Mated To The Ice Werewolf King

I smooth my hands over the silk of my emerald gown, the fabric whispering against my skin as I pace the length of my chambers. The late afternoon sun streams through the tall windows of the Eastern Palace, casting golden light across the marble floors that have been my world for twenty-four years. Outside, I can hear the distant sounds of the kingdom, merchants calling their wares, children laughing in the courtyards, the steady rhythm of life continuing as it always has. But inside these walls, everything is about to change. The heavy oak doors to my chamber swing open without so much as a courtesy knock, and I turn to see my parents entering with the formal bearing that means serious business. Mother's midnight blue gown rustles as she moves, her silver crown catching the light, while Father's ceremonial robes of deep purple make him appear every inch the king he is. Their expressions are carefully neutral, but I can see the tension in the set of their shoulders. "Seraphina," Father begins, his voice carrying the weight of his crown. "Please, sit. We have important matters to discuss." I lower myself onto the velvet cushions of my reading chair, my hands folding in my lap. "What is it, Father? You both look as though someone has died." Mother takes a seat across from me, her pale blue eyes, so unlike my violet ones, studying my face with the intensity of someone memorizing a painting. "In a way, someone has, my dear. The woman you were yesterday." A chill runs down my spine despite the warmth of the room. "I don't understand." Father moves to stand behind Mother's chair, his hands resting on her shoulders in a gesture of unity that immediately puts me on edge. "The war with the Northern Kingdom has gone on too long, Seraphina. Too many of our people have died. Too many mothers have lost their sons, too many children have lost their fathers." "I know this," I say carefully, my heart beginning to race. "But what does that have to do with—" "The Ice King has agreed to a peace treaty," Mother interrupts, her voice gentle but firm. "One that will end this bloodshed once and for all." The words hang in the air like smoke, and I can feel the world shifting beneath my feet even before they speak the terms. I know, somehow, what they're going to say before the words leave their lips. "You are to be wed to King Kieran of the North," Father announces, his tone brokering no argument. "The ceremony will take place in one week's time." The breath leaves my lungs in a rush, and I grip the arms of my chair so tightly my knuckles turn white. My wolf, Luna, rises within me like a storm, her fury crackling through our shared consciousness. “Ice King,” she snarls, her voice a growl of disgust in my mind. “They want to chain us to that frozen monster. I can smell the fear on them; they know what they're asking.” "No." The word comes out as barely more than a whisper, but it echoes in the sudden silence of the room, carrying the weight of both my voice and Luna's rejection. "Seraphina—" Mother begins. "No!" I surge to my feet, backing away from them. Luna paces restlessly in my mind, her claws scraping against my consciousness. "You cannot be serious. The Ice King? Father, you've heard the stories; everyone has heard the stories. He's a monster. Cold, ruthless, without mercy or compassion. They say he's killed men with his bare hands, that his heart is made of ice just like his kingdom." “Death and snow,” Luna whispers, her voice heavy with ancient instinct. “That's all I smell when the northern winds blow. He's not a mate—he's a predator.” "Stories," Father says dismissively, but there's something in his eyes that suggests he's heard them too. "Kieran is a king, Seraphina. He does what he must to protect his people, just as I do." "By ruling through fear?" I spin to face the window, staring out at the gardens where I've spent countless hours reading, dreaming, imagining a future where I would marry for love. "I won't do it. I won't marry a man who sees emotion as weakness, who would treat me like a political transaction." "You are a princess," Mother says, rising to stand behind me. Her hand settles on my shoulder, warm and familiar. "This is what we do, my dear. We sacrifice for our people." I turn in her embrace, and for a moment, I see not the queen but the woman who used to sing me lullabies and kiss my scraped knees. "But you and Father are mates. You've told me the story a thousand times—how you recognized each other at the Harvest Festival, how the bond snapped into place the moment your eyes met." Pain flickers across her features. "We were fortunate. But even we understood that duty must come before desire. If our kingdoms had been at war, if thousands of lives hung in the balance..." She doesn't finish the sentence, but she doesn't need to. "The treaty has been signed," Father says, his voice heavy with finality. "The arrangements have been made. Kieran will arrive in six days for the ceremony." My hands tremble as I press them to my chest, feeling the rapid beat of my heart beneath my palm. "And if I refuse? What then?" The silence that follows is answer enough, but Father speaks it aloud anyway. "Then the war continues. More people die. More families