Enslaved by the Lycan

chapter 01

I ran.

I ran like never before. I ran on pure instinct. My legs ached; my entire body ached. My dress was stained with the red juice of the crushed blackberries and, God, I was in a total panic.

"Juno!" someone shouted, stopping me in my tracks.

It was James, one of my classmates from the small college we had in the village. I trembled, clutching the sleeves of his sweater, as a heavy tear rolled down my cheek.

"W-Wolf..." I groaned.

And then, before I could think clearly, explain exactly what had happened, or do anything else, the world went dark, and I collapsed into his arms.

***

I woke to the scent of dried herbs and the crackling of wood burning in a fireplace. My head throbbed. It took me a few seconds to recognize the dark timber ceiling: I was in the elders' house, the place where the village's most important decisions were made.

James stood in a corner, pale, speaking in whispers with three older men. When I moved, every eye turned toward me.

"Juno, how are you feeling?" old Rick asked.

"Fine, I think..." I whispered.

When I tried to stand, the door swung open with a bang. My mother rushed toward me, falling to her knees beside the bed, her face swollen from crying.

"My daughter... Goddess, I warned you! I warned you not to go!" She sobbed, clutching my hands as if I would vanish if she let go.

"I’m okay, Mom. I just... I saw something."

The elders approached. Their faces were masks of stone.

"Juno," the eldest began, his voice deep. "James said you screamed about a wolf. We haven't seen wolves in these lands for decades. Are you sure about what you saw?"

"I am certain!" My voice came out sharp, nearly a scream. "He was immense. Black. Larger than any animal I’ve ever seen. He was right in front of me."

"You said he spoke to you," James intervened, stepping forward, his eyes full of doubt. "How did he speak? Wolves don’t talk, Juno."

I felt a shiver run down my spine. The memory of that voice invading my mind was worse than the image of the fangs.

"It wasn't with his mouth," I whispered, feeling my hands tremble against my mother’s. "It was... in here. In my head. He didn't need to bark or growl. I heard the words perfectly. Damn it, am I going crazy, Mom?"

My mother stifled a scream, covering her own mouth. The elders exchanged looks, dread beginning to crack their expressions of authority.

"What did he say?" the elder asked, leaning in close.

I swallowed hard. The taste of blackberry was still in my mouth, now mixed with the bitterness of fear.

"He called me a rabbit. Told me to run. He... he was playing with me. As if he were waiting for me to do exactly what I did."

"That’s impossible," James muttered, pacing back and forth. "It’s a delusion. It’s the village’s fear affecting you."

"It wasn't a delusion!" I stood up from the bed all at once, my legs shaky. "I felt his heat. I saw the intelligence in those eyes. If you don't do something, he will come back. He didn't look like someone who was just passing through."

They asked me a thousand times about the size, the color, the exact spot. My mother wouldn't stop praying under her breath, a sound that was driving me mad. Finally, seeing my desperation and the certainty in my gaze, they gave in.

"Even if no King exists," the elder decided, looking at the others, "we cannot ignore a predator of that size. Let’s gather the people in the square. We need to double the watch. If it’s a wolf, we kill it. If it’s... something else, we must be ready."

The central square was packed. The buzz of voices was like a swarm of bees, irritating and heavy with dread. I stood beside old Cyrus, feeling like a child being scolded. My hands gripped my water bottle so hard that my knuckles were white.

Cyrus swallowed hard. You could see the sweat glistening on his forehead. He was the fourth of his lineage in five hundred years; the next to take over would be his son, Hugo, as soon as the old man died. Leadership was a weight that, at that moment, seemed to be crushing his shoulders.

He stepped onto the small podium and cleared his throat. The silence that followed was piercing.

"People of our village," Cyrus began, his voice wavering. "We know the rumors. We know the fear that today’s date brings. Juno claims to have seen a creature in the forest. Although we do not believe in fairy tales, we cannot ignore the safety of our daughters. Therefore, starting today, we will double the watch and..."

The sound of heavy hooves against stone interrupted his words.

It wasn't an ordinary noise. It was rhythmic and heavy, as if the earth itself were trembling. Ten men emerged from the main road, mounted on horses as dark as the night. They wore worn-out jeans and sneakers and were shirtless, their chests damnably exposed, displaying muscles that looked carved from stone. Their presence was brutal, charged with an energy that made the air vibrate.

The crowd drew back, seized by immediate shock.

The man in the middle, however, did not look at Cyrus, the armed men, or the desperate mothers. He kept his sharp eyes on me as he approached, a steady aim that pinned me in place. His skin glowed under the late afternoon light, and the intensity of his gaze was the same I had seen in the forest.

He stopped his horse a few meters from where I stood. The silence was so absolute that I could hear the snap of the plastic bottle I was crushing between my fingers.

Cyrus tried to find his voice, but it came out tiny:

"Who are you? We don’t allow armed strangers in—"

"The time for your permissions is over, old man," the stranger interrupted, his voice cold as ice.

The man jumped from his horse with predatory agility. He took a step forward, ignoring the elder. His voice came out deep, vibrating in my chest:

"We have come to claim the agreement our ancestors struck over a thousand years ago. The cycle has closed. The King claims what he was promised."

A murmur of horror rippled through the square. Hugo tried to take a step forward, but a low growl from the other men made him freeze. The stranger in the center smiled, a cold gesture that revealed teeth that were far too perfect.

"You don't need to go to the trouble of choosing," he said, keeping his eyes locked onto mine as he pointed a long finger in my direction. "The King already has his chosen mate."