The Werewolf King

The one who would not kneel

Chapter Five Lucia — The One Who Would Not Kneel

Lucia counted her breaths.

Not because she was calm.

But because if she stopped, she would scream—and she refused to give Kyran that satisfaction.

The room she’d been thrown into was circular, carved from dark stone veined with glowing crimson lines that pulsed like a living heartbeat. Chains hung from the ceiling, not restraining her—yet—but deliberately placed. A warning. A promise.

Kyran leaned against the wall across from her, arms crossed, watching her like a child studying a caged animal.

Interesting. Calculating.

“You didn’t cry,” he said at last, head tilting slightly. “Most do.”

Lucia lifted her chin despite the pain screaming through her body. Her cheek still burned from the slap. Her wrists ached where he’d gripped her.

“I cried enough tonight,” she said hoarsely. “I’m done.”

Kyran chuckled. “Brave words for someone in Grimmoon.”

She glared at him. “You killed my father.”

His smile faded—just a little.

“No,” he corrected. “Rhett did. I watched.”

Her stomach twisted, but she didn’t look away. “Then you’re just as guilty.”

For a moment, she thought he might hit her again.

Instead, he pushed himself off the wall and walked toward her slowly, boots echoing in the chamber.

“Guilt is a luxury,” he said. “One Grimmoon burned out of us centuries ago.”

He stopped a few steps away.

“You’re different from your sisters.”

Lucia’s fingers curled. “Don’t speak about them.”

Kyran’s eyes flicked with interest. “There it is. That fire. Sarayah has fear. Crystal has softness. But you?” He crouched in front of her, level with her eyes. “You have teeth.”

She swallowed hard. “If you touch them—either of them—I will kill you.”

The words came out steady.

Kyran laughed.

A real laugh this time—low and delighted.

“Oh, I like you,” he said. “You might actually survive me.”

Her heart skipped painfully. “That’s not comforting.”

“It’s not meant to be.”

He stood and snapped his fingers.

The chains rattled—not moving, just reminding her they existed.

“Listen carefully, Princess Lucia,” Kyran said, his tone shifting—sharper now. “You belong to me under Grimmoon law. That doesn’t mean I break you tonight. Or tomorrow. Or even soon.”

He leaned down, his face inches from hers.

“It means I remake you.”

Her breath trembled despite her effort. “I won’t become one of you.”

Kyran smiled thinly. “Everyone says that.”

He straightened and turned toward the door. “You’ll be given food. Water. Time to think. Refuse it if you want—I’ve had stronger starve themselves into obedience.”

He paused at the doorway.

“Oh—and Lucia?”

She looked up.

“The moment you stop fighting,” he said softly, “is the moment I lose interest. So don’t.”

The door shut behind him with a heavy finality.

Lucia sagged against the wall only after he was gone.

Her breath broke then—just once.

Sarayah. Crystal.

Her little sister alone with a king of monsters. Her youngest dragged off by a creature who smiled at pain.

Lucia pressed her forehead to the cold stone.

“I won’t break,” she whispered fiercely to the empty room. “I don’t care what this place is. I don’t care what they are.”

Her eyes hardened, tears drying before they could fall.

“I will survive. I will learn. And when I get free—”

Her voice dropped to a vow sharp as steel.

“Grimmoon will remember my name.”