CLAIMED BY THE LYCAN KING

ICE RING

KAIRA

You worthless, wretched girl!" he roared. Before I could even draw a breath to apologize, his hand shot out, fingers clamping around my upper arm with a grip that threatened to bruise the bone.

He jerked me forward, pulling me violently toward him.

"Do you have any idea what you've done tonight? Do you have the slightest inkling of the chaos you've unleashed?"

I lifted my head slowly, my voice a mere whisper. "I don't—I didn't mean to—"

SMACK!

The slap landed with a sickening sound, snapping my head to the side. Stars exploded across my vision, white and blinding.

The force of the blow sent me reeling, my balance gone. "Don't you dare lie to me!" he screamed, his voice cracking with a manic edge. "Do not stand there and play the innocent when you are the very definition of a blight!"

"I wasn't lying," I whimpered, my voice trembling. "I just—"

"A wolfless mutt has no business attracting attention!" he spat, the words hitting me harder than the physical strike.

The room seemed to shrink around me. Wolfless. The word was a brand, seared into my soul since the day I failed to shift.

In a lineage of predators, I was prey. I was the glitch in the bloodline, the void where strength should have been.

Father released me with a sudden, violent shove. I stumbled, my shoulder slamming into the edge of a heavy mahogany table.

"You ruined everything once already," he hissed, his voice dropping to a low, trembling vibration of old resentment.

"Every single thing I lost—my rank, my respect, my future—it was all because of you." The silence that followed was suffocating.

I looked up at him, my eyes watering. "Father, I wasn't even born yet. How could I—" "Your very existence is the reminder!" he bellowed, stepping into my space.

"You are the living proof of my failure! You are the stain that won't wash out!"

Beside him, my stepmother shifted.

She didn't move to stop him.

Instead, she folded her arms across her chest, her beautiful, sculpted face twisting into an expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.

"I warned you, Alaric," she said, her voice like a shard of ice. "I told you that letting her roam the halls would eventually lead to this. She is a liability."

Her gaze swept over me, lingering on my trembling frame with a clinical sort of hatred.

"She's exactly like her mother. A seductive disaster who destroys everything she touches."

Something inside me snapped. It wasn't strength—I had none of that—but it was a spark of desperation. I clenched my fists, my head still lowered, my hair shielding my face.

"My mother has nothing to do with this," I whispered, the words shaking but certain. "Leave her out of your hate."

The third strike came so fast I didn't even see it. The blow caught me square across the mouth.

My head whipped back, and I felt the sickening pop of my lip splitting against my teeth. The metallic, salty taste of blood flooded my tongue instantly.

My knees gave out. I hit the polished floor with a heavy thud that echoed through the cavernous room.

I stayed there, collapsed in a heap, my head hanging low as a single drop of crimson splashed onto the white marble floor.

For a long moment, the only sound was Father’s heavy, ragged breathing.

"Father!"

Ava rushed forward, her voice shaking with genuine terror. She threw herself down beside me, her silk skirts billowing around us. "Please stop! Please, just stop it!"

She reached out, her hand hovering over my shoulder, afraid to touch me. "Kaira? Kaira, look at me. Are you okay?"

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I just stared at the blood on the floor, watching it spread like a small, dark map of my own failure.

A sharp, cold laugh escaped my stepmother. It was a sound devoid of any warmth, sharp enough to cut.

"Look at her, Ava," she sneered. "Look at the pathetic creature on the floor. This is where she belongs."

Ava looked up, her eyes flashing. "Mother, that's enough! She's bleeding!"

"Exactly," the woman replied, her eyes narrowing. "She's bleeding on the floors. She's embarrassing this family for the last time. She is a parasite, draining the dignity of this house with every breath she takes."

I coughed, a spray of blood splattering across the marble.

The sight of it seemed to trigger something in my stepmother. Her face contorted in a grimace of visceral revulsion, as if I were a leaking bag of trash.

"Get her out of my sight," she commanded. "Now."

The room fell into a heavy, oppressive silence. Father looked down at me. I waited for a flicker of regret, a hint of paternal instinct, even a shred of anger.

But there was nothing. Just a cold, hollow contempt.

"Leave," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Leave before I throw you out into the street myself."

Slowly, agonizingly, I pushed myself upright. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest. My jaw throbbed, and my vision was blurred by tears I refused to let fall in front of them.

Nobody helped me. Ava reached out, but a sharp look from her mother made her freeze.

I wiped the blood from my mouth with the back of my hand, the copper taste lingering. I reached down and picked up my fallen cloak, wrapping it around myself like a shroud.

Without a word, I turned and walked out of the room, leaving a trail of small, red droplets behind me.

I clicked my room door shut, sealing myself into the suffocating silence of my own room.

I didn't move or rather, i couldn't. i simply stood there, lungs straining for air that felt like shards of glass in my chest. Every inhale was a battle; every exhale a surrender.

Slowly, I crossed the room. My fingers were locked in a white-knuckled grip around the cloak.

I hadn't even realized I was still holding it, as if the fabric were the only thing keeping me from shattering into a thousand pieces on the floor.

Moonlight bled through the window, casting skeletal silver patterns across the floorboards. I looked around, and a wave of nausea hit her.

A jagged, humorless laugh escaped my lips, ending in a wince. I collapsed onto the edge of the bed, and the impact sent a lightning bolt of agony through my abdomen. I curled inward, clutching my stomach.

My gaze drifted to the cloak. Dark. Who are you? The stranger’s face flashed in my mind—those impossible ice-blue eyes.

A soft knock rattled the door. I stiffened, my entire body bracing for another blow. "Kaira?"

Ava.

I closed my eyes, pressing my forehead against my knees. Please. Just go away.

"I'm sorry," Ava’s voice drifted through the wood, fragile and laced with a guilt. "I really did try to stop him."

"I'm tired, Ava," I whispered, my voice sounding like crushed gravel. A heavy silence followed. Then, a soft, defeated sigh.

"I'll bring medicine later."

I listened to the footsteps retreat, the sound fading until the silence returned, heavier than before. I forced herself up and drifted toward the mirror.

The girl staring back at me was nothing new. A swollen cheek, a split lip, and purple blooms of bruises beginning to stain my skin.

I wiped the blood from my mouth, staring into my own eyes. I turned to crawl into bed, but as I did, a sudden, piercing chill sliced through the warmth of the room.

It was a presence.

I froze. A sharp, crystalline cold began to coil around my ring finger. I gasped, pulling my hand back, but the sensation followed me, clinging to my skin with an unnatural, magnetic pull.

I watched, breathless, as tiny shards of frost materialized out of thin air. They didn't melt; they grew.

They wove themselves together with surgical precision, spinning silver threads of ice that hardened into a perfect, shimmering band. It was as clear as a diamond.

A ring.