Chapter 5
1300 Words
The carriage didn’t move for several long seconds after the shout.
They’re blocking the road.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs as silence swallowed everything. Outside, the wolves snarled low and deep, their growls vibrating through the metal frame of the carriage.
Danger pressed in from all sides.
I could feel it.
Thick.
Heavy.
Waiting.
Across from me, he Malakor didn’t panic.
He didn’t shout.
He didn’t even stand.
He simply listened.
Still as stone.
Deadly as a blade.
Then slowly… he reached forward and lifted the curtain covering the small side window. Moonlight spilled into the carriage, cutting sharp shadows across his face.
His eyes darkened.
“Stay inside,” he said calmly.
The door opened before I could respond.
Cold night air rushed in, sharp and biting, carrying the scent of wet earth and tension. He stepped out of the carriage in one smooth motion, his presence instantly swallowed by the sounds of shifting armor and restless wolves.
The door slammed shut behind him.
And I was alone.
My breathing grew shallow as voices rose outside—low, tense, urgent. I couldn’t make out the words, only the tone.
Confrontation.
Authority.
Submission.
Silence.
Not chaotic silence.
Controlled silence.
The kind that happens when a stronger predator enters the territory.
A few seconds later, the carriage lurched forward again.
Smooth.
Steady.
Unstoppable.
I released a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. My body sagged slightly against the cushioned wall, exhaustion crashing over me like a wave. Every muscle ached. Every bone felt heavy.
I didn’t know how long we traveled after that.
Minutes.
Hours.
Time blurred into darkness and motion.
But eventually…
The carriage slowed.
Then stopped.
Completely.
A deep horn sounded in the distance different from the one before. This one wasn’t a warning.
It was an announcement.
Arrival.
My stomach twisted into tight knots.
Boots struck stone outside. Doors opened. Voices echoed. The air shifted cleaner, colder, more formal.
Then the carriage door swung open.
Light flooded in.
Bright.
Blinding.
I squinted against it, raising a hand instinctively to shield my eyes.
“Out.”
The command came from one of the guards.
Firm.
Not cruel.
Just absolute.
They guided me down from the carriage, their grip steady but controlled. My boots touched solid ground, and for a moment, I simply stood there too overwhelmed to move.
Because the world around me had changed completely.
I lifted my head slowly.
And my breath left my lungs.
A palace towered before me.
Massive stone walls stretched high into the night sky, lined with blazing torches that illuminated towering gates of black iron.
Banners hung from the battlements, snapping sharply in the cold wind. Wolves stood guard along the perimeter, their golden eyes glowing like watchful stars.
It was enormous.
Powerful.
Unforgiving.
Not a home.
A kingdom.
Fear curled tightly in my chest.
Because places like this didn’t belong to people like me.
“Move,” the guard instructed gently.
My legs obeyed automatically.
We crossed the courtyard, our footsteps echoing against polished stone. Servants and soldiers lined the path, their heads lowering respectfully as we passed. No one spoke.
No one questioned.
No one dared.
At the top of the wide staircase, towering doors opened inward with a heavy groan.
Warm air rushed out to meet us.
The inside of the palace was even more overwhelming than the outside.
High ceilings.
Crystal chandeliers.
Marble floors so smooth they reflected the torchlight like glass.
Everything gleamed with wealth and control.
I felt smaller with every step.
More out of place.
More exposed.
The guards led me down a long corridor lined with tall windows and flickering lamps. My reflection followed me in the glass thin, bruised, chained, trembling.
A stray.
Dragged into a world that would never accept her.
We stopped in front of a large wooden door.
One of the guards knocked once.
Firm.
Respectful.
The door opened almost immediately.
And the man standing there made my stomach drop.
He was younger than Malakor.
Not by much.
But enough.
His features were sharper. More playful. His dark hair fell carelessly across his forehead, and his eyes golden and bright scanned me slowly from head to toe.
Too slowly.
Too deliberately.
A smile spread across his face.
Not kind.
Not welcoming.
Hungry.
“Well,” he drawled, voice smooth and amused. “So this is the girl.”
My skin prickled instantly.
Instinct screamed danger.
The guards stepped back.
Respectful.
Submissive.
Leaving me alone with him.
The door shut behind us with a soft click.
My heart began to pound harder.
Faster.
Louder.
He took a slow step forward.
Then another.
Closing the distance between us.
“You’re smaller than I expected,” he said casually, circling me like a predator inspecting prey. His gaze dragged across my bruises, my chains, my face.
Lingering.
Evaluating.
Possessing.
I fought the urge to step back.
To run.
To scream.
Because something about him felt wrong.
Unstable.
Dangerous in a different way than Malakor.
More reckless.
More cruel.
He stopped directly in front of me.
Too close.
Close enough that I could feel the heat of his body.
Close enough that my breath caught in my throat.
“What’s your name?” he asked softly.
I swallowed.
“Daisy,” I whispered.
His smile widened.
“Pretty name.”
His hand lifted slowly.
My entire body tensed.
His fingers brushed against my chin, forcing my face upward.
The touch was gentle.
But the intention wasn’t.
“You know,” he murmured, voice dropping lower, “my brother has very… interesting taste.”
Cold fear flooded my veins.
Brother.
The word echoed in my head like thunder.
So this was….
The junior brother.
He leaned closer.
Much closer.
Too close.
My back hit the wall behind me.
Trapped.
Nowhere to go.
His hand slid from my chin to my neck, fingers tightening slightly not enough to hurt, but enough to control.
Enough to remind me how powerless I was.
My breath came faster.
Shallow.
Panicked.
“You’re trembling,” he whispered near my ear.
A slow, satisfied sound escaped his throat.
“I like that.”
Terror clawed up my spine.
I pushed weakly against his chest.
“Please…” I breathed.
Not begging.
Just afraid.
Very afraid.
His grip tightened.
His body pressed closer.
Blocking the door.
Blocking the air.
Blocking escape.
“No one will disturb us,” he said softly.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs.
Because I believed him.
I truly believed him.
His hand began to move again…
Slowly.
Possessively.
And just as panic reached its peak….
The door behind him exploded open.
The sound cracked through the room like thunder.
Both of us froze.
A heavy, suffocating silence followed.
And then….
A voice.
Low.
Cold.
Lethal.
“Remove your hands from her.”
The junior brother went completely still.
Slowly…
Very slowly…
He turned his head toward the doorway.
I followed his gaze.
And my breath caught.
Malakor stood there.
Tall.
Immovable.
Fury burning in his dark eyes.
The air around him felt dangerous thick with power barely held under control. Shadows seemed to cling to his frame, stretching across the floor like living things.
For a moment, no one moved.
No one breathed.
Then Malakor took one slow step into the room.
And the temperature seemed to drop instantly.
His voice came again.
Quieter this time.
More terrifying.
“I will not repeat myself.”
Silence.
Dead silence.
The younger brother’s smile slowly disappeared.
And for the first time since I had met him…
He looked nervous.
Then Malakor’s gaze shifted to me.
Sharp.
Protective.
Deadly.
And when he spoke next, the words sent a violent shiver down my spine
“Brother… explain why you are touching what belongs to me.”
- Writer
