Kill her?
For a mere slave?
Valkyrie's eyes widened in shock at the King's words. They echoed over and over again, each repetition feeling like a brutal stab to her heart.
Her pulse thundered.
Why?
But that question was shoved to the back of her mind as the King squeezed harder.
"You've been overstepping your boundaries far too often, Valkyrie, and I'm growing tired of your theatrics. You are neither Queen nor ruler here." His eyes darkened further, and Valkyrie's wolf whimpered under the intensity. "Do not overstep your bounds again."
Blood trickled down Valkyrie's lips. She was slowly losing consciousness and sanity at the same time.
Just when she thought she might die in the King's brutal hold, his hand released her, and she crumpled to the floor.
She coughed, only making her throat burn even more. With her head lowered, her vision turned red.
Her body trembled violently from the pain and pressure.
Only then did she remind herself—she was only chosen to be the King's future bride. The King harbored no feelings for her.
She felt foolish for thinking she had finally formed a bond with him today, simply because he had eaten with her, listened to her talk for almost the whole day.
But she had been wrong. Nothing had changed, despite all her efforts to please him.
Something had shifted tonight.
Arianna meant something to the King. And that terrified her.
Her lips trembled, tears falling to the floor. Tension settled in the room like a thick, heavy fog.
"Get out," the King growled.
No one needed to tell Valkyrie or the guards twice—they scurried out of the chamber.
As the door shut, Duncan still felt restless. His hand itched to slash something, to spill blood.
His Beta, Lucas, had attended the council meeting in his stead, and Duncan had simply gone to check on his warriors himself.
Then, for some reason, he decided to return to his chamber—only to hear Arianna's painful groan.
The scene had driven him to the edge, making his blood boil.
He had been hard on Arianna… He didn't want to admit it, but the image of her speaking with the new slave master had slipped into his mind when he barked at her—calling her a slave.
The hurt in her eyes had been clear when she ran out. It only fueled his anger, making his bloodlust surge.
For a moment, King Duncan had nearly lost control. He had almost torn through Valkyrie right then and there.
A breath away from ripping her head off.
It was surreal that the sight of his slave could trigger him this way.
Only his mate should make him feel like this. She had no wolf to connect to. His Lycan never called her his mate.
One thing he hated the most was curiosity and confusion.
Only then did he make up his mind. It was time to visit the Seer.
---
She ran.
Like a wounded pup.
Not to her small room, but outside. She longed for the fresh air of the night to ease the painful knot that refused to go away in her stomach.
Leave, slave. Get out!
Slave.
Why did that word hurt so much, coming from him? He had called her that before, so why did it feel like it had not only stabbed her heart but torn it apart brutally this time?
Tears filled her eyes as her feet collided with the floor, light and hurried.
Finally, she reached outside, ignoring the soldiers barking at her.
Just for a while, she needed the cold breeze on her skin.
He hadn't even listened to what she had to say. He had simply taken his betrothed's side. Her words had meant nothing to him.
The realization clenched her chest so hard she couldn't stop the tears from falling.
Valkyrie was his betrothed, while she, on the other hand, was a slave.
What had she expected? That the King would take her side?
"Hey, slave! Get away from there!" a soldier barked. She wiped her damp cheeks, her jaw clenching.
Slave.
She hated that word.
The soldier approached, his footsteps growing louder, and then his hand grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up.
"Let go of me!" she snapped, jerking her arm free from his rough grip.
The soldier glared, the moonlight casting his broad shadow over her, yet she showed no fear.
"Do you have a death wish, woman?" he sneered. "Leave, or you'll find yourself in the dungeon."
Her breath came hard, chest heaving. She knew she should lower her head and retreat—but she couldn't.
She was tired. Tired of being ordered around.
"I came out to get some air," she bit out, her head held high. "Is that a crime now?"
The soldier's eyes narrowed. "For a slave to be unsupervised at night? Yes, it is. Now leave while I'm still being nice, slave."
Arianna's fists clenched. That damned word again.
"What is going on here?"
A familiar voice cut through the tension. Sharp, calm—commanding.
Atlas.
He stepped forward, arms crossed, his gaze flickering between the soldier and Arianna.
"She was loitering out here," the soldier spoke gruffly. "Wandering alone. You know the rule—"
"I don't recall fresh air being a crime in the Citadel," Atlas said smoothly. His tone was calm yet edged with authority, making the soldier hesitate.
Arianna never thought he had such a side.
Atlas stepped closer, his voice low and slightly dangerous. "Unless you want me to report to the King about how you're treating his personal property."
