The Vows Of Vengence

The scent of blood still hung in the air. Even though the battlefield was now silent, the ghosts of war hadn’t yet settled. Smoke drifted lazily from the charred remains of once-proud watchtowers, and the flags of the Kane Pack—ripped and stained—fluttered lifelessly in the wind. The earth was scorched, the land broken, but the victors stood tall amidst the wreckage. At the center of it all stood Alpha Damien Blackthorn, dark, ruthless, and as unrelenting as the winter storm that seemed to live in his steel-grey eyes. His black cloak billowed behind him, the blood of his enemies still fresh on the edge of his blade. Warriors flanked him on both sides, their armor glinting in the dying sunlight. They watched with hard expressions as the last of the Kane warriors knelt before them, disarmed and defeated. Among them stood Alpha Kane himself—wounded, bruised, and shackled in both body and pride. Damien stepped forward, his boots crunching over broken stone and blood-soaked grass. He looked down at the kneeling Alpha with a sneer. “You ruled with arrogance. You have no idea how long I have waited for this day,” he said, voice cold. “You should have known better than to challenge me.” Alpha Kane looked up; he looked defeated, bruised, and wounded. He was bleeding badly, barely hanging on to his life, meeting Damien’s eyes with what little strength he had left. “And you’ll rule with cruelty. That makes you no better,” Alpha Kane said in his hoarse voice before coughing blood. “No,” Damien replied smoothly, his voice like velvet laced with iron. “It makes me the victor,” he said proudly as he looked at the chaos around him, enjoying the bloodshed and ruins of his enemies. This is what he had dreamed of for so long: destroying Kane and bringing him to his knees. With a wave of his hand, his soldiers dragged Kane up to his knees and forced him to look toward the grand ceremonial pyre now built in the heart of Kane’s once-great courtyard. The surrender ceremony was not just symbolic—it was humiliation designed to break the spirit. “I have taken your land. Your warriors. Your wealth,” Damien declared, his voice echoing. “But I’m not finished. There is one more thing I will take to ensure you never rise again.” Kane's eyes narrowed. “What more could you possibly want?” Damien turned slightly and gave a nod. From the rear of the courtyard, two of his guards stepped forward, dragging a young woman between them. Her long black hair was tangled but proud, her dress torn but regal. Her wrists were bound, yet she walked with her head held high. Her lips were tight, her chin defiant. Selina Kane. The beautiful daughter of Alpha Kane, Seline was petite, fair, and had long black hair. She had enchanting beauty, and many alphas wanted her. And Selina was also Kane's daughter, Damien's enemy's daughter. She was nineteen, fierce, and flame-hearted. The fire in her eyes didn’t falter even as she was forced to her knees before the man who destroyed her world. “No,” Kane whispered, realizing too late what Damien’s price for peace would be. “Yes,” Damien said, his gaze locking on Selina like a predator sizing up its prey. Seeing the arrogance and the ego in her eyes made Damien even more determined to break her, to strip her off her pride and make her miserable as hell. “Your daughter. As my bride.” A stunned silence followed. Selina’s head snapped up. “I would rather die,” she spat. Damien only raised an eyebrow. “So dramatic,” he murmured, circling her slowly. “I don’t need your love, little wolf. Just your obedience. You’ll be the symbol of my victory. The final humiliation of your bloodline.” Her body trembled, not from fear—but fury. “I will never bow to you. Never.” Kane lunged forward, only to be yanked back by chains like a dog. “Please, Damien—” “She’s your daughter, Kane,” Damien said calmly. “I’m giving her the chance to keep her family alive. If she refuses, I’ll take her anyway and toss her to my men; she'll be thrown around between my men and used till she dies, and your remaining bloodline dies with her. Being my wife is way better than being a slave. It's a very generous offer, Kane.” Selina looked at her father, searching his eyes, hoping for strength or outrage—but instead she saw defeat. Regret. Fear. “Selina,” Kane whispered, voice cracked and hollow, “you have to go with him.” Her heart dropped as he looked at her father with horror. “You’re giving me to him like a lamb to slaughter.” “I’m trying to save what’s left,” he said, barely able to meet her gaze. “This marriage… it’s the only way the killings will stop.” She stared at him, breath shallow. “You’re a coward.” “And you’re a fool,” Damien added, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to look at him. “You think you can glare your way out of this? You’re mine now.” She slapped his hand away. “You’ll regret this.” Damien leaned in, so close she could see the silver flecks in his irises. “No, Selina. You will.” He stood tall and gestured to his men. “Prepare her. The wedding will take place tomorrow.” “Wedding?” Selina scoffed. “You think this will be a wedding?” Damien turned away, not bothering to look back. “Call it whatever you like. In the end, you’ll wear my mark and my name, and the world will know you belong to me.” As she was dragged away, Selina twisted back toward her father, tears stinging her eyes but not falling. “You let him win.” Kane looked down, shame too heavy in his chest. And just before she was out of sight, she called out to Damien. “I swear to you,” she said through gritted teeth, “one day, you’ll beg for mercy—and I won’t give it.” Damien paused for a second—just a second—then smirked over his shoulder. “I’m looking forward to it.”