BOUND TO THE CURSED LYCAN HEIRS

THE FIRST ATTACK

The first arrow struck before dawn.

It cut through the bell rope with a snap that cracked the quiet. The old bronze bell crashed down and shattered.

Kaelira shot upright in bed.

What was that?

Then screams—one, then another, then many—ripped apart the morning. The world outside was chaos, just like that.

Kaelira flung open her door.

Smoke rolled over Black Hollow. People ran everywhere, scooping up kids, clutching whatever they could grab.

“Hurry!”

“They’re here!”

“Run!”

A cart, already on fire, tipped over in the square. Flames raced across rooftops.

Kaelira yelled, “What happened?”

No answer. Panic swallowed up every word.

A woman, wild-eyed, grabbed Kaelira’s arm. “They’re looking for you!”

“For me?”

She just nodded—eyes wide—then yanked her boy away.

Kaelira’s pulse jumped. The ground shuddered under her. Heavy footsteps pounded the dirt. Not human. Way too heavy. Way too fast.

She looked to the main gate.

Wood exploded. Gates burst inward, splinters everywhere.

Out of the smoke came dozens of figures. Bodies wrapped in black armor, faces hidden behind silver masks. They each carried curved blades etched in glowing red lines. They moved like shadows—no voices, no breathing, every step in perfect sync.

The villagers froze, trapped by fear.

One masked warrior stepped forward. His voice echoed from behind his helmet. “Search every house.”

Another raised his blade. “Bring me the girl.”

Kaelira’s blood turned to ice.

They weren’t here to rob or conquer.

They wanted her.

Village Elder Rowan hobbled out to the center of the street, gripping his carved staff.

“You have no authority here.”

The masked leader didn’t even glance at him. “Move.”

“I won’t.” Rowan held his ground. “This village has harmed no one.”

The reply came fast—a flick of the leader’s wrist, a burst of red crackling energy that slammed Rowan hard enough to toss him across the road.

“Elder!” Kaelira dashed toward him.

Mira grabbed her, tears streaking down her face. “No!”

“We have to help him!” Kaelira shouted.

“If you stay… they’ll kill everyone.”

Kaelira looked around. The attackers ignored everyone else. Every masked gaze hunted for one person: her.

She caught her breath. “I’m why they’re here.”

Mira just nodded.

“You have to leave,” she said softly.

Kaelira’s eyes flicked from house to house, the flames, the kids crying, Rowan wheezing in the dirt. The guilt was a stone in her chest.

“I can’t just leave them.”

Mira’s voice trembled. “You already know what happens when people stay with you.”

That broke something inside Kaelira. She remembered every funeral, every accusation, every full moon.

All that was left was leaving. Maybe running was the only way to save them.

She blinked away tears. “I’m sorry.”

And she ran.

—

The forest swallowed her in cold silence. Branches slapped her cheeks as she ran faster and faster.

Behind her came the unmistakable sound of pursuit. Boots pounding, way too quick. No normal person moved like that.

She risked a look over her shoulder.

Three assassins, faces hidden, stormed after her—leaping over logs, hopping boulders, locked in on her with burning eyes.

No…

Kaelira pumped her arms harder, the mark on her chest throbbing with every heartbeat.

She broke through into a clearing—and skidded to a stop. A cliff, sudden and steep, dropped to a river below.

She spun.

The assassins surrounded her, weapons gleaming. The leader stepped forward.

“Kaelira Ashwood.” His voice was steady. “You will come with us.”

Kaelira shook her head, knife shaking in her fist. “I don’t even know who you are!”

“You don’t need to.” He lifted his hand. The others raised their blades.

Kaelira gripped her knife tighter. She knew it wouldn’t help. Still, she wasn’t giving up.

The leader inched closer.

Then he stopped.

His helmet tilted. He was staring at the black mark burning beneath her ripped collar.

And then silence. The tension snapped. In unison, every assassin lowered their weapons.

Kaelira stared. “What are you…?”

The leader’s breathing faltered. He shook, almost like he was afraid.

Then, to her shock, he dropped to one knee.

The others did too—bowed heads, weapons laid down.

The forest went dead still.

He slipped off his helmet. He looked younger than she guessed, eyes brimming with tears.

His voice cracked. “Forgive me… Your Majesty.”

Kaelira’s mind reeled. “My… what?”

But before anyone could say more—

THWIP!

An arrow tore through the leader’s throat. His eyes went wide, blood splattering the moss as he crumpled at her feet.

The others didn’t even have time to recover. Another arrow—then another. More fell.

“Take cover!”

“Find the archer!”

Panic exploded. Arrows hailed from the shadows, cutting down the rest.

Kaelira whipped her head up to the branches. Someone was up there.

A lone archer, pale in the dim, silver eyes fixed on her for a second—then gone, vanished deep into the leaves.