Arianna bit her lip at the phrasing but said nothing.
The soldier knew better than to argue with Atlas. Casting a final glare at Arianna, he stepped back, retreating to his post.
Atlas's gaze met Arianna's, his usual calm and cheerful demeanor returning.
With a slight hint of worry in his eyes, he approached her. "Are you alright?"
Arianna nodded, bowing slightly. "Thank you, Ser Atlas."
Atlas squinted at her, his voice tinged with warmth and humor. "Liar. The tears in your eyes say otherwise. Did the soldier hurt you before I arrived?"
Arianna shook her head. "No."
Atlas sighed and extended a hand. "Come on. It's not safe for you to be out here alone. I'll walk you back."
Arianna glanced at his hand and politely declined. "That's very kind of you, Ser. But I'd like to stay out for a while."
She felt like the small space of her room would suffocate her if she went back.
She'd be alone, drowning in her thoughts. And that would be mind-wrecking.
"Alright," Atlas said, stepping closer beside her. He flashed her a small smile before gazing up at the night sky. "Then I'll stay with you."
Arianna was surprised, but then grateful.
She wasn't alone. And Atlas understood that.
She tilted her head back, gazing at the stars, feeling her nerves slowly ease as the cool breeze grazed her skin. She shut her eyes, letting it wash over her.
Meanwhile, Atlas tore his gaze from the sky and settled it on her face.
She had this calm, almost serene expression.
A perfect female.
She was beautiful.
Definitely attractive.
********
{NEXT MORNING}
Lylah's head snapped up at the aroma of a meal drawing close. A maid appeared at her cell with a tray of food.
Lylah's stomach growled in response.
The guard unlocked the gate, allowing the maid to step inside.
Even though Lylah was starving, she was surprised that the handsome Lord had actually ordered food to be brought to her.
The maid gently placed the tray before her. It was the same maid who had brought her food when she was still confined in the room. Shaking her head slightly, the maid left.
Lylah drew the meal closer and took a bite.
"I thought Mr. Handsome Lord was going to starve me to death as punishment," she mumbled with her mouth full. "I guess he's not all grumpy after all."
She took another bite, nodding as the flavors spread in her mouth. "Tasty, but not like the one at home..." Her gaze turned serious. "I'm going to execute my plan tonight. I just hope I don't end up dead before I see Aria."
She took another bite, strategizing in her head
---
Night fell, darkness engulfing the place.
In a barricade, a high-pitched scream echoed, piercing to the ears and filled with pain.
The two guards at the entrance frowned, exchanging glances.
"What the hell is wrong with her now?" the first asked.
"We're both out here. How the fuck am I supposed to know?" the second guard raised a brow.
Another scream rang out, louder this time, making both guards tense.
"Go check on her. I'll stay here," the second guard ordered. The first nodded and stepped inside, heading toward the last cell.
His eyes landed on Lylah. She was writhing, her face contorted in agony, as if something was tearing through her.
Another scream tore from her lips as she clawed at her body, pulling her hair, sobbing.
"Help... Something is wrong," she cried, her body trembling.
The guard frowned. Could she be pretending?
Another scream came—this time, she arched her back against the floor, as though possessed.
Hastily, the guard unlocked the door, stepping inside to check on her state before fetching the Beta or a healer.
"Hey, tell me what's—" He reached for her shoulder, but—
Lylah's hand shot up, gripping a fistful of sand, and she flung it into the guard's face, hitting his eyes directly.
The guard screamed, staggering back. Lylah took the opportunity to dash out of the cell.
A smirk curled on her lips—but it quickly disappeared when the second guard stood right before her.
"The fuck do you think you're doing?" he sneered, tilting his head, his eyes flashing with anger.
Lylah tensed. She had prepared for this. She was small, but she was fast.
"Get. Back. In. Your. Cell," the guard warned. The other guard, still rubbing at his eyes, was slowly regaining his composure.
Cracking her knuckles, Lylah charged forward. There was an opening on the guard's side...
The guard smirked. Fool. He moved to block the opening—only to realize too late that she had tricked him.
Lylah's feet slammed the nearby cell bar, launching herself to the opposite side of the guard and darting toward the real opening he had just left exposed.
Maybe she had underestimated his speed, because his hand shot out, nearly grabbing her.
So close—too close.
She barely managed to dodge, but his fingers caught the tip of her bun.
Shit. She couldn't get caught!
Her eyes flicked to the dagger at his waist.
Without hesitation, she grabbed it and swiftly sliced off the end of her hair.
The sudden loss of resistance made the guard stumble back, clutching at nothing but a severed lock of hair.
