Captive of the King
863 Words
Consciousness returned slowly, like surfacing from deep water. My body ached, the broken bond still a dull throb in my chest, but something warm and soft cradled me. Not the cold forest floor.
Silk sheets. A fire crackling nearby. The strong scent of dark pine, smoke, raw power which wrapped around me like a blanket, making my skin tingle.
I bolted upright, heart slamming. I was in a massive bed, draped in black furs, inside a stone chamber lit by torches and a roaring hearth. Ancient tapestries covered the walls—wolves, moons, battles. This wasn't Ember Ridge. This was... somewhere else.
The door creaked open.
He stepped in.
The man from the forest. Taller than Kai, broader, with black hair falling to his shoulders and eyes like molten silver. Scars traced his jaw and neck, disappearing under a fitted black shirt that clung to every hard line of muscle. Power rolled off him in waves like an alpha, but stronger. Older. Terrifying.
And beautiful in a way that made my breath catch.
His gaze locked on me, nostrils flaring as he inhaled. A low rumble vibrated from his chest. My body reacted instantly, strong heat flooding my veins, a pull so strong it scared me.
Mate.
No. Impossible. I'd just been rejected. The bond was broken.
But my wolf which has silent my whole life stirred again, whispering the same word.
He crossed the room in three strides, stopping at the bed's edge. Up close, he was even more intimidating. Authority etched into every feature, like he was born to rule.
"You're awake," he said, voice deep and rough, sending shivers down my spine.
"Where am I?" I demanded, pulling the furs higher. My voice cracked, but I held his stare. "Who are you?"
His lips curved in a half-smile that wasn't kind. "You're in Blackwood Castle. My home." He paused, eyes darkening. "And I am Thorne Blackwood. King of the Lycans."
Lycan. Not werewolf. The ancient, stronger race, legends said they were near extinct, ruling from hidden kingdoms. Feared by all packs.
My stomach dropped. I'd stumbled into the most dangerous territory possible.
"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, edging back. "Let me go."
His expression hardened. "You were dying in rogue lands. My lands. I don't leave trespassers to fate." He leaned closer, one hand bracing on the bedpost. "Especially not when they carry my scent."
My heart stuttered. "Your scent?"
He inhaled again, slow and deliberate. "You're my mate, little one. The Moon Goddess's gift. The bond calls to me as strongly as it does to you."
I laughed bitterly. "You're wrong. I was rejected hours ago. The bond broke. I felt it snap."
Something dangerous flashed in his silver eyes. "A fool's mistake. A true Lycan bond doesn't break so easily." His voice dropped. "And no one rejects what's mine."
The possessiveness in his tone should have terrified me. Instead, heat pooled low in my belly. I hated it. Hated him for making my body betray me.
"I'm not yours," I snapped. "I accepted the rejection. I'm free."
He straightened, folding powerful arms. "Free? You're weak, scentless, banished. Running alone in rogue territory." His gaze raked over me, clinical but heated. "You'll stay here until you're healed. Until you understand."
"Understand what?"
"That fate doesn't make mistakes." He turned toward the door, pausing. "Rest. Food will be brought. Try to run, and my guards will stop you. Gently."
The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.
I collapsed back against the pillows, mind racing. Lycan King. Mate. Impossible.
But his scent lingered, wrapping around me, soothing the ache from Kai's rejection even as it sparked something new. Something dangerous.
Hours passed. A silent female servant brought stew and bread with delicious fillings. My strength returned slowly. I explored the chamber: locked windows, heavy door, but luxurious. A prison dressed as a guest room.
Night fell. The fire died to embers.
The door opened again.
Thorne entered carrying a tray of wine, fruit, cheese. No servants this time.
"You didn't eat enough," he said, setting it on the bedside table. His presence filled the room, overwhelming.
"I don't need your pity."
"Not pity." He sat on the bed's edge, too close. "Care. You're mine to protect now."
I scooted away. "Stop saying that."
He reached out slowly, brushing a strand of hair from my face. His touch burned, sparks racing across my skin. I froze.
"You feel it," he murmured. "The pull. Your wolf knows."
I jerked away. "My wolf never showed before tonight. Because of you?"
His eyes narrowed. "Interesting." He stood abruptly. "Sleep. Tomorrow, we talk about why a scentless omega makes my ancient blood sing."
He left, locking the door.
I lay awake, heart pounding. His touch lingered like a brand.
Outside, a howl echoed, very deep, commanding. Not like any wolf I'd heard.
And something inside me answered.
Just as sleep claimed me, pain lanced through my veins, very hot, burning. My back arched. Vision blurred.
Power. Awakening.
The door burst open. Thorne rushed in, eyes glowing.
"What’s happening to her?" he growled to someone behind him.
Then everything went black again.
- Writer
