Marigold's POV
The cold had a personality in that dungeon. It wasn't just a lack of warmth; it was a living, breathing entity that seeped into my bones, wrapped around my lungs, and solidified my fear
When I finally dared to open my eyes, after what felt like an eternity but was likely just a few hours, the blackness was absolute, so thick I could almost taste it
It pressed in, suffocating, a mirror to the despair that had settled deep in my chest
You are mine now. His voice, that low, dangerous rumble, echoed in the hollow space of my mind, a chilling brand on my soul
My body ached, every joint protesting the brutal stone floor
My throat felt like sandpaper, raw from unshed screams and the desperate pleas that had died unspoken
Hunger gnawed, a dull, persistent ache in my belly, but it was overshadowed by the thirst that scraped at my throat, turning every swallow into a painful rasp
I tried to shift, to find a more comfortable position, but every movement sent fresh tremors through my exhausted muscles
I was a puppet with snapped strings, abandoned in the dark
The terror, though, was the worst. It clung to me, a cold, clammy shroud
What did "serve" mean? My mind, in its frantic search for answers, conjured images of the palace servants I'd glimpsed – faces worn with labor, eyes dull with endless tasks.l
Was that my fate?
To scrub floors, haul water, live as a nameless drone under his cruel, watchful eye?
Or was it something far more sinister?
My imagination, fueled by fear, spun darker possibilities: a prison until I wasted away, a living display of his power, or perhaps… perhaps a different kind of service entirely, one that made my stomach churn with a sickening dread
My gaze, useless in the dark, kept returning to my hand. The healing. It was complete
The skin was smooth, unblemished, as if Grace's heel had never torn through it
The utter strangeness of it pricked at my skin, raising goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold. It wasn't just my hand; it was his hand too
The shared pain. The shared healing
How could this be? I was Marigold Calixta, a human girl from a dusty, forgotten corner of this village
My blood was warm, ordinary. There was no magic in me, no ancient lineage, no hidden power
Yet, here I was, irrevocably tied to a creature of myth and raw, untamed force. It was monstrous. It was unfair
A new sensation flickered, a subtle unease that wasn't my own.
It felt like a distant thrum, a tense energy far beyond the dungeon walls
Was it him? Was I feeling his emotions? The thought sent a fresh wave of panic through me
To be so exposed, so vulnerable to another's state of mind, especially his—the man who held my life, my father's fate, in his hands
It was a terrifying new layer to my captivity. I pressed my palms against my temples, as if I could physically block the intrusion, but it lingered, a low, unsettling hum beneath my own fear
Hours crawled by, marked only by the shifting shadows under the door
I tried to focus on my father, on his gentle smile, on the smell of his pipe tobacco and old books
It was the only way to cling to sanity, to remember why I fought to breathe in this suffocating darkness
Emily. The resentment hardened. She'd always been so mysterious, so knowing, with her quiet pronouncements.
Had she truly known what she was sending me into? Had this "fate" always been my sentence?
The thought was a bitter taste in my mouth, replacing the metallic tang of the water
Finally, the click of the bolt startled me. Not a single guard this time, but two
Large, stern-faced men, their eyes cold and impassive. One carried a lantern, the other a heavy chain
My heart hammered against my ribs, a desperate drum against the silence. This was it
"On your feet, human" one grunted, his voice gruff, his hand already on the heavy iron ring of the dooor
"The Alpha has commanded you to work"
My legs felt like lead, protesting as I pushed myself upright
Every muscle screamed, but I forced myself to stand tall, my chin trembling but held high
I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing me utterly broken. Not yet
Not while my father's fading image still clung to the edges of my vision
Gerald's POV
The morning after my visit to the dungeon was a whirlwind, as all my mornings were
Pack business, trade agreements, skirmishes on the borders – the duties of an Alpha never truly ceased
I sat at the head of the polished oak table, my Beta, Ronan, detailing the harvest projections, his voice a steady drone
My Gamma, Lyra, spoke of patrol routes and minor rogue incursions
My mind, usually a steel trap for these details, felt… fragmented. A part of me listened, processed, issued commands
Another part of me, the primal, restless part, kept circling back to the dark dungeon, to the small, trembling human I had claimed.