Lylah wasted no time. She drove her knee straight into his groin.
A choked grunt escaped his lips as he doubled over, giving her just enough time to bolt.
"Get over here!" the guard roared behind her.
The pursuit began. The sound of boots pounding against stone filled the air.
Lylah's eyes locked onto the iron gate ahead—the way out of the dungeon.
But a guard stood in front of it. His head snapped toward the commotion.
"Stop her!" the guard behind her yelled.
The one at the gate lunged forward.
Shit. Think, Lylah...
She raised the stolen dagger, pretending she was about to throw it.
The guard flinched. That hesitation was all she needed.
Smirking, she dove forward, slipping between his opened legs.
The guard looked down in confusion—just as the two chasing her collided into him. All three crashed to the ground.
Lylah let out a small chuckle at the sight. Lucky for her, the key was still in the lock.
Twisting it, she pushed the door open, dashed out, and slammed it shut behind her.
She exhaled hard. That was close.
Turning, her eyes widened. More guards. Five of them.
She quickly ducked into the shadows before they could see her.
Shit.
The guards inside the dungeon began banging on the door, drawing the attention of the ones outside.
"Hey, is everything okay?" one of them asked as they all approached.
"Don't tell me they foolishly locked themselves in," another scoffed.
Their distraction gave Lylah a chance. She began sneaking away, her steps light and backwards.
She had almost made it past them when—
"Who the hell are you?" one of the guards snapped.
Lylah's expression shifted instantly. She turned to him with a worried face, pretending to head in his direction.
"I'm a new maid," she stammered. "A-and I got lost."
The guard sneered. "Filthy one, get out!"
Lylah didn't hesitate. She dashed away, vanishing into the night.
Now outside, Lylah wiped off her sweat. "That was pretty close."
Lylah hadn't realized how huge the place was, swarming with guards and maids.
As she walked, some cast her a fleeting glance, holding their noses as she passed by. Only then did Lylah realize how dirty her attire was.
She reeked, and her body longed for a warm bath. But then a whisper caught her ear.
"The Beta is about to spar with a maid."
The handsome Lord sparring with a maid? Lylah frowned, and as they left, she quickly followed.
They got to the Military sector, not far from the place. Several people had gathered to watch the fight on the open ground.
Lucas had just hit Brigid, sending her flying several feet; a sickening crack of her bone echoed in the air. Gasps filled the crowd.
"Why won't she just give up? Lord Lucas might kill her."
Lylah blinked and mumbled, "He hits women; he's definitely not a gentleman… hmp." She shrugged and folded her arms. "I don't like gentlemen anyway; they are practically boring."
The girl nearby gave her a fleeting look, disgusted, before returning her gaze to the show. She spoke again, "She must be desperate to win. If she manages to strike the Lord just once, he'll grant her wish of joining the warriors."
Lylah's eyes widened. That's insane. Her gaze flicked back to the spar.
The young maid was bleeding all over, her face swollen, with cuts all over. This girl might die if she keeps pushing.
"He is so cold," a voice murmured, tension filling the air.
"Yield?" Lucas called, approaching Brigid, pointing his small dagger at her.
She spat out blood and rasped, "Yield."
"Oh dear, she is giving up," a voice whispered, while they watched worriedly.
"The rule remains the same. If I catch you again, I will spar with you, and I'll go rougher than now."
Lucas spun, ready to leave, but someone emerged from the crowd, stepping out. Her hands were locked behind her as she approached the Grand Lord.
Eyes widened; Lucas wasn't left alone. For the first time in so many years… something actually shocked him.
It was none other than this little wolf.
Lylah.
"Evening, My Lord," she greeted, clearing her throat. "Does this deal apply to anyone?"
Lucas, knowing what she was about to do, furrowed his brows. "Go on."
Lylah swallowed; she was terrified, but she didn't let it show. After all, she had no other way.
"I'll spar with you, My Lord," she said. Gasps rippled through the air. Many called her crazy. "One strike from me, and I'll win. You'll let me off the hook and allow me to meet my sister. If I'm to serve the Citadel, then I'll join the warriors. However, if you win… then,"
She took a deep breath, "I'll face your punishment right here… Deal?"
She is insane!
Totally crazy!
Who the hell is she?!
Does she have a death wish or something?!
The Lord stared at her for what felt like an eternity; soon, a dangerous smirk formed on his chiseled lips.
Tilting his head, he gave the order…
"Pick up your weapon, little wolf… it's gonna be a long night."
༆𝑻𝑩𝑪༆