The gates creaked open again, that familiar sound echoing through my bones. I'd heard it more times than I could count, but this time was different. This time, it was final. My fate, sealed.
"Your time is up," a guard growled, his hand clamping around my arm. His fingers were like iron, digging into bruises that hadn't yet healed. He leaned close, his breath hot against my skin. "The Lycan King will eat your heart."
My knees nearly gave out. Fear coiled in my stomach. The name alone made my blood run cold. He wasn't just a king. He was death itself.
Thorne Vargan Rhukor.
The ruler of the Southern Realm. The king of the Obsidian Kingdom. A monster made flesh. I'd grown up on the stories. His kingdom where the sun never rose. They said he was no man. No wolf. Just a beast… mad and cursed.
Of all the thousands of rumours that's gone around the realm, only one remained the same. The king killed his own mate and their unborn child. He ripped her organs out and fed it to the vultures.
My stomach churned, bile burning in my throat. I had never wanted to live more than I did in that moment, but death sounded merciful compared to what waited for me.
They dragged me from the cell. My bare feet scraped against stone. Outside, the air bit at my skin. The light from the torches flickered and I saw the other slaves, bounded together like cattles. They all looked the same, dull and eyes empty. I was no different.
Hope didn't live here anymore.
We began the long march to Obsidian. I didn't speak. What was there to say? Just days ago, I had been Luna. Now, I was nothing but another slave to be sacrificed as a peace offering to the mad king.
The whispers began after the first night.
"They say the king can't die," someone murmured behind me. A woman, young, shaking. "They say he's cursed."
"Don't look him in the eye," another whispered. "He'll see into your soul and decide if you're worth keeping."
I tuned out their voices, it only made the rest of us agitated. I clutched my belly with trembling hands, as if the pressure could shield the pup inside me. I tried to reach for my wolf. Nothing. Just silence.
Even she had abandoned me.
——
The journey lasted seven days. Seven long, brutal days.
My legs burned. My throat cracked with thirst. My skin stung from the cold, but it was the sight ahead that froze my blood solid.
Mountains loomed in the distance. Dark, jagged things pierced the sky. And beyond them… the Obsidian Kingdom.There was no sun here. No warmth. The rumors were true.
The caravan stopped. The guards who had once sneered and jeered at me now stood stiff, clearly scared. I watched one make the sign of the goddess with trembling fingers. Another muttered a prayer beneath his breath.
Then I saw them.
The soldiers of Obsidian.
They stood at the border like statues carved from midnight. Black armor gleamed Their eyes glowed silver, inhuman, otherworldly.
These weren't wolves. Not fully.
There was no soul in their gaze. No warmth.
One of Roman's guards stepped forward, voice shaking. "By order of Alpha Roman Heightens… we deliver the offering. Slaves… for His Majesty, the ruler of the realm. The Lycan King of Obsidian."
The silver-eyed soldiers didn't blink. They didn't speak. They stepped forward as one, eerie and silent.
Chains were handed over. And that was it. I wasn't Roman's problem anymore.
I belonged to Obsidian.
The second I stepped past the border, I felt it. My body tensed. My bones ached and a shudder wrecked through my spine..
No one else reacted. Just me.
I swallowed hard, forcing my legs to move.
The city was unlike anything I had imagined. Not monstrous like I thought, nor was it grotesque.
It was Beautiful. Mesmerizing even.
The palace stood tall like something eternal. High towers stretched toward the sky, carved with ancient runes I didn't understand. The stones shimmered in the light. It was regal. Timeless. Powerful.
And terrifying.
The gates opened without a touch and we were led inside.
A woman waited for us. Tall, sharp eyes, her black hair tied tightly behind her. When she spoke, her voice cut through the air sharply.
"Bring them all to the hall. The king will have a look."
We were taken in. The hall was silent. Too silent.
I stood at the very end of the line, arms bound, wrists raw. The other slaves stood before me, heads bowed, trembling.
No one dared breathe too loud.
He was coming.
Thorne Vargan Rhukor.
I didn't need to lift my head to feel him enter. The air changed. It was Heavy and Suffocating.
The soldiers straightened. The woman bowed low.
I risked a glance and there he was.
Taller than any man I'd seen. Dressed in black. His hair dark as midnight, swept back from a face sculpted by gods. A jaw that could cut steel. Eyes that—
Gods.
His eyes.
They were gold. Molten. Alive.
He wasn't what I expected.No. He was worse.
He was Terrifyingly beautiful.
He walked the line slowly, gaze flicking over each of us without interest. No emotion. No care.
Then he reached me and stopped.
I kept my eyes down, not daring to look him in the eye. I didn't breathe. The silence stretched. Too long.
Suddenly… his hand touched my chin. His hand was cold. So cold. He tilted my face upward to face him.
Our eyes met.
And the world—stilled.
His gaze locked on mine, unblinking.
Something flickered in his eyes. A flash, barely there. But I saw it.
Recognition?
No. It couldn't be.
Suddenly, his eyes burned red, and he stepped back like I'd burned him. His eyes wide now, almost like he couldn't belive it.
"It couldn't be…"