Lucien didn't push her.
He simply stood, turned, and signaled the silver-haired warrior behind him.
"We're leaving."
Seraphina watched them, heart thudding. "Leaving? Where are you taking me?"
Lucien didn't answer right away. His voice, when it came, was low and even.
"To the pack. You'll be protected there."
"From who?"
"The Court. The High Witch. And others who'd kill you just for existing."
"I'm not going anywhere with you," she said stubbornly, her voice shaking more than she liked.
Lucien looked back at her. "Then die in the woods."
His words were brutal—but not cruel. He was offering her the truth.
Seraphina glanced around. The cold was already sinking deeper into her bones. She had no food. No shelter. No magic. Nothing. The idea of staying alone in this snowy forest was more than foolish.
It was suicide.
Still, she stood her ground. "Why would I trust you?"
Lucien took a step toward her again, closing the space between them. His expression was calm but intense.
"You don't have to trust me," he said. "But fate marked us both. That means something. Whether we want it or not."
He reached into the shadows of his long black coat and tossed her a thick cloak. "Put this on. I won't have my Luna freeze before we even reach the border."
She stared at the garment for a moment. Luna.
The word felt too big. Too heavy.
But she picked up the cloak.
Wrapped herself in it.
And silently followed him into the darkness.
---
The journey was quiet. The silver-haired man, who Lucien called "Caelum," occasionally glanced at Seraphina, his face unreadable. Lucien walked ahead, leading them down a narrow path flanked by skeletal trees and glowing frost vines.
"How far is this... pack?" Seraphina asked after nearly an hour of silent trudging.
"We're close," Lucien said without looking back. "The forest surrounding our lands is enchanted. It shifts to protect our borders."
"So we're lost?"
"No. The forest knows me."
Great, she thought. Not creepy at all.
Soon, the trees began to thin. A break in the treeline revealed a wide ridge overlooking a valley cloaked in mist. In the distance, nestled against the edge of an icy lake, rose an enormous stronghold—dark stone towers, high walls, glowing lanterns and runes pulsing across the outer gates.
The Midnight Howl Pack.
Her breath caught.
It was like something out of a forgotten legend—fierce and ancient and coldly beautiful.
Caelum broke the silence. "She'll be seen as a threat."
Lucien gave a grunt of agreement. "Let them try something."
"I mean by the Council. Not the guards."
"I'll deal with them."
Caelum looked like he wanted to argue, but wisely didn't.
Seraphina stayed quiet, soaking in everything. Every instinct screamed that she shouldn't trust these men—but she couldn't shake the sense that whatever this place was, whatever he was… it was all tied to her rebirth.
She felt it deep in her bones.
---
They passed the outer wards easily. The guards didn't even question Lucien—just bowed as they entered through towering obsidian gates. Seraphina felt dozens of eyes on her from behind helmets and shadows. Whispers passed in their wake.
"Is that her?"
"The cursed one..."
"She's just a girl."
"She doesn't look cursed..."
They reached the main hall, and Lucien finally stopped.
The castle interior was massive—stone walls etched with runes, firelight dancing in enchanted sconces, shadows cast by centuries of rule. The moment Seraphina stepped inside, the warmth hit her skin and made her knees buckle with relief.
Lucien turned to her.
"Your room is on the eastern wing. Guarded. You'll stay there for now."
"I'm not a prisoner," she snapped.
"No," he said. "You're worse. You're unpredictable."
His words stung, but she said nothing.
He nodded at Caelum, who disappeared down a corridor. Then Lucien reached into his coat again and handed her a key—a strange black metal, cold to the touch.
"This key will only work for you. If anyone else tries to enter without your permission, they'll bleed."
She blinked. "Comforting."
Lucien's mouth twitched. Almost a smile—but not quite.
He turned away.
Seraphina hesitated. She should let him leave. She should go straight to whatever room they gave her, lock the door, and stay far away from the powerful Alpha who claimed she was fated to him.
But…
"Why me?" she asked quietly. "Why now?"
Lucien stopped at the base of the staircase, his back still to her.
"I've spent five years hunting for the source of the curse that destroyed my bloodline," he said. "I thought it was a myth. But then... I felt it the night the blood moon rose. The bond woke inside me. And I knew—you were the beginning. And maybe... the end."
He looked over his shoulder, his eyes burning again with something fierce and ancient.
"You weren't reborn by accident, Seraphina. The world changed the moment you came back."
Then he was gone.
---
Her room was nothing like she expected.
It was warm, richly furnished, and smelled faintly of lavender and firewood. A thick fur blanket covered the large bed, and enchanted windows shimmered with soft light. Whoever prepared this room hadn't seen her as a prisoner.
But as a queen.
She sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at her hands. They were smooth. Pale. Young.
No burns.
No scars.
But her heart... that was still cracked wide open.
The memories of fire. The faces of betrayal. The voice that offered her revenge.
She touched the pendant around her neck—when had it gotten there?—a small black crystal shaped like a crescent moon.
It pulsed with warmth under her touch.
She didn't remember accepting any deals.
But she had said yes.
To revenge.
To power.
To rebirth.
What have I done?
She stood and approached the mirror. Her reflection stared back—familiar, yet wrong. Her eyes were sharper. Her cheekbones more defined. Her very presence felt like it hummed with restrained energy.
And in the mirror—just for a second—she saw a shadow behind her. Tall. Watching.
But when she turned around, no one was there.
---
That night, Seraphina dreamed of fