Bound by the moonlight curse

The Captive Bride Pain. That was the first thing Princess Lucy Avanira felt when she stirred from the suffocating darkness. Her head throbbed, a dull ache radiating from the base of her skull. Her wrists burned, chafed raw by coarse ropes. Her dress—once pristine ivory silk embroidered with gold—was torn, stained with dirt and dried blood. The rich scent of pine and damp earth flooded her senses. The cold bit into her skin. She was no longer in the safety of Avanira’s palace. Panic surged through her veins. Her eyes shot open, adjusting to the dim torchlight flickering against stone walls. She lay on the rough floor of a cell, the iron bars twisted like claws. Beyond them, shadows danced—hulking figures that breathed too heavily, their eyes gleaming like predators in the dark. Werewolves. Lucy’s heart slammed against her ribcage. This was not a dream. She had been taken—ripped from her kingdom, from her father’s halls, from the future she was supposed to control. She was in the heart of Shadowfang, the cursed kingdom ruled by beasts. The sound of footsteps approached—heavy, deliberate. The guards parted, heads bowing slightly, and through the opening stepped him. King Leo Gideon. The Beast-Turned-King. His presence filled the chamber like a storm cloud—dark, menacing, impossible to ignore. He was taller than any man she had seen, his broad frame clad in black armor etched with silver wolves. His hair was as dark as midnight, falling to his shoulders in wild waves. His eyes—piercing gold—glowed faintly in the torchlight, both regal and feral. He was every horror story her nursemaids had whispered about when she was a child. And yet, there was something disturbingly human beneath the brutality—a king burdened by more than his crown. “You’re awake,” Leo’s voice was deep, gravelly—like distant thunder. Lucy forced herself to sit up, masking her fear behind steel resolve. “Release me,” she demanded, her voice sharp despite the tremor in her chest. “I am Princess Lucy of Avanira. My father—” “Your father,” Leo cut her off, “sent soldiers to slaughter my people under the cover of night. Women. Children. Elders. Tell me, Princess, what ransom could possibly repay that?” Lucy’s blood ran cold. She knew of the tensions between their kingdoms, but no such m******e had ever reached her ears. Was this a lie? Or had her father kept darker secrets? “I know nothing of this,” she said carefully. “But abducting me will only ignite war.” Leo crouched down so their eyes were level, his gaze unrelenting. “War is already at our door. Your fate was sealed the moment you were born into his bloodline.” She refused to break his stare. “Then why am I still breathing?” A cruel smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. “Because you are to be my bride.” The words struck her like a blow. “No.” She shook her head, eyes widening. “I will never—” “You will,” Leo said, his voice like stone. “Or your kingdom will burn. Those are your choices, Princess.” Her breath hitched. She had prepared her whole life for an arranged marriage to secure alliances—but this was no political union. This was a death sentence wrapped in a wedding veil. “You think forcing me will give you loyalty?” she hissed. “You’ll get nothing but a knife in your back.” Leo’s expression darkened, but there was no anger—only grim understanding. “Good,” he said. “I prefer a queen with teeth.” He stood, towering over her like a shadow. “You will be brought to my hall tomorrow. You will wear what is given to you. And you will swear loyalty to me before the blood moon rises.” Lucy clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms. She would not break. She would not let them reduce her to a pawn. “I will find a way out of this,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. Leo tilted his head, eyes narrowing with something between amusement and curiosity. “I look forward to watching you try.” With that, he turned and left, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. But just before the lock clicked, he added, “Oh, and Princess—pray that your heart is stronger than your father’s.” Lucy was left alone, trembling—not from fear, but from rage. Her father had secrets, and she was the one paying the price. She needed to escape. But more than that, she needed answers. And if King Leo thought he had captured a docile bride, he was gravely mistaken. The Next Day: The guards dragged her from the cell at dawn. She was bathed, her wounds roughly tended to, and forced into a dark crimson gown—heavy, elegant, but clearly meant to symbolize blood. A cruel message. Her hair was braided with silver threads, and a thin chain of black steel was fastened around her throat—a collar disguised as a necklace. They led her through the fortress’s stone halls, past wolf-eyed soldiers who whispered and stared. The tension was suffocating. She was an outsider—prey in a kingdom of predators. Finally, the grand doors of the throne room creaked open. Leo sat upon a blackened iron throne, flanked by his commanders. But it was the woman beside him that made Lucy’s chest tighten. Lady Seraphina. Tall, elegant, with raven-black hair and eyes like poisoned wine. She wore a dress of midnight silk and a knowing smirk. Her gaze lingered on Lucy like a blade against her skin. “Lovely,” Seraphina purred. “Our little lamb dressed for slaughter.” Leo’s eyes flicked to Seraphina, but he said nothing. His focus returned to Lucy. “Kneel,” a guard barked. Lucy’s body burned with defiance. She wouldn’t kneel to these monsters. But as her gaze met Leo’s, she saw something deeper—something dangerous. This was not just a show of power. This was a test. Defy them now, and she might not live to see another sunrise. Swallowing her pride, Lucy slowly bent her knees, lowering herself onto the cold stone floor. But as she did, she whispered under her breath—so faint only she could hear it: “This is not surrender. This is the beginning.” Leo’s golden eyes narrowed, as though he had heard more than he should. A low growl rumbled through the hall. The ceremony began.