllable as if having to scoop the very words from his mouth. "I'm not"

My heart raced still, but not just from fear. Something deeper had shifted in me, something instinctual and primal. I had no idea how to contain it, but i could feel it.

He was my mate.

And he just rejected me.

King Lucian turned his back on me and walked away, the ground shaking momentarily with the weight of his feet thumping against the ground. The tension was heavy, rapidly filling the air around me like a tornado sucking up everything that mattered to me.

His footsteps faded, departing from the scene, leaving the air in palpable tension. The thoughts ran wild inside him, a strange chaos of emotion that i could feel myself, almost like an echo of my own thoughts. I couldn't fathom what was happening; never have i experienced anything like this before. It felt as if he was speaking to me, but he was not using his voice. No. This... this was something other.

His voice intruded in my thoughts, brusque and wrapped in disgust, and underlying it all, tension. "This cannot be real. He cannot be my mate..."

My heart seemed to pause as panic flooded in with colours of disbelief, uncertainty, and terror.

"What the hell is happening?"

I could hear him. I could hear his voice in my mind

"No, this is impossible, he continued, his thoughts twisting with denial. I cannot be Mated to a boy, the Moon Goddess couldn't have cursed me with this. No, I won't accept it."

My throat constricted as i felt the weight of his rejection. His mind was clear and sharp, a fortress of power and control. And yet, the pain, the repulsion i could sense in him, made my heart clench painfully in my chest.

But before he could finish, the connection snapped, as if the invisible thread that had briefly linked our minds had been severed with brutal force. The silence was deafening. I was left gasping for air, my chest tight, my whole body trembling with the overwhelming sensations.

His rejection felt like a physical blow to me, and yet i still couldn't bring myself to stand. The emotions swirling inside me were alien, confusing. I didn't understand why this bond-this thing between us felt so vital, so real. But he didn't want me.

Not because i wasn't enough, but because i was something he could never accept.

His voice was cold, indifferent, as he addressed his men. "Enough. Let's head back to the palace."

The men, still alert, nodded in recognition, but there was hesitation from one of them, as he looked down at me, still on the ground, in a pile of dirt and blood. The question lay dangerously, "What shall we do with him, Your Majesty?"

The king's back stiffened. He didn't turn to look at me, but his voice rang finality, cutting through the air like a sword slicing things in two. "Bring him."

The word strangled for only a moment, confusing me, "What did he say?"

The King rarely had command questions. The guards exchanged glances, none daring to speak against him. One of them moved forward, grabbing me by the arms tightly, lifting me at will. The iron shackles of bonds held me captive to his joints.

I felt myself pulled to my feet, taking each step painfully.

I was dragged along, my legs barely carrying me and my head spinning. "What did he want from me now?"

And the king was ahead, still with his back to me his voice carrying in the cold air.

"He's a potential threat but I'll keep him where I can see him. If he's an assassin... then I want to see what he can really do."

"But we both knew that was a lie."

Jules's POV

The camp was alive with movement. The shouts of soldiers, the smell of horses. I sat on the ground, bound to a post with leather straps, my wrists sore. I was still shaken from what he'd done earlier. I could still feel the warmth of his fingers, the coldness in my chest from how he looked at me, it had made my heart race. At that moment, the captain approached, bearing a paper sealed in black wax. The king Lucian didn't take it right away. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the captain's face, sensing something important.

"What's this?" he asked, voice low but sharp.

The captain handed him the paper, and I watched closely. Lucian broke the seal and carefully opened it, reading the contents inside. As he read, his eyes flickered over the page, moving faster now, and his jaw clenched.

The tension in the air thickened, like the camp was holding its breath.

"This is not good," the king murmured, crumpling the letter in his hand. "We're not going back. Not yet."

I tensed up, panic creeping up my spine. If we were not going back to his pack, where were we going? His presence was needed elsewhere, and I felt a bubble of dread in my chest.

Does this mean that he would let me go?

"Get ready," the king ordered his men. "We ride to Ravenstone pack. Immediately."

I didn't understand why they were going to Ravenstone. But the king's command was final. He mounted his horse with cold authority, not sparing another glance at me. His men moved quickly to prepare. I was shoved onto a horse and forced to ride along, the ropes still binding me tight.

By the time we reached Ravenstone, the sun had already set. The gates opened as if they had been expecting us. The Alpha of Ravenstone stood waiting with his guards, all dressed in polished armor. Their faces were blank, yet welcoming.

"We've been expecting your arrival, King Lucian," the Alpha Gunner with a polite bow.

King Lucian didn't respond immediately. He just gave a curt nod,

The Alpha's face was as serious as his tone. His eyes didn't soften when he spoke, and his posture was rigid, like someone who couldn't afford to waste time. It was clear that whatever business they had here, it couldn't wait.

"We will discuss matters later," the Alpha Gunner said. "But for now, rest from your journey. There will be a change of clothes waiting for you. It's a long evening ahead."

The guards gave a quick nod of recognition and gestured for me to follow. Unsure of the situation, I paused for a moment, knowing how serious this was. But I followed behind them. The guards led me through the pack mansion with huge, thick stone walls and tall spires. It wasn't just a building, it was a place of power. Gunner is a powerful Alpha and this invitation is not only for business, it is a respect for him. Everybody knows it.

We walked through tight spaces, dark and narrow hallways until we arrived at a set of rooms that felt cold and unwelcoming. The guards stood at attention by the door. The head of the guards handed me a set of fresh clothes.

"You can rest now," he explained. "Dinner will be done soon."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked out the door. I stood there for what felt like a minute, focused on the door as it clicked shut behind me.

