“You should’ve died with your parents.”

The words came from one of the guards riding beside the prison wagon.

Freya kept her eyes shut.

Not because she was weak.

Because if she looked at them right now, she might actually scream.

Rainwater dripped through the wooden roof above her, soaking the thin gray cloak thrown over her shoulders. Her wrists were still chained behind her back. Silver restraints.

Strong enough to burn.

Every bump in the road sent pain through her arms.

Neither guard cared.

“She’s quiet now,” the second one muttered.

“Probably realizing nobody’s coming for her.”

Laughter followed.

Freya bit the inside of her cheek hard enough to taste blood.

Nobody’s coming for her.

The worst part?

They were probably right.

Three days ago she had been Luna of Black River Pack.

Now she was locked inside a cage like an animal while the entire pack celebrated her downfall.

Her wolf stirred weakly inside her.

Hurting.

Mate bonds weren’t supposed to feel like this.

Even now, she could still feel Logan through the connection.

Distant. Cold.

It made everything worse.

Freya slowly opened her eyes and stared through the wagon bars at the dark forest passing outside.

“How much farther?”

One of the guards smirked. “Scared?”

“I asked a question.”

“Few hours.”

The other guard glanced back at her. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You won’t survive the night.”

Freya said nothing.

The wagon rolled over rough ground before suddenly slowing.

Voices drifted from outside.

“Open the gate!”

Metal chains rattled.

A checkpoint.

Freya frowned slightly.

Forbidden Mountain territory was isolated. Nobody came here willingly.

One of the guards climbed down from the wagon. “Stay put.”

“As if I have options,” Freya muttered.

The second guard snorted.

Outside, several wolves spoke in low voices.

Then—

“…heard the creatures tore apart an entire patrol last month…”

“…Alpha should’ve just killed her instead…”

“…nobody comes back from there…”

Freya’s stomach tightened.

She had heard stories about Forbidden Mountain since childhood.

Rogue Lycans.

Monsters.

Ancient beasts.

Mad wolves driven insane by bloodlust.

Most people believed the place was cursed.

And now Logan had sent her there without hesitation.

A sharp ache spread through her chest again.

Stop thinking about him.

But memories came anyway.

Logan pulling her into his lap during pack meetings because he “missed her.”

Logan kissing her knuckles absentmindedly while reading reports.

Logan saying:

You’re mine, Freya. Always.

Freya shut her eyes hard.

Liar.

The wagon suddenly jerked forward again.

One of the guards climbed back up. “Move.”

Hours passed slowly after that.

The rain stopped.

The trees became thicker.

Darker.

Even the air smelled strange here.

Freya noticed it immediately.

Not pack scent.

Not rogue scent either.

Something older.

Predatory.

By sunset, the horses had become restless.

The wagon rattled violently as one of them whined.

“Easy,” the driver snapped.

Another growl echoed somewhere deep in the forest.

Low.

Heavy.

The horses panicked instantly.

“What the hell was that?”

“No idea. Keep moving.”

Freya felt her wolf recoil inside her.

Danger.

Not even the guards were talking anymore.

The deeper they traveled, the quieter the forest became.

No birds.

No insects.

Nothing.

Then—

SNAP.

Something moved beside the wagon.

One guard stood immediately. “Who’s there?”

No answer.

Only trees.

The second guard cursed under his breath. “I don’t like this.”

Another movement.

Closer this time.

The horses screamed.

A massive dark shape flashed between the trees.

Freya’s breath caught.

“What the fuck—”

The wagon suddenly tipped violently sideways.

Everyone shouted.

Freya slammed against the wooden wall as the entire carriage crashed into the mud.

The horses shrieked in terror.

One of the guards shifted instantly into wolf form and lunged toward the trees.

A second later—

he screamed.

Not a normal scream.

A dying scream.

Wet.

Short.

Then silence.

Freya’s blood went cold.

The remaining guard stumbled backward. “Run! RUN—”

Something enormous exploded out of the darkness.

Freya only saw pieces of it.

Black fur.

Golden eyes.

Teeth.

The guard didn’t even finish shifting before the creature hit him.

Blood sprayed across the wagon.

Freya froze.

Her heartbeat pounded so loudly she could barely hear anything else.

The creature lifted its head slowly.

Huge.

Bigger than any wolf she had ever seen.

Not normal Alpha size.

Not even close.

Golden eyes locked onto hers through the broken wagon.

Freya stopped breathing.

The wolf stared at her silently.

Rainwater dripped from its dark fur.

Its chest rose once.

Twice.

Then it began walking toward her.

Slowly.

