STOLEN BY THE CURSED ALPHA

2:CHAINS FOR RINGS

AZARI FAIRBURN

A sharp pain pierced through my skull as my consciousness began to return.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the dim, flickering torchlight that painted the stone walls in restless shadows. Cold air nipped at my bare arms, and the dampness of the floor beneath my knees seeped into my bones.

A dungeon.

A filthy, godforsaken dungeon.

I shifted instinctively, but a metallic clink froze me in place. I looked down, heart hammering. Thick iron shackles encircled my wrists, chaining me to the wall above my head. I was trapped in a kneeling position, the rough stone scraping my knees.

A surge of panic rose, but I shoved it down with clenched teeth.

No.

I would not break. I couldn't afford to.

Not here. Not now.

I jerked against the chains, testing their strength. They didn’t budge. The shackles bit into my wrists, scraping skin raw, but I kept pulling, twisting, thrashing with everything I had. The chains rattled loudly, echoing through the cavernous stone cell, but the metal held firm.

After what felt like forever, breathless and furious, I slumped against the wall, my body burning with effort.

That was when I heard it.

Footsteps. Slow. Measured. Approaching.

The heavy door groaned open, spilling in more torchlight, blinding me momentarily.

Three men entered.

Two wore black cloaks and silver masks that obscured everything but their eyes — cold, calculating eyes that regarded me like a caged animal. But the third man… the one who walked between them, the one whose voice haunted the fading edges of my memory, wore no mask at all.

And gods, he was…

Terrifying.

He stood tall, broad-shouldered, and deadly, the very embodiment of danger wrapped in lean, powerful muscle. His messy black hair framed a face marked by jagged scars — not ones that marred his looks, but rather enhanced them, making him look like a storm that had forgotten how to end. His eyes were the color of a brewing tempest. Stormy-gray, cold and bottomless.

He smiled, slow and mocking, as he took in the sight of me chained to the wall.

“I’m glad that you’re finally awake,” he said, his voice low and mocking. “For a moment there, I thought you weren’t going to wake up again.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why are you glad that I’m awake? Did I fall asleep out of my own volition?” I snapped, my voice hoarse but steady. “Let me go now, and I’ll tell my fiancé to be gentle when he’s breaking your bones.”

The man chuckled. A sound that was more dangerous than amused. He stepped closer.

“It’s cute you believe that he’s going to come to get you,” he murmured, his mouth curling into a devilish smile that made my skin crawl. “But this isn’t a fairytale. No one’s coming to save you. You’re my prisoner now and no one is going to be able to change that.”

I barked a short, humorless laugh. “ Enjoy this moment while it lasts, because it’s going to be so fun for me watching you beg for your life when he’s done with you.”

He tilted his head, studying me with a kind of detached amusement. Then, without another word, he turned and began walking toward the door.

“I’m looking forward to it,” he said over his shoulder, the amusement never leaving his voice.

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving me once again in the heavy silence of the dungeon.

Shit!

I exhaled shakily, sagging against the wall. My wrists throbbed where the shackles dug into them, but I refused to cry. I refused to give them that satisfaction. Even if I was going to die here, I would make sure I showed them hell before I did.

Minutes later, the door creaked open again.

Two guards entered, carrying a tray of food — a crust of bread, a chunk of dried meat, and a small tin cup of water.

Gourmet dining at its finest.

One guard moved to unlock my shackles, keeping a wary distance.

The moment my wrists were free, I rubbed them tenderly, feeling the heat and bruising already blooming under my skin. I caught the guards’ eyes, the only part of their faces not hidden behind their masks.

I smiled.

Their brows furrowed in confusion.

With a surge of energy, I sprang to my feet.

The first guard reacted too late. I drove my knee straight into his gut, and as he doubled over, gasping, I grabbed the tray from his hands and smashed it into the second guard’s head. Metal clanged against skull, and he staggered back with a grunt.

I didn’t stop.

I stomped on the first guard’s foot, then elbowed him sharply in the throat. He crumpled to the ground, coughing and choking. I pivoted to the second, aiming a punch at his masked face, but he blocked it clumsily. Still, he was off-balance. I hooked my leg behind his and shoved him backward, sending him sprawling into the wall.

Both guards lay groaning at my feet within moments.

Breathing heavily, my knuckles smarting, I sprinted toward the door, heart pounding wildly.

Freedom.

I could almost taste it.

My fingers brushed the door handle—

And then a shadow blocked the doorway.

A hand shot out faster than I could react, pressing against my chest with just enough force to stop me dead in my tracks.

I looked up, and those stormy-gray eyes stared back down at me.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice filled with lazy amusement.

I glared at him, refusing to cower.

“You’ve got fire,” he said approvingly. “I like that. But unfortunately, it won’t help you get out of here. You’re here for a reason and I plan to accomplish my plans before you ever see sunlight again.”

I crossed my arms, ignoring the ache in my muscles. “What’s that genius plan of yours?” I asked.

"To see Mooncrest crumble beneath my feet.”

“And how do you plan to do that, oh wise and mighty abductor?” I sneered.

He smiled darkly. “Let’s just say… you’re playing a very active role in that plan.”

"You know I’ll never help you.” I spat.

He leaned in closer, so close I could feel the danger radiating off him like heat.

“Oh, but you already have,” he whispered.

Before I could retort, he struck; a swift, calculated hit to the side of my neck. The second time he’s done that. I have to figure out a counter before he tries it again.

Pain blossomed again, my vision swam.

As darkness dragged me under once more, his voice was the last thing I heard:

"Lights out, little wolf.”