are destroyed. The blood of every soul lost in battle will be on your hands." The weight of his words settles on my shoulders like a lead cloak. I think of the women in the marketplace, dressed in mourning black for husbands and sons who will never return home. I think of the children in the orphanages, whose parents were claimed by a war that has raged since before I was born. I think of the fear in people's eyes when they speak of the North, of raids and battles, and the endless cycle of violence that has defined my entire life. "I need time to think," I whisper, the words scraping past the tightness in my throat. "Of course," Mother says softly. "But Seraphina... there is no choice to be made. Only acceptance to be found." They leave me alone in my chamber as the sun sets behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold that remind me of everything beautiful in the world—everything I'm about to lose. I sink back into my chair and let the tears come, silent and bitter as they track down my cheeks. As darkness falls over the kingdom, I light the candles on my writing desk and stare at the blank parchment before me. My thoughts turn to Marcus, my childhood friend, who has grown into something more over the past year. Sweet, gentle Marcus with his warm brown eyes and easy smile, who brings me wildflowers and listens to my dreams with the patience of a saint. Marcus, who loves me for who I am, not what I represent. The idea comes to me slowly, like dawn breaking over the horizon. I don't have to accept this fate. I don't have to sacrifice my heart for politics and power. There is another choice—a choice my parents refuse to see. I can run. The plan forms in my mind with startling clarity. Marcus and I could leave tonight, disappear into the vast wilderness between kingdoms where no one would think to look for us. We could find some distant village where no one knows the name of the Eastern Princess, where I could be just Seraphina—a woman free to choose her own path. My hands shake as I pull out a sheet of my finest parchment and begin to write. The words come slowly at first, then faster as the reality of what I'm about to do settles over me. Dearest Mother and Father, By the time you read this, I will be gone. I cannot marry the Ice King, I cannot condemn myself to a life without love, without choice, without hope. I know you believe this is my duty, but I believe we each have a higher duty to our own hearts. I am sorry for the pain this will cause you, sorry for the complications it will create. But I cannot live a lie, cannot pretend to be something I'm not for the sake of politics. Find another way to make peace with the North. There must be another way. Please forgive me, and know that I love you both more than words can express. Your daughter, Seraphina I fold the letter carefully and place it on my pillow, then move to my wardrobe with purpose. Gone are the silks and satins of a princess, instead, I choose a simple traveling dress of deep brown wool, sturdy leather boots, and a dark cloak with a deep hood. I braid my long black hair and pin it close to my head, then gather what jewelry I can easily carry and convert to coin. The palace sleeps around me as I make my way through corridors I've known since childhood. Every shadow seems to hold guards, every creak of the floorboards sounds like thunder in my ears, but I move with the silent grace of someone who has explored every secret passage and hidden stair since she could walk. The stables smell of hay and horses, warm and familiar in the cool night air. I move quickly through the shadows, my heart pounding as I approach the stall where my mare is kept. My hands shake as I reach for her bridle. “Seraphina?” I spin around to find Marcus emerging from the darkness, his sandy hair disheveled and his shirt only half-tucked into his breeches. He must have dressed in a hurry after receiving my urgent note. “You came,” I breathe, relief flooding through me. “Of course I came.” He moves to help me with my mare, his movements quick and efficient despite the obvious rush. “When I got your message, I grabbed what I could—some food, water, a few supplies. It’s not much, but it’ll get us through the first few days.” He gestures to a single saddlebag slung over his shoulder, looking hastily packed and far from the well-planned escape I’d imagined in my desperate fantasies. “My horse is already saddled in the back,” he continues, keeping his voice low. “We need to go now, before the guard change. Once they discover you’re missing…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to. Within minutes, we’re mounted and moving through the gates, using the servants’ entrance where Marcus charmed the guard earlier with some story about checking the outer fences. In the moonlight, his face is tense but determined, and his smile, when he offers it, holds both promise and fear. “Are you certain about this?” he whispers as we reach the tree line. “Once we leave, there’s no turning back.” I settle into the saddle and pull my hood up over my head, casting my face in shadow. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” We ride out into the night, leaving behind the only life I’ve ever known for the promise of something better