Freya tried to move backward instinctively, but the chains stopped her.

Her pulse spiraled.

This is it.

This is how she dies.

Not beside her mate.

Not as a Luna.

Alone. Broken. Forgotten.

The creature stopped inches from the wagon.

Close enough now that she could see scars across its muzzle.

Its eyes weren’t animal eyes.

Too intelligent.

Too aware.

Freya’s voice barely came out. “Please…”

The wolf tilted its head slightly.

Then suddenly—

it shifted.

Freya gasped.

Bones cracked violently.

Muscles twisted.

Dark fur disappeared beneath skin.

A man emerged from the shadows.

Tall.

Barefoot.

Half-covered in blood.

Freya stared at him in shock.

Black hair.

Sharp jaw.

Broad shoulders covered in scars.

But it was his eyes that terrified her most.

Gold.

The same gold as the wolf.

He looked down at the dead guards briefly before turning toward her again.

Freya’s throat went dry.

She knew immediately who this had to be.

Everyone in the northern territories knew the stories.

The monster prince.

The cursed Lycan.

Ryder.

He walked toward the broken wagon without hurry.

Freya pressed herself against the wood instinctively.

Ryder crouched in front of her.

Up close, his presence was overwhelming.

Not Alpha.

Something worse.

Something ancient.

His gaze moved slowly over her face before landing on the silver chains around her wrists.

“Pack exile?” he asked casually.

His voice was deep. Calm.

Like the bodies around them meant nothing.

Freya swallowed hard. “They sent me here.”

“Obviously.”

She flinched slightly at the sarcasm.

Ryder reached out suddenly.

Freya tensed—

but instead of touching her skin, he grabbed the chain between her wrists.

Snap.

The silver restraints shattered instantly.

Freya stared at him.

Silver was supposed to weaken wolves.

He broke it like glass.

Ryder noticed her expression.

A faint smile appeared.

Dangerous.

Amused.

“You’re looking at me like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Freya rubbed her burning wrists slowly. “You’re Ryder.”

“Good. Saves time.”

He stood again.

Freya quickly looked around at the forest.

Darkness had almost fully settled now.

“What happens now?”

Ryder glanced toward the mountain behind him.

Then back at her.

“That depends.”

“On what?”

His golden eyes held hers for a long moment.

“Whether they knew what you really are before they threw you in my territory.”

Freya stared at him.

“What does that mean?”

Ryder didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he bent down beside one of the dead guards and pulled a blade from the man’s belt like this happened every day.

Maybe for him, it did.

Freya watched him carefully while trying not to panic.

The stories had never described Ryder as human.

Monster.

Mad prince.

Savage Lycan.

That was what people called him.

But standing here now, covered in blood beneath the dark trees, he didn’t look insane.

He looked controlled.

Which was somehow worse.

“You’re not going to kill me?” she asked cautiously.

Ryder glanced at her over his shoulder. “Should I?”

Freya opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

His lips twitched slightly.

That tiny almost-smile caught her off guard.

“You’re afraid of me,” he said.

“You ripped someone apart ten minutes ago.”

“They attacked first.”

“That doesn’t make it less terrifying.”

Ryder stood and wiped the blade clean against the dead guard’s shirt. “You’re still alive.”

“Comforting.”

That earned her another look.

Longer this time.

Freya immediately regretted speaking.

Something about his eyes made her feel exposed.

Seen.

Not in the way Logan used to look at her.

Logan used to look at her like something soft.

Ryder looked at her like a problem he was trying to solve.

“You don’t act like a Luna,” he said suddenly.

The word hit harder than she expected.

Luna.

Not anymore.

Freya folded her arms tightly across herself. “I’m not one.”

“You were.”

“Not by choice.”

“Most women would beg to keep the title.”

A bitter laugh escaped her before she could stop it. “Most women probably weren’t publicly humiliated first.”

Silence.

Ryder studied her face carefully.

Freya looked away first.

The forest suddenly felt colder.

“Can you fight?” he asked.

“What?”

“Simple question.”

“No.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Before she could ask what he meant, Ryder suddenly grabbed the back of her cloak and pulled her sideways.

A dagger flew past her head.

Freya gasped.

Three wolves emerged from the trees moments later.

Rogues.

Their scents hit instantly—blood, dirt, and rot.

The tallest one grinned when he saw Ryder.

“Well,” he drawled. “Look what we found.”

The other rogue’s eyes landed on Freya immediately.

“Pretty little thing.”

Freya’s stomach twisted.

Ryder stepped slightly in front of her.

Small movement.

But she noticed it.

The rogues noticed too.

“That yours?” one asked mockingly.

