The Lethal Luna

Captured

SOPHIA

The forest spoke in whispers tonight, wind slipping through the trees like a warning. I moved with it, quiet and alert, every sense sharp. They were close. I’d felt them trailing me for hours now. They were not rogues, neither were they amateurs. These were trained wolves: pack soldiers. And only one Alpha had the kind of pull to send this many after someone like me.

Rory Rydir.

I pressed my palm against a tree, feeling the faint remnants of the ward I’d placed last night. It had been broken. They were in my territory now.

I crouched low, letting my fingers brush the dirt. My traps were still active, the thorn bed near the ravine, the net strung between the birches, the spell-laced path just beyond the stream. If they thought they could corner me, they were dead wrong.

I wasn’t running yet. I was leading.

A heartbeat thudded nearby, it was steady and strong. I slipped my dagger from my boot and circled wide, every movement deliberate. The first one stepped into my sights. A tall, armoured, cocky soldier. He didn’t even see me coming. One quick lunge, a s***h across his throat, and he dropped.

No scream, just a soft thud.

But that one kill tipped them off. I heard a growl behind me, then fast and heavy footsteps. They were closing in. Three, maybe four. They didn’t speak. Good soldiers. But I’d danced this dance before.

I darted behind a moss-covered rock and muttered an incantation under my breath. Power shimmered across my skin, bending light and shadow around me. A brief illusion but it is enough.

One of them stepped into the net trap and was yanked upward. Another howled as he stumbled into my thorns, his leg already bleeding.

I almost smiled. Almost.

Then I heard a deep, sharp howl. It sent ice through my veins.

He was here.

Rory.

I turned and ran, the trees were no longer an advantage. I needed space and I needed time. Because if Rory Rydir had stepped into this forest himself, then this wasn’t a hunt.

It was war.

And they weren’t here to kill me.

They were here to take me alive.

~

I didn’t get far.

The moment I broke into the clearing, three wolves surrounded me. They were massive, shifting mid-sprint, their snarls splitting the night air. I skidded to a stop, blade raised, heart steady. I’d been in worse odds, I could handle this.

The first wolf lunged. I spun, slashing across its flank. It yelped and dropped, writhing in the dirt. The second came from behind. I ducked low, then drove my elbow into its ribs, following with a sharp jab of my blade under its chin. Blood sprayed my cheek, warm and hot.

I didn't flinch.

The third didn’t come at me with fangs. He shifted mid-run, a tall soldier with silver hair and a scar down his jaw. I recognized him, one of Rory’s lieutenants. He raised a tranquilizer gun, not claws.

Cowards.

I dove sideways, but not fast enough. The dart skimmed my arm. I hissed as the burning liquid slipped beneath my skin. My vision blurred for a second, but I shook it off. They’d underestimated me. Everyone always did, until it was too late.

I stood, letting the storm build inside me. Power surged in my veins. I felt the ground tremble beneath my feet as the magic gathered. My fingers stretched wide, and light cracked through my skin.

“Back off,” I whispered, though they couldn’t hear the warning.

Too late, I released it.

The burst of raw energy exploded outward, knocking the wolves back like leaves in the wind. Trees snapped. Dirt tore free from the roots. A scream ripped from someone’s throat; maybe mine, maybe theirs. I didn’t care.

When the dust cleared, five were on the ground. Two weren’t moving. The rest scrambled up, staring at me with something I hadn’t seen in years.

Fear.

But before I could finish the job, something quiet shifted behind me.

I turned slowly and there he stood.

He wasn’t in wolf form, he didn’t have to be. He walked into the clearing like he owned the world, and he kind of did. His soldiers stepped back, heads bowed.

He looked at the bodies, then at me.

I gripped my blade tighter, but my arms were shaking. The dart poison was still in me. I was slowing down.

He said something to his men, I didn’t catch it. My knees buckled.

The last thing I saw was Rory’s icy blue eyes narrowing, like he’d finally found what he was looking for.

Then everything went black.

~

When I came to, I was shackled; wrists bound in cold iron that sizzled against my skin. My body felt heavy, my limbs weak, and the sharp ache in my head told me they’d drugged me again.

I didn’t open my eyes right away. I listened; the crackle of fire, low hum of voices. The air smelled like leather, smoke, and something else...something expensive. I was indoors, far from the forest, far from safety.

Then I heard footsteps. I could tell they were his because they were measured, steady and confident.

I opened my eyes.

He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, studying me like I was some wild creature he’d caught in a trap. His blond curls were damp, probably from a recent shift, and his icy blue eyes swept over me with cool detachment. I hated how calm he looked, how sure of himself. Like he already owned me.

He didn’t speak at first. He just watched me.

Then he circled. He didn’t touch me, but it felt like he did. His gaze moved from my tangled hair to the scars on my arms, down to the bloodstained edge of my tattered shirt. He was assessing me.

I wanted to spit at him but I stayed still.

He made a comment to someone else in the room, one of his Betas, maybe. Something about my “potential.” Something about how dangerous I was, how valuable I could be if “handled properly.”

I was a weapon to him, nothing more than a tool to tame and a threat to cage.

He stepped closer and looked into my eyes. “I’ll add you to my harem.”

My stomach dropped.

He didn’t wait for a response. He turned and gave the order, and the guards moved in to drag me away.

As they hauled me out of the room, I kept my chin high. I wouldn’t give Rory Rydir the satisfaction of seeing me beg or break.

~

They led me through the grand hallways of the Alpha’s mansion. There is polished stone floors, high vaulted ceilings, and thick wooden doors. I took it all in as I walked, forced to move with shackles biting into my wrists, my bare feet leaving faint smudges on the clean floor.

They pushed the heavy doors open, and I was hit with warmth, perfume, and voices. A strange mix of silk and gossip hung in the air. Beautiful women lounged on velvet cushions, dressed in delicate fabrics that barely covered anything. Their gazes flicked toward me; some curious, others amused, and a few openly hostile.

I stood out like a wound. I was bloodied, bound, and furious.

An older woman with steel-grey hair and sharp eyes stepped forward. “Hello, I am the head matron,” she gave a practiced smile, “you will be cleaned up and introduced to the others properly.”

If she found it odd that I was bleeding and shackled up with an army of guards surrounding me, she didn’t show it.

I didn’t answer, just stared.

She clapped twice, and two girls came to escort me. I was surprised the guards didn’t insist on watching me bathe.

They took me through a side door and into a private bathing chamber, warm water already drawn. They started undressing me, gently but efficiently, like I wasn’t even there. I considered swatting them off, but the guards outside reminded me I didn’t have a choice.

So I let them. This was part of my plan anyway. I could kill these maids, fight off the guards and escape. Years in exile gave me enough time to harness and master my powers, and my guilt was it’s fuel but I needed Rory to capture me. I need to be inside his walls to slay him. Let him think I’m weak and subdued.

They scrubbed my skin until it was raw. Washed my hair, and dressed me in rough cotton that scratched my body. When they were done, I barely recognized the girl in the mirror. She looked fragile.

But I knew better. She was a bomb waiting to explode.

When I was brought back out, the other women were still watching. One of them, a tall, dark-haired beauty with cruel eyes, smirked and whispered something I didn’t catch.

But I saw enough in her expression.

I wasn’t just a threat to Rory now. I was a threat to them, too.

And maybe… that’s exactly what I needed to be.