The royal convoy moved swiftly through the dense forest, the sound of hooves pounding against the dirt road echoing in Celine's ears. The cool morning mist had long since burned away, leaving behind the golden light of midday, yet she felt cold inside.She sat stiffly in the royal carriage, her hands clenched in her lap as the towering trees blurred past the window. The road stretched endlessly before her, leading to a future she had no say in.
A forced marriage, a cold, cruel king and A fate she never wanted.
She had been torn from Ravenshire, from the only home she had ever known though it had never truly been hers. The people she had once called family had tossed her aside the moment her true bloodline was revealed. She had barely adapted her own parents, King Alaric and Queen Helena, Werewolf kingdom, her own kingdom and her people and now, instead of finding solace in a reunion with her birthright, she was being delivered to another kingdom, The Lycan Kingdom, like livestock for slaughter.
The thought made her stomach twist.
The air inside the carriage felt suffocating, thick with unspoken tension. Across from her sat a royal guard, his sharp eyes watching her every move. She wasn't treated like a princess on this journey.
It became clear, they didn't want her. She could hear their whispers whenever they thought she wasn't listening.
"She's too weak to be our queen." One voice said.
Another sneered . "A mere girl raised among humans? She won't survive a week in the Lycan Kingdom."
"King Damian won't even tolerate her."
Unable to bear the oppressive atmosphere inside the carriage any longer, Celine shifted her gaze outside, watching as the familiar forests of the Werewolf Kingdom faded into darker, wilder lands. The Lycan Territory was notorious for its harsh terrain, thick forests, jagged cliffs, and shadows that seemed to whisper secrets.
And somewhere deep in those lands waited Damian Blackwood, a name that sent a shiver down her spine. The stories of his cruelty, relentless power and merciless rule, echoed in her thoughts. He was known as the ruthless Lycan King and now, he was destined to become her husband.
As dusk approached, the pace of the convoy slowed. The guards set up camp, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows against the trees.
Celine sat apart from them, her back against a rough log, trying to process everything. Her old life was gone. She wasn't Celine Smith nor the outcast orphan. Now, she had assumed a new identity Celine Nightbane, the lost heir of the Werewolf Kingdom, and soon, Celine Blackwood of the Lycan Kingdom.
The fire crackled, the distant howls of wolves echoing through the mountains.
Then, a voice.
"You shouldn't trust them."
Celine's breath hitched. She whipped around, eyes scanning the dark woods.
The same figure that have been appearing to her emerged from the shadows cloaked, hooded, his features hidden beneath the dim moonlight.
Her pulse pounded. "Who are you?"
The man took a slow step forward, his posture calm yet alert. "A friend. Or perhaps just someone who doesn't want to see you thrown into a den of wolves without knowing the truth."
Celine's fingers tightened around the fabric of her cloak. "What truth?" she pressed, her voice low and cautious.
The stranger tilted his head. "That your marriage to Damian Blackwood is not just an alliance. There are deeper forces at play, ones that neither kingdom wants you to uncover."
Her heartbeat quickened as the implications of his words sank in. "Why should I believe you?" she challenged.
"Because," he murmured, stepping close enough that she could see the glint of silver in his gaze, "you're more important than they're telling you."
Then, as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone, vanishing into the night like a phantom.
Left standing alone by the dying light of the campfire Celine's breath came in short gasps.
'What has he been meaning? What dark, hidden truths lay beneath the surface of this arranged marriage?'
And why did she feel as though she was walking into something far more dangerous than an arranged marriage?
By morning, the landscape had changed completely. Hours passed. The forest gave way to rolling hills, and in the distance, Celine saw it, the Lycan Kingdom.
Towering black stone walls loomed ahead, stretching across the valley like a fortress built to keep outsiders away. The air here was heavier, filled with the scent of wild earth, The fortress was Just like the Werewolf Kingdom's elegant castles.
This was the home of Damian Blackwood. The feared and ruthless Lycan King. Her future husband. Even from a distance, the very structure of the palace exuded an aura of unyielding strength.
The air grew heavier as they approached the gates, flanked by warriors who radiated power and She had heard the stories Damian Blackwood was not a man of mercy, his reputation alone could send armies retreating before a battle even began. They said he was a monster, a beast cursed by the gods, a king who had never loved, never trusted, never bowed.
And now, he was to be her husband.
The gates creaked open as they approached, revealing a kingdom shrouded in mist and mystery and the sprawling courtyard of the Lycan Palace. The soldiers stood in disciplined rows, their silver armor catching the fading sunlight.
The carriage jolted to a stop, and for a moment, every eye in the courtyard turned toward her.
Celine took a slow breath, steeling herself before the door swung open. A knight stood before her, his expression was blank as the stone walls around them. This was General William, but those within the kingdom called him 'the Grim' because of his unyielding demeanor, unwavering loyalty to the crown and merciless actions.
"Welcome to the Lycan Kingdom, Princess," he said, his voice flat and devoid of warmth.
Summoning every ounce of strength, Celine forced herself to step out, feeling the weight of hundreds of eyes on her but she barely had time to register them.
Suddenly she felt it, a dark overwhelming presence. A shudder ran through her body, though the air was still. It was as if something ancient and powerful had just turned its attention to her. For a brief, moment, she couldn't breathe. Her heartbeat faltered.
And then…
It passed. The feeling was gone, like a shadow slipping away before she could grasp it.
Her stomach twisted as she saw him.
Damian Blackwood.
The Lycan King stood at the castle steps, his presence like a storm waiting to break. He was dressed in dark armor. His gaze piercing, gold like molten fire locked onto hers, unreadable.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, his lips curled into something dangerously close to a smirk.
"Welcome, Princess."
His voice was smooth, mocking, edged with something darker.
Celine's hands curled into fists. This man was her mate. He was her future and yet, in that very moment, she felt nothing but bitter resentment, she already hated him.
She was led to a grand chamber, too luxurious, yet cold and unfamiliar. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows along the stone walls, but she felt no warmth.
The servants who had accompanied her from the Werewolf Kingdom avoided her gaze, setting down food and silk robes before leaving quickly. Each act of service was a reminder that she was an unwelcome guest in this strange, foreboding land.
Alone, again. Celine let out a slow breath and walked to the window, staring out into the vast, foreign land that was now her home. The sky was ink-black, the full moon hanging heavily above the palace.