Ryder’s expression didn’t change. “Leave.”

The rogues laughed.

“You don’t rule these woods, Prince.”

Prince.

So the rumors were true.

The tallest rogue sniffed the air suddenly before staring harder at Freya.

“…wait.”

His expression shifted.

Confused.

Then hungry.

“That scent…”

Freya stiffened immediately.

Ryder noticed.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Dangerous.

“What about it?” Ryder asked quietly.

The rogue’s grin widened slowly. “You don’t smell like a normal Omega.”

Freya’s pulse spiked.

Ryder’s gaze slid toward her.

Sharp.

Interested.

The rogue took a step forward. “Where’d you find her?”

Ryder didn’t answer.

The rogue smiled wider. “Maybe we should take a closer look.”

Big mistake.

The air exploded.

Freya barely saw Ryder move.

One second he stood beside her—

the next, the rogue was flying backward hard enough to crack a tree.

The other two shifted instantly.

Huge wolves lunged toward Ryder.

Freya stumbled backward in panic.

Everything happened too fast.

Growling.

Snapping teeth.

Mud spraying beneath claws.

Ryder moved differently than any werewolf she had ever seen.

No hesitation.

No wasted motion.

Pure violence.

One wolf tried to bite his throat.

Ryder caught its jaws with one hand.

One hand.

Freya stared in horror as he forced the wolf backward before slamming it into the ground hard enough to shake the earth.

The second wolf rushed him from behind.

Ryder turned and drove the blade directly into its neck.

Blood splattered across his face.

He didn’t even blink.

The last rogue scrambled up from the dirt, breathing heavily now.

Fear replaced arrogance instantly.

“You’re insane,” he spat.

Ryder tilted his head slightly. “You’re still here.”

The rogue ran.

Actually ran.

Freya blinked.

She had never seen rogues afraid before.

Ryder watched the trees for several seconds before finally lowering the blade.

Silence returned slowly.

Freya realized her hands were shaking.

Ryder looked back at her.

“You okay?”

The question startled her more than the fight.

“…I think so.”

“You think so?”

“I just watched you almost kill three people.”

“Two.”

“That’s not better.”

A pause.

Then unexpectedly—

Ryder laughed.

Not loudly.

But real.

Freya stared at him.

“You can laugh?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed?”

“A little.”

Another almost-smile.

Then his expression faded again.

“You shouldn’t stay out here.”

Freya looked around uneasily. “I don’t exactly have options.”

“You do now.”

“What does that mean?”

Ryder started walking deeper into the forest.

Freya frowned. “Wait.”

He didn’t stop.

“Seriously?” she called after him. “That’s your communication style?”

Still nothing.

Freya looked behind her at the broken wagon and dead rogues.

Then at the dark forest ahead.

Wonderful.

She hurried after him.

“You know, normal people usually explain things.”

Ryder’s voice came from ahead. “I’m not normal people.”

Fair point.

Branches snapped beneath Freya’s boots as she followed him through the trees.

The deeper they went, the stranger the forest became.

Massive claw marks scarred tree trunks.

Bones littered the ground in places.

Old warning symbols were carved into stone.

Freya swallowed nervously. “Do you live out here alone?”

“Yes.”

“That’s… concerning.”

“It’s peaceful.”

“For you maybe.”

Ryder glanced back briefly. “You talk a lot when nervous.”

Freya crossed her arms. “You murder people when annoyed. We all cope differently.”

Another tiny smile.

Goddess.

Why was that weirdly attractive?

Freya immediately hated herself for the thought.

Her mate bond with Logan still existed.

Broken and painful, but there.

And Ryder—

Ryder felt dangerous in every possible way.

Not just physically.

Emotionally too.

Like getting close to him would ruin a person permanently.

After another twenty minutes, the trees finally opened.

Freya stopped walking.

A massive black stone fortress stood against the mountainside ahead of them.

Not ruins.

An actual fortress.

Torchlights burned along towering walls.

Her eyes widened. “You live THERE?”

Ryder looked mildly confused by her shock. “Where else would I live?”

“I don’t know. A cave? Something horrifying?”

“That’s offensive.”

Freya looked at him flatly. “You literally live on Forbidden Mountain.”

“Fair.”

As they approached the gates, several armed Lycans appeared above the walls instantly.

Every single one froze when they saw Ryder.

Then their eyes shifted toward Freya.

Tension spread immediately.

One of the guards frowned. “Who’s that?”

Ryder kept walking.

“A guest.”

The guard looked alarmed. “A what?”

Freya suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

Especially when the guard muttered quietly:

“…the prince brought home a woman?”