The room was small, basic, and felt uninviting. I could feel some sort of suffocating silence and thick air, as if I didn't belong there. I was less than just a person, I was included as part of the process for them to use when they saw fit.

With one last, heavy sigh, I slid into the clothing they had given me, feeling like I was falling into an inescapable part. The door creaked open and a guard entered with a food tray.

He gave me a quick glance and placed the tray on the flimsy table at the side of the bed, barely wobbling it. With the smell of stew and bread, I started to get hungry but at the same time felt it was strange and wrong to eat with everything that is weighing me down.

"You eat," the guard looked at me saying almost gently in a low tone, standing near the creaking door. "You've got a long night ahead."

I nodded my head, not sure how to respond. He was not your normal guard, the one that just threw meals through the door and left me to me. This one lingered, and would glance at me while standing there.

I lifted the spoon and took a small bite, forcing its passage past the lump in my throat. He was waiting, and I had no intention of talking to him. But his gaze was heavy and too penetrating.

"So," he said after a moment, stepping further into the room, "how are you doing?"

I glanced up at him. His face was serious, not unfriendly. Something about him unsettled me.

"I don't know. It's hard to get used to... well, being stuck here," I said, lowering my spoon.

The guard raised an eyebrow. "Stuck? You're not stuck. You are here because the King wants you here. You are safe."

"Safe?" I balked, frustration boiling over. "I feel anything but safe. I don't belong here."

He hesitated, looking carefully at me, then offered a slight nod, as if still considering the matter. "You aren't the first to feel that way. This place, this life... it changes you."

"Changes me?" I repeated, unable to suppress my anger. "I didn't ask for any of this. I don't belong to anyone."

The guard narrowed his eyes and changed his stance like he was considering his next line of dialogue. "No one chooses this life. Do you think I wanted to end up here?" His risky tone dropped an octave, as if trapped in a moment of vulnerability. "No one ends up here on purpose."

This moment hit me harder than I would have liked. He sounded like a man who was trapped, just like I was. He wasn't a monster; he was just a pawn like me in this sinister game.

But then I remembered, I didn't want to be a pawn anymore.

I put the spoon down with shaking hands and looked up at him. "Please," I said quietly. "I never chose any of this. I didn't know they were hunting that day. I'm not going to hurt anyone. I can't hurt anyone. I'm not a killer being sent to kill the king. You have to believe me."

The guard's expression softened for a quick second. "I'm not the one you need to convince," he muttered, looking down as his strange comment lingered in the air.

"Then who do I have to convince?" I asked, my voice almost a shriek. I pushed myself off the bed, ready to throw the whole room around. "Please, you have to help me. I don't belong here, I don't belong with this life. I'm not your enemy; I swear. I just want to leave."

His eyes shifted; they darted over my shoulder, and for a short moment, I actually thought he was going to say something but he didn't. He sighed and dragged his fingers through his dirty, blond hair. "You don't understand, it's not that simple."

"Please!" I nearly begged at this point. "I don't know how I got here. I don't know why they brought me...I literally don't know anything except that I want out."

He shook his head, his face looking gaunt with regret. "I can't help you, Jules," he said, leaning in like he had planned to let me in on a secret. "I can't risk it. I'm in debt to the king....it's my life he placed on the line. If I help you, it's basically still me digging my grave."

I stood in silence for a moment, my heart dropping. His words weighed me down like a boulder. "So, you are just going to leave me here?" I asked, small.

No response, and his silence spoke volumes.

"I guess I'll have to do that on my own?" I said quietly, more to myself than to him. The hopelessness in my voice struck the air hard between us.

The guard's eyes hovered over me for a split second, full of pity. "I'm sorry," he finally said quietly, turning and leaving through the door.

At that moment, the door swung open, and I turned to see King Lucian standing in the doorway. His eyes were frosty and methodical, and I felt the room compress as he looked around.

"You will do what, exactly on your own?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous, and filled with subtle menace.

My heart sped fast, panic clenching around my throat tightening; I could not breathe, I could not speak. The king had heard us.

I gulped hard, trying to steady myself. "Simply thinking aloud. I-I didn't mean anything by it," I tripped out, while hating the way my voice sounded so weak.

Lucian looked back and forth from me to the guard standing gripped in the door frame like a deer caught in a car's headlight. Lucian sucked in the corner of his mouth like he was mulling something, then narrowed his eyes at me. "Is that so?"

The atmosphere had gotten thicker, and I felt like the weight of Lucian's stare was heavy upon me. This was going to be tricky, I realized I had to play this carefully or else I would end up paying the price for my desperation.

I took a slow intentional breath, hoping my heart wasn't racing loudly enough for him to hear it. "Yes sir," I murmured, slightly trembling.

Lucian said nothing at first. His eyes roamed over me cold, assessing, like he was searching for the smallest flicker of rebellion. After a long, suffocating pause, he gave a single nod, sharp and final.

"Good. Then keep your thoughts to yourself, Jules."

He took a step closer, so close I could feel the heat of him. His voice dropped, calm but commanding.

"You will attend the celebration party tonight. With me." He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. "Not as a guest. As what you are my slave."

The words hit like a slap, blunt and cruel. My stomach tightened. My pride flinched.

"You'll stand beside me, silent. Nothing more. Nothing less."

He looked down at me and then back up again, with mild disgust as if he'd just seen something offensive.

"And shower again, " he said flatly. "I don't like the way you smell."

He leaned in, his nose virtually touching my cheek. "Familiar," he practically spat. "Just like something I was supposed to leave in the gutter."

I was frozen in place and fists clenched at my sides.

How did I end up here, called an assassin one day, dragged into a collar the next? And why, after all his accusations, did he want me anywhere near him?

He gave a final, dismissive glance. "Don't make me repeat myself."