Rhys, my wolf, was agitated.
He usually settled after a confrontation, after dominance was asserted
But now, he was a restless current beneath my skin, a constant thrumming
He didn't howl with raw possessiveness as before, but a low, almost mournful whine sometimes escaped the confines of my mind. He felt her
He felt her despair, her confusion, a faint, alien ripple in our shared consciousness. It was unsettling
It was infuriating. I pushed him back, forcing my attention to Ronan's droning.
This bond was a curse, a weakness I had to master
"Alpha?" Ronan's voice cut through my thoughts, a slight frown on his face
"Did you hear the projection for the eastern timber?"
"I did" I stated, my voice sharp, instantly snapping back into control
"It's acceptable. Increase patrols on the eastern border by a third. I want no surprises"
My command was sharper than necessary, and Ronan's eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly, but he simply nodded.
Surprises
The word echoed in my mind, linking back to Emily's warning. Beware the phantom limb.
My half-brother. I felt a cold knot tighten in my gut. He was a master of the subtle strike, the unseen blade
I dismissed my advisors with a curt nod; the moment they were gone, I stood, walking to the large window overlooking the bustling courtyard
My eyes scanned the faces below, looking for anything out of place
Every shadow seemed to hold a secret, every whispered conversation a potential conspiracy
I needed to move. My brother, Julian, wouldn't waste time.
His hatred for me was a festering wound, meticulously tended for years
Our mother, his true orchestrator, was even more cunning
She had always despised my father's family, the Wolfbloods, seeing them as savage beasts who had stolen her from her true heritage, tying her to a pack she scorned.
Julian was her favored son, the one who embraced the hidden power, the one she would use to reclaim her perceived birthright
My hand went to my jaw, a rough rub against the stubble. The human. Marigold
The Goddess claimed she was my mate, and the evidence was unsettlingly clear. If Julian knew, if he sensed this peculiar bond, he would exploit it
He would use her, or try to, to get to me. My vulnerability was now tied to a common, frightened girl. It was unacceptable
I called for Elias, my most trusted scout leader
"I want eyes on the borders, Elias," I stated, turning from the window, my voice low and urgent
"Especially the old vampire territories to the north, and the eastern forests beyond the logging road. And I want to know who is moving in and out of the forgotten villages, the ones that rarely pay tribute. Anyone new. Anyone suspicious. Report directly to me"
Elias's face remained impassive, but his eyes held a keen understanding
"It will be done, Alpha"
As he left, I turned back to the window, my gaze now distant
The village, my pack, my entire world… it felt suddenly vulnerable, exposed. And in the heart of that vulnerability was a fragile human girl, a thief, who now carried the weight of a mate bond with an Alpha
She was not a prize. She was a liability. And I had to turn that liability into an asset, before my enemies did
My mind shifted to the "service" I'd mentioned
Not just scrubbing floors. Something that would break her spirit, yes, but also keep her close, under my direct observation.
A thought formed, cold and sharp. The training grounds. She could be the village's pet
The one who cleans the discarded equipment, mends the worn training dummies, a constant, public reminder of my power
And more importantly, a constant, visible tether that my brother would see. He would know I was aware
He would know I had turned his potential weapon into my leash. A bitter pill for him to swallow. I would send for her immediately
Let her first day of "service" begin.
