“Very well,” Selene Frostveil announced lazily. “The wager begins.”

She tilted her head, smiling as if granting mercy.

“Kael Nightthorne, don’t say I left you no way out. We’ll play the one game you claim to know best—a Dominance Draw.”

Did I have a choice?

Every path before me had already been sealed by Selene Frostveil.

Silver-threaded restraints pinned me to the stone table. Only one hand was released—just enough for me to flip the bone-cards when ordered.

Selene lifted her goblet and addressed the sea-den with a languid wave of her fingers.

“Everyone here—when he loses, you’re free to enjoy that old she-wolf however you please. I’ll even distribute blood-coin and moonwine afterward.”

A thunderous roar of approval erupted.

The rogues’ eyes burned with feral hunger as they stared at my foster-dam, licking their lips like starving beasts.

Darian Frostveil sat beside the so-called Tidefang King, watching me with open provocation. The scar across his face glistened in the firelight—the mark I had carved into him years ago.

“Kael Nightthorne,” Darian sneered, “rules are simple. Every time you lose a round, we strip one piece of clothing from your foster-dam.”

He leaned closer, voice dripping with cruelty.

“Unless you want to beg?”

“Can we begin?” I interrupted coldly.

Ignoring him was the only way not to give him what he wanted.

Darian wasn’t here just to win. He wanted to break me, inch by inch—until fear replaced reason.

The dealer stepped forward and cast the first bones. Around us, every wolf placed their wagers—all on Darian and the Tidefang King.

Selene swirled her blood-wine, her scent thick with confidence.

When the bones were dealt, I lifted my freed hand and turned over my visible card—the Red Moon Seven.

Across from me, the Tidefang King revealed a Black Claw King, his expression filled with disdain.

“Careful, Kael Nightthorne,” he said mockingly.

The crowd laughed and applauded.

“My hand is higher,” Darian declared casually. “I wager your foster-dam’s second garment.”

I had no choice but to call.

But Selene raised her hand.

“Wait.”

For a brief, foolish second, I thought she had reconsidered.

Instead, she smiled wider.

“You don’t actually have chips left to wager, do you? I control your territory now—but not the tribute vaults you hoarded over the years.”

Her gaze sharpened.

“So if you want to continue, you’ll need to stake those reserves. Otherwise…”

She shrugged lightly. “We’ll just start tearing.”

My claws dug into my palm.

How meticulous. Using my foster-dam as leverage—forcing me to place everything on the table.

“I call,” I said hoarsely.

Laughter exploded around us.

The vault guardians were summoned. I recited the seal-chant to my hidden reserves. Only after confirmation was I allowed to continue.

Second draw.

I revealed a Black Claw Seven.

They revealed a Black Bloom Six.

“My hand,” I said calmly. “I wager her safety.”

Darian smirked, utterly unconcerned.

Third draw.

I turned over a Red Moon King.

They revealed a Black Claw King.

Darian pushed half the pile forward.

“I wager half your remaining wealth. You don’t get to refuse.”

My foster-dam sobbed helplessly.

“Kael… my child, stop. Let me go—”

“Mother,” I said softly. “It’s alright.”

Fourth draw.

I received a Black Bloom Seven.

They revealed a Red Moon King.

Darian lit a roll of bitterleaf and exhaled slowly.

“Still calling, Alpha?”

I stared at my paired Sevens and the hidden bone beneath my hand.

“I call.”

“Reveal.”

I had believed they couldn’t possibly hold three Kings.

I was wrong.

When the final bones were turned, my three Sevens were crushed beneath their three Kings.

The restraints cut into my flesh as I slumped back.

For the first time, despair outweighed pain.

The howls of triumph echoed through the sea-den, crashing against my ears like waves of mockery. The gathered wolves celebrated—not just their winnings, but the promise of what came next. My foster-dam, caged and vulnerable, would be their entertainment.

"I told you Kael Nightthorne would lose! A pathetic excuse for an Alpha like him could never defeat the Tidefang King in a Dominance Wager."

"Utterly delusional to even try."

Darian Frostveil exhaled smoke directly into my face, his posture radiating insufferable arrogance.

"Kael Nightthorne, how could you lose? Your mother is still waiting in that cage for you to save her!"

I lifted my head, my eyes burning crimson with barely contained rage. The final cards the dealer had thrown down were rigged—I had caught the scent of deception, noticed the subtle manipulation in the Tidefang King's movements. But what could I do about it? No one in this warded sea-den would believe me. Every wolf here wanted nothing more than to see me stripped of everything.

Before I could gather my thoughts, a sharp tearing sound cut through the den.

