CHAPTER SIX
1144 Words
Amara’s POV
The Witchlands do not believe in safety.
They believe in preparation.
That’s what I tell myself as I step past the boundary stones at dawn, the air changing the instant my boots cross the threshold. My cloak is pulled tight around my shoulders. The silver crescent scar on my palm is warm again, faintly pulsing beneath my skin.
The witches told me not to go alone yet. “Your control lags behind your power,” one of them had warned, fingers tightening around her staff. “The world will feel it before you do.”
I’d smiled and nodded and waited until morning. Deciding even in that moment that I would not be kept here training without any real situation experience, it is not what I want. I am now on a journey of discovery. I wanted to explore, take risks and build a life that is completely the opposite of my formal life. The Moon goddess has laid a perfect way for me. She gave me this power that I do not fully comprehend yet, but power without movement is just another cage. So I move.
The forest beyond the Witchlands feels wrong almost immediately after I crossed the invisible threshold. The air thins, it instantly became sharp and metallic, like the world has been scraped raw here. The trees grow farther apart, their branches bent inward as if listening.
My wolf paces beneath my skin.
We’re being watched.
“I know, but by whom?” I murmur.
I don’t slow down. Immediately I took the next step I realised I shouldn’t have.
That’s my first mistake.
The snare snaps tight around my ankle with a vicious jerk. I don’t even have time to curse before I’m yanked off my feet. The ground slams into my ribs, knocking the breath from my lungs.
“Now,” someone says. “Look what we have here.”
Hands grab me.
Iron clamps around my wrists. It feels so cold but is burning me at the same time. Wrong.
The magic inside me recoils violently, slamming into the edges of my bones like a trapped beast.
“No...” I gasped, trying to summon the Silver Flame.
Nothing answers. This was what the witches said: I don’t know how to summon my power. I don’t know if there’s something I need to say. I know for a fact that I currently feel helpless. Wait…
Anti-magic shackles, is it rogue-crafted?
Panic claws up my throat.
Figures emerge from the trees, four of them, lean and sharp-eyed, their scents a foul mix of wolf and something corrupted. Their smiles are thin, humourless.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” one says, crouching in front of me. His eyes flicker faintly as he looks at my skin. “She really does glow.”
I snarl and try to kick him.
He laughs and cracks me across the jaw.
Stars burst behind my eyes.
“Careful,” another says lazily. “Alpha wants her intact.”
My wolf slams against the inside of my skull, snarling, furious.
This is wrong. This is wrong.
A blow lands at the back of my head, the forest tilts and darkness takes me.
---
After what seemed like an eternity, I woke to motion.
My body is slung over a horse, stomach pressed against the saddle, wrists bound painfully in front of me. Every jolt sends a spike of pain through my skull. The shackles hum faintly, like insects feeding.
I turned slightly to study the environment, but I could only see the path where the horses were walking. Whatever the case, I would definitely run away. I closed my eyes again and listened.
“Is she worth it?” someone asks.
A snort, “she is worth triple. Did you feel that power when she flared? Damn near rattled my teeth.”
“Alpha Elior is gonna be pleased.”
The name slices through me.
Alpha Elior.
Alpha Elior is a dangerous man, widely known as a collector and tyrant; his name was spoken only in warnings.
My breath stays shallow as the road stretches on, the forest giving way to dirt path, dirt to stone. When we eventually stop, night has fallen.
Iron gates loom ahead, etched with sigils meant to dominate, not protect.
Hands haul me off the horse.
“On your feet,” someone snaps.
I stumble but don’t fall.
Inside the compound, the air reeks of fear.
A woman passes me with her eyes lowered, a metal collar locked around her throat. Another flinches when a guard brushes too close. My chest tightens.
Not again.
Not another cage.
They shove me into a cell reinforced with runes and slam the door shut.
Silence rushes in.
I slide down the wall slowly, wrists aching, breath finally shaking loose.
Remember who you are, my wolf whispers.
“I am,” I murmur back.
And I will survive this too.
Alpha Elior does not keep me waiting.
At dawn, the guards return, hauling me down torch-lit corridors into a grand hall carved from black stone. He stands at its centre, tall and broad-shouldered, eyes the colour of old gold.
His eyes were assessing and measuring like property.
“So,” he says mildly. “This is the exiled Luna.”
I lift my chin despite the chains biting into my wrists. “Not anymore.”
Something like amusement flickers across his face.
“All the best prizes say that.”
He circles me slowly, boots echoing against stone. His gaze scrapes across my skin, not lustful but possessive.
“The rogues tell me you flared when they caught you,” he continues. “Silver magic. Rare.”
“I’m not for sale.”
He laughs softly. “Everything is for sale.”
He stops in front of me, lowering his voice. “Your former Alpha is tearing the south apart looking for you.”
My breath stutters before I can stop it.
Kael.
I force my expression blank.
“Let him,” I say.
Elior’s smile widens.
“Oh, I intend to.”
He gestures, and a guard steps forward holding a collar, obsidian black, etched with dominance runes.
My wolf explodes inside me.
Do not let him put that on you.
I straighten, chains clinking. “Touch me with that, and you will regret it.”
For the first time, something sharp glints in Elior’s eyes.
“Good,” he says quietly. “Fire still burns.”
He waves the guards away. “Chain her in the lower wing. I want her intact.”
As they drag me off, the mate bond stirs faintly.
It isn’t comfort or collision, I feel him.
Kael is close.
And when he finds me like this, collared, caged, claimed by another Alpha’s territory, everything will break.
But this time, it will not be me.
- Writer