Julian's POV
The twilight hour bled across the western sky, painting the distant peaks in bruised purples and blood oranges
A cold wind, sharp with the scent of pine and damp earth, whipped at my cloak, a fitting companion to the chill that settled in my heart
Below, in the valley, lay Bert Village, a cluster of lights now dimming, preparing for a night it wouldn't soon forget
"Alpha Julian" The voice belonged to Kael, my most loyal lieutenant, a vampire whose pale eyes gleamed with fanaticism
He stood at my side on the rocky outcrop overlooking the village, a dozen of my elite vanguard behind him, silent, lethal shadows against the fading light
"The diversionary unit is in position by the logging road. They await your signal"
A cruel smile touched my lips, baring the tips of my elongated fangs
"Excellent" My gaze swept over the village. Gerald's pack, complacent in their supposed security
They'd become soft, fat on peace and his predictable leadership. They thought themselves safe. Fools. Safety was an illusion, a luxury for the weak
"My brother" I murmured, almost to myself, but Kael caught it
"He will be distracted. He has found himself a new toy, a human mate. Such a pathetic weakness, wouldn't you agree?"
My spies had reported the astonishing news, and it was a gift
A perfect fissure in Gerald's impenetrable control
A mate bond, with a human? It was grotesque. It was also an opportunity I intended to exploit
He would be divided, his attention split between his fragile new claim and the crumbling of his dominion
I lifted a hand, a silent command. Kael nodded, his movements fluid as he raised a signaling flare
A hiss, then a brilliant crimson streak arced into the darkening sky, bursting silently above the northern forest
Almost immediately, a faint, muffled clamor drifted from the direction of the logging road – distant shouts, the dull thud of bodies hitting earth, the snarls of newly awakened wolves
The diversion. Designed to draw Gerald's primary forces, to pull his attention like a stretched rubber band
It would occupy his guards, scatter his patrols, create the perfect opening for our true objective
"Now" I breathed, my eyes, a feral, glowing red in the deepening gloom, fixed on the palace, a beacon of arrogance in the heart of the village
"The heart of the beast"
"Advance!" Kael barked, his voice carrying surprising force
My vanguard moved. They weren't wolves, tearing through the forest with brute force. We were shadows, fluid and silent
We swept down the slope, through the ancient, overgrown paths that only I still knew, paths forgotten by Gerald's complacent pack
The scent of pine and damp earth filled my nostrils, overlaid with the rich, intoxicating scent of unwary villagers
The first line of defense was the outer wall, more a symbolic boundary than a true barrier. A few drowsy guards, easily dispatched
A quick, brutal efficiency that left no time for cries of alarm. Their bodies crumpled, silent offerings to the night
We entered the village like a whisper. The main street was still, a few late-night revelers staggering home from the tavern.
They paused, sensing something, their wolf instincts stirring too late
A blur of movement, a flash of fangs, and they dropped, their lives spilling onto the cobblestones without a sound
No alarms. No howls. Perfection.
Our target was the palace
Not to simply raid it, but to claim it. To make Gerald's downfall utterly public, undeniably complete
We moved through the back alleys, a silent tide of dark cloaks and gleaming eyes
The sounds of the diversionary attack grew louder now, a frantic symphony of chaos from the north, confirming that Gerald's attention was fully engaged
Reaching the palace grounds, we encountered a few more guards, drawn towards the northern commotion
They fought with predictable wolfish ferocity, but their numbers were few, their focus split. My vanguard dispatched them swiftly, without fanfare
The ground around the palace began to smell faintly of fresh blood
I stood before the main doors of the palace, the grand, imposing structure that Gerald believed to be his impenetrable fortress
A smug smile touched my lips
"Gerald" I whispered, my voice carrying on the wind, a private message meant only for him, wherever he might be
"your reign ends tonight. The true king has returned"
With a nod to Kael, a silent command ripped through the stillness
My vanguard launched themselves at the palace doors, not with stealth now, but with raw, focused power
Wood splintered, hinges screamed, and the sounds of chaos finally erupted from the very heart of Bert Village
The true attack had begun. The chaos would draw Gerald out
And when he emerged, he would face not just an enemy, but a ghost