The Lycan Slave Princess

Warning: This novel contains mature themes, strong language, and explicit 18+ romantic content. CRYSTALMOON PACK High on a steep hill, the Pack stood guarded by a thick stone fence and a towering iron gate. Below, an endless forest stretched for miles in every direction. Luna Seraphine stood inside a dimly lit wooden hut. Before her, an old sorcerer hovered over a stone basin of black water. He whispered an incantation, sliced his palm with a blade, and let three drops of blood fall into the liquid. The water rippled violently, glowing with a faint crimson light. Valerius froze, his milky white, sightless eyes widening. "What do you see, Valerius?" Seraphine demanded. "The threat does not lie beyond your tall gates, Luna," Valerius whispered, his voice trembling. "The one destined to tear down your throne and shatter your bloodline is already inside your walls. I am afraid I can't see more than this." Seraphine’s eyes narrowed to cold slits. She pulled her leather gloves back onto her hands. "Then I will make sure they burn before they can ignite the flame." *** Inside the palace, footsteps echoed through the long marble halls. Neriah adjusted her clothing as she approached Prince Darius’s chamber. Two guards stood rigid outside the heavy wooden door, their stern expressions fixed on her approach. She paused and knocked. A voice called from inside. "Enter." The guards shifted slightly as Neriah pushed the door open and stepped inside. Prince Darius lounged lazily in his chair, one leg draped over the armrest, his fingers lightly tapping the polished wood. Neriah bowed slightly. "My Prince." She lifted her head. "Should I serve your dinner?" Darius’s eyes flickered briefly toward her before he dismissed her with a wave. "No. Tell Freya to serve me." Neriah’s lips pressed into a tight line. "Very well, My Prince." She turned and left the chamber, her steps quickening as she returned to the busy hallway. A cluster of guards passed by, their boots striking the marble in unison. Two maids hurried the opposite way, whispering in hushed tones as they balanced heavy silver trays. Neriah kept walking until she reached the servants’ quarters. "Freya," she called out. Freya looked up immediately from her seat on the edge of the bed. Around them, several maids moved supplies while others rested before their next shift. "What is it?" Freya asked calmly. Neriah approached with a slight frown. "The prince wants you to serve his dinner." Freya’s brow furrowed. "But why? It’s your turn to serve him." "Maybe you should ask yourself why he insisted on you." Freya tilted her head, genuinely confused. "What do you mean?" Neriah scoffed softly and turned away without answering. Freya stood, left the quarters, and made her way toward the kitchen. The clatter of iron and porcelain filled the warm space as she carefully selected the tray prepared for the prince. Balancing it steadily in her hands, she stepped back into the corridor. At last, she reached Prince Darius’s chamber, stopping before the door to knock. "Enter." Freya pushed the door open and stepped inside. Prince Darius rose from his seat the moment she entered, a faint smile touching his lips as his gaze locked onto her. Freya approached the table. Darius watched her closely, closing the distance between them until his hand lifted to touch her face. Freya stepped back immediately. "With due respect, My Prince, I only came to serve your meal." A slow smirk spread across his lips. "You should be honoured, Freya." He leaned back against the table, his dark eyes roaming over the soft brown hair framing her face, her luminous skin, and finally locking onto her striking grey eyes. Freya met his gaze steadily. "I serve the pack," she replied, placing the tray on the table between them. "Honour has nothing to do with it." A low chuckle escaped his throat. "And yet… here you stand at my command." He took a step forward, his gaze intensifying. "Do you know what that means?" Freya’s expression remained unreadable. "It means I am doing my duty." Darius’s smile slowly faded. In one fluid motion, he closed the remaining space between them. "No," he murmured. "It means I can have any maid I wish… including you." His fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist. "Or perhaps… you simply don’t understand how easily a maid can lose her place." Freya lifted her head, her voice firm. "Let go of me." "And if I don’t?" Darius sneered. The heavy doors behind them creaked open as swift footsteps approached. "Darius…" Luna Seraphine stepped inside, her sharp gaze immediately locking onto their joined hands. Prince Darius glanced at his mother and slowly released his grip. Freya rubbed her wrist immediately, the heat of his pressure still lingering on her skin. Yet, Darius's eyes never left her. Freya lowered her gaze, though her heart hammered violently against her ribs. The Luna’s eyes drifted slowly from Darius to the maid. A faint, cold smile touched her lips. "What is your name?" "Freya, My Luna," she replied quickly, dropping into a deep bow. "Freya?" "Yes, My Luna." Luna Seraphine began to circle her slowly, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. "I wonder…" She stopped directly behind Freya. "…what exactly keeps drawing my son’s attention to you? Or are you trying to seduce your way up in status?" Darius exhaled sharply, visibly annoyed. "Mother." Luna Seraphine ignored him completely. "Do you know your place?" Freya flinched slightly. "Yes, My Luna." Luna tilted her head, studying her like prey. "And yet… you stand here alone in a royal chamber." Her voice dropped to a dark murmur. "That alone can prove fatal for a servant." Freya’s hands tightened into fists at her sides. "I came only to serve the meal, My Luna." Luna smiled coldly. "I see." She turned her gaze back to Darius. "You will dismiss her. Now." Darius leaned back, looking entirely unbothered. "And if I don’t, Mother?" Luna’s expression remained dangerously calm. "Then I will have her executed for attempting to seduce the Alpha heir… and you wouldn’t want that, would you?" Freya stood frozen. Darius stared at his mother for a tense moment before finally waving a dismissive hand. "Leave." Freya bowed instantly. "Thank you, My Prince." She turned and hurried out, the heavy doors closing behind her with a sharp thud. Luna’s eyes narrowed as she looked at her son. "Don’t think I am blind to how you behave with the servants. You are being watched." She turned toward the exit, pausing at the threshold. "Remember your status, Darius." Freya walked down the grand corridor, her steps light but her mind turbulent. Her thoughts replayed the encounter in the prince’s chamber—and Luna's lethal warning. By the time she reached the servants’ quarters, her composure was fraying. She stepped inside and sank slowly onto her small bed, lost in thought. The door creaked open softly. Elira entered, her eyes landing on Freya immediately. Noticing the pale distress on her friend's face, she hurried over. "Freya… are you alright?" Freya lifted her head slightly and offered a weak nod. "Yes… I’m fine, but—" The door swung open fully. Neriah stepped in, her lips curled into a spiteful smirk. She looked at Freya and let out a soft, mocking laugh. "How could she possibly be fine?" Neriah said, folding her arms. "When she’s busy trying to seduce Prince Darius." Elira’s expression hardened. "Keep your mouth shut, Neriah," she snapped. "We all know who is actually constantly chasing after the prince." Neriah rolled her eyes. "Oh, please." She turned her attention back to Freya, her smirk widening. "And before I forget… Luna Seraphine has sent for you." Freya’s heart skipped a beat, then squeezed tight. "She demands your presence in her chamber immediately." Neriah paused, letting the silence stretch between them. "Good luck." Freya slowly stood up. Outwardly, she maintained her calm but inside, her mind was thrown into total chaos.