My heart lurched as I whipped around toward the cage. One of the males had seized Mara Nightthorne's outer garment and ripped it apart with brutal force.

"No! Get away from me! Get away!"

My foster-dam struggled desperately against her captors, but her Omega strength was no match for the males surrounding her.

The wolves in the crowd erupted with excitement, their predatory instincts inflamed.

"Look at that! Didn't I say this she-wolf had a fine form?"

"She doesn't look anywhere near her age! This will be entertaining!"

The more Mara screamed, the more frenzied their excitement became. Her distress was feeding their bloodlust.

I fixed my blood-red gaze on Selene Frostveil. She merely shrugged, utterly indifferent to the horror unfolding.

"Why are you glaring at me like that? This is entirely your fault."

"If you weren't such a worthless failure who lost the wager, she wouldn't be getting pawed at by these males."

"Though I should warn you—she's down to her last layer before they see everything underneath."

"Ha!"

She finished speaking and sauntered over to wrap herself around Darian Frostveil's waist. "Darian, feeling better now?"

"Not yet. She hasn't been stripped bare and thrown to the pack, and Kael Nightthorne hasn't lost his entire territory."

Selene reached up and playfully pinched his nose. "You're always so mischievous!"

"Then let's continue until you're completely satisfied."

Meanwhile, agony was tearing through my mind like claws raking across flesh.

Just as they had mocked me—forcing someone with no experience in Dominance Wagers to face a wolf who had never lost. It was like sending a pup to challenge a seasoned hunter.

Completely hopeless from the start.

For the next round, Darian Frostveil demanded my foster-dam's remaining garment as the stake. I was forced to wager my last territorial holdings, everything I had left.

When the final cards were revealed, I had lost again.

My entire being felt hollow, as if my wolf had been ripped from my soul. I slumped back against the chair, drowning in despair.

They tore away Mara's outer dress while laughing and raising their middle fingers at me in crude challenge.

"Kael Nightthorne, you're more pathetic than a mangy cur."

"You have nothing left to wager with, and your mother has only one piece of clothing remaining. What will you do now?"

Darian Frostveil rose to his feet with a triumphant grin, practically dancing with savage glee.

The other males reached through the cage bars, their hands roaming over my foster-dam's exposed skin.

"Stop it! Stop this immediately!"

"Please, no! Son, save me!"

"Please..."

Her desperate pleas, my furious roars—none of it moved Selene Frostveil to show even a shred of mercy.

"The final round is about to begin!"

"Kael Nightthorne, if you have nothing left to stake against us, then we'll simply declare that your mother will be—"

"Who says I have nothing left? I'll wager my life against you all."

"Darian Frostveil, do you dare stake your remaining hand and your other leg against me?"

The moment those words left my mouth, the entire sea-den erupted in wild excitement.

"Now this is thrilling! They're wagering lives and limbs!"

Darian Frostveil agreed without a moment's hesitation. "A life wager? I've been dreaming of personally breaking your legs for years."

"And in addition to that—all of Selene Frostveil's territories and tribute rights. What do you say?"

"Ha, you think I'm afraid of a worthless cur like you? Don't make me laugh. Fine, I accept the wager!"

Without further words, we signed the blood oath for the Dominance Wager—life against limbs—and signaled the den-keeper to deal the bones.

My first showing was the Black Fang Eight. I left my hidden bone unturned. Darian Frostveil drew the Red Claw Nine. The wolves around us snickered, assuming I had nothing worth calling. After all, this wager would end in blood regardless.

The den-keeper cast the second round. I received the Pale Root Five while Darian drew the Heart Eight.

Third casting—I pulled the Pale Root Four, and Darian showed the Heart Seven.

By this pattern, we were both tracking toward a Running Hunt sequence. Everything hinged on who held the true run, who commanded the highest claim.

When the final bones were cast, every wolf in the sea-den craned forward, breath held tight in their throats.

My showing was the Pale Root Seven. Darian's was the Heart Five.

"Damn, this round hangs by a thread."

"Tch, hangs by nothing. Kael Nightthorne has already lost."

Darian maintained his smug posture, rapping his claws against the bone-table with absolute confidence.

"Kael Nightthorne, this casting decides everything."

"I won't let you die quickly. No, I'll make you watch as your foster-dam is mounted and broken by every rogue wolf here. Ha!"

"Reveal!"

"My hidden bone is the Heart Six—higher than anything you hold. Kael Nightthorne, you're finished."

The moment Darian flipped his hidden bone, I heard the collective howl of shock from the gathered wolves.

"What—how is this possible? That's not the Heart Six!"