Captured and Claimed By the Four Princes.

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER TWO

Aurora’s POV

My head throbbed like someone had split it open with an axe.

My eyelids felt like they were glued together, but when I finally managed to pry them open, I realized the pounding wasn’t just inside my skull... it was all around me.

I heard a low, gutteral sound, and then the scrape of boots against stone.

I blinked, tried to sit up, and found that my wrists were bound tight to the arms of a chair.

A chair. Not a dungeon floor, not a cell corner, but an actual chair in the middle of some kind of chamber. My ankles were tied too. Whoever had tied the knots knew what they were doing.

Four sets of eyes bored into me.

Ressler was the closest, his massive frame looming like a wall of muscle. His amber eyes shine with barely restrained fury, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. Scars laced his forearms like old war maps. He wasn’t trying to hide his hatred for me.

To his right stood Daemon, pale as moonlight, his crimson red eyes studying me as though I were a puzzle he hadn’t yet decided whether to solve or destroy. His dark hair fell carelessly over his shoulders, but there was nothing careless about the way he leaned against the table.

Aregon lingered in the shadows near the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Silver hair caught the light, his moonlit eyes unreadable. He said nothing, didn’t even move, but his gaze weighed on me like a blade pressed to the back of my neck.

And Jessiel, lean, sharp, stood furthest away, cloaked in black. His icy blue eyes met mine for a fraction of a second before flicking away, like I wasn’t even worth the effort of acknowledgement.

Lovely company. Absolutely top notch.

“Finally awake,” Ressler growled.

His voice was gravel dragged across steel. “The little thief who thought she could walk into my territory and humiliate me.”

I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “Well, I wouldn’t call it humiliation,” I rasped. “More like a... borrowing. With style.”

His fists clenched. “You knocked my fiancée unconscious. For what? A trinket?”

I smirked even though my stomach was a knot of fear. Always better to play defiant than to let them smell weakness. “Oh, you mean that cheap pendant? Thought she wouldn’t miss it. You can’t tell me she even knew what it was worth.”

Daemon chuckled, low and silken. “She has a tongue as sharp as her fingers. I see why they hired her.”

“Shut up,” Ressler snapped at him. His eyes snapped back to me. “You think this is a game? That pendant belongs to Eloise, and you—”

“Correction,” I cut in, lifting my chin. “It belonged to whoever hired me to take it. I was just doing my job.”

Jessiel finally spoke, his voice colder than his eyes. “And who hired you?”

The room stilled.

Three words, but they made me freeze more than Ressler’s rage or Daemon’s curiosity.

I shrugged, keeping my expression blank, slipping on the mask. “Clients don’t usually give me their family history. You should know that.”

His stare pierced straight through me. “You’re lying.”

“Am I?” I said, forcing a laugh, though my pulse skittered in my throat.

Ressler slammed his hand down on the table beside me. The wood cracked. “You’ll pay for what you did. Theft. Treason. Attacking my betrothed. You’ll beg for death before I’m finished with you.”

A flash of heat rippled across my chest.

Startled, I glanced down.

The pendant which was still around my neck was glowing faintly now.

Wait.

Why was it still on me?

They hadn’t stripped it away?

I yanked against the ropes, twisting enough to catch the flicker of unease across their faces. None of them could seem to look away from me. Their stares clung to me like chains heavier than the ones cutting into my wrists.

Something was wrong.

Daemon tilted his head, voice deceptively soft. “Do you feel it too?”

Ressler shot him a glare. “Don’t.”

“What?” I demanded. My voice cracked louder than I wanted. “What the hell are you talking about?”

None of them answered.

Instead, Ressler jerked his chin at the guards stationed by the door. “Take her to the Elders. Let them decide.”

The guards grabbed me, ripping me out of the chair forcefully.

My legs shook like jelly from being bound too long, but I refused to stumble. If I went down, I know I'd get dragged like a rag doll, and I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction.

Plus, I didn't want my clothes all dirty.

They marched me down long, seemingly in ending corridors, torches lighting the way.

The air grew heavier with every step we took, thick with the smell of smoke and incense. When the doors finally opened, we entered what seemed to be the council chamber.

The old men there, who I assumed to be the said elders, sat in a semicircle, their faces carved with lines of power and age. At their center stood a woman whose sharp eyes glared at me judgingly as she studied me, lingering on the pendant glowing faintly against my chest.

Ressler jabbed a finger toward her, his voice booming across the chamber. “This girl here dared to walk into the Crimson Fang compound for no other reason than to attack MY fiancee and steal her pendant. The stolen pendant which she now wears around her neck. I demand that justice be served!”

Murmurs rippled through the chamber.

I raised my chin. “I didn’t do it for myself. I was hired—”

“Silence,” one of the Elders thundered. His voice shook the air.

I clenched my fists. “You want to know the truth, but when I'm telling you, you won’t listen to it? How convenient.” I finished off with an eye roll.

I was not in the spot to be sassy right now, but I didn't care.

Daemon’s chuckle floated behind me. “She does make a point.”

The Elder ignored him. “Well, she didn't deny it. This thief is guilty and as such, the punishment is clear.”

“Wait,” I tried again, desperation creeping into my voice. “That necklace—it’s not just some pendant. Look at it. It’s glowing. You think I did that? You think I even know what it means? Someone wanted me to take it."

The woman's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.

Another Elder slammed his staff. “Silence!"

The noise echoed throughout the place.

He turned his eyes to me as he said. "The sentence for your atrocity is death.”

A roar of agreement echoed. The council’s vote had been cast.

My blood turned to ice.

The guards yanked me back toward the dungeon, chains rattling.

“Dawn,” Ressler’s voice followed like a curse. “At dawn, you die.”