Cursed, Bound and Marked by Midnight

CHAPTER THREE

Third Person POV

The dark sky was spotted with millions of stars casting little silver streaks through the window. The night was still and quiet, the moon's absence casting an eerie silence.

Lyra lay undisturbed in a big bed with white sheets surrounded by white quilts, blankets and pillows. Her eyelids fluttered for few seconds before they finally fluttered open. Confusion took its place on her once peaceful face and she sat up quickly as she slowly remembered what had happened.

Three nights. That was how long she had been asleep but she had no idea. Then, a man walked into the room, enveloping the air with a strong scent of pine resin and black amber.

“W-who are you? Where am I?” She stuttered as she retreated slowly, a chill crawling up her spine at the sight of the man. The room was dark but as if he read her mind, he switched on the lights, revealing a tall huge fierce looking man with silver eyes.

“I am Ronan Thorne, Alpha of the Silverglade pack and you're in my castle”. His voice was a low grunt and it sent a shiver down her spine, causing her to tremble in his cold, suffocating presence.

“How did I end up here? What am I doing here? How long have I been here for?”, she asked, trembling, her hands suddenly

getting cold as fear lodged in her throat. She wanted to get out of here, she needed to get out of here but she knew in her heart of hearts that she had nowhere to go. There was a manhunt and she was sure a bounty had been placed on her by now.

“You've been here for three nights and two days and you have been sold to me by your Aunt Rhea who promises you will make an excellent breeder”. He spoke slowly, his hands clasped behind his back as though he were calculating his words.

Lyra eyebrows shot up in shock, all the color draining from her face as dread pooled in her belly.

Ronan stared at the young wolf seated on the bed before him and he felt nothing but disdain for her. He could smell her fear and it angered him, stirring his gut at the sight of her weakness.

Ronan was a very feared and brutal Lycan, he was the "golden son” in his family.

Growing up, he was always stronger, sharper, faster than most wolves his age and was held up as the perfect heir. He always delivered, whether in combat, strategy, or diplomacy.

He was known across packs as “The Silver Fang”, a merciless enforcer who left no survivor when he hunted. His name alone silenced rooms and mothers warned their pups with his stories. Despite being feared, he was highly admired and respected, his name talked about across Greyspire.

He possessed special wolf abilities which set him aside from other wolves and one of them was the ability of his claws to burn like silver fire, able to tear through even enchanted barriers.

Now, as he stared at the weak omega before him, he remembered years ago when he entered into a bargain with her aunt, a desperate young woman who was scared for her life.

It was during the war caused by Lyra's parents, he had only been fourteen but was placed in the front line of the battlefield.

After the lifeless bodies of Lyra's parents lay on the ground, her aunt Rhea hid tearfully behind a building, scared for her life.

Ronan had stumbled upon her and she had begged for him to let her and her little niece go unharmed.

However, Ronan who was trained to never do a favour for anyone without entering a bargain that would benefit him greatly, came up with an offer.

So Aunt Rhea had not thought twice when he asked that her young niece be sold to him once she turned eighteen in return for sparing her life.

She promised that Lyra would make an excellent breeder and she would also be submissive to him.

Now, Lyra clearly overcome with fear, twisted her fingers together as she looked up at him with trembling lower lips.

“I was being chased by an army of wolves. What happened?” She asked, lines creasing her smooth white forehead.

“I took care of that situation”, he answered dryly, his deep voice etched with disgust.

“What did you do to them?”

“I erased them from existence. Or at least most of them, my gammas handled the rest”.

“You killed them?”

“Did I stutter?”

“I'm sorry, but, can I leave anytime I want to?”. This question caused Ronan to bark out a throaty laughter.

“Your Aunt is even more sly and evil than I thought. It's clear she never informed you of your impending captivity. Anyways, you are mine now, my little breeder. You can't leave this place, go anywhere or do anything unless I say so”. Tears started flowing out of her eyes.

“I hate seeing women cry because it makes me want to comfort you, when I should be staying away. But if I see them again, I might just kiss them off your face.”

“Your aunt was right about you being a breeder, though. I should send her some diamonds”.

Lyra froze in horror and her tears dried immediately.

“Huh? I don't understand what you're talking about”.

“Don't play dumb. You weren't planning to tell me you’re not alone in there? Don’t bother denying it. I can hear it barely formed, but loud. I felt two pulses when I carried you off the ground and brought you in here to lay you down”.

“You know I'm pregnant?”

“A slow breeder. I can work with that. Afterall, no one is perfect. Well, except me”.

Just then, someone walked into the room, a huge man with hunched shoulders and hooded eyes.

He was holding a royal pillow.

“Master”, he said, turning to Ronan, his body rigid in fear. “You asked for this?”

Resting on the pillow was the Wolfheart Talisman and Ronan reached for it, picked it up and dangled it in front of her.

“Now tell me, little wolf. What's this?” He asked her. “And why was this in your possession while hundreds of wolves chased after you, hungry for your blood?”

Her eyes widened, her hands trembling as her pulse thundered in her ears.

She suddenly feared that she was in the lion's den.

Sold, trapped, with no way out.

She feared that being at the mercy of Ronan was ten times worse than letting Kieran punish her with the Wolfheart.

The world seemed to spin around her, her heart pounded loudly in her chest, her mouth going dry as with increased fear, she came to a dreadful realization and recognition.

Standing before her was the man who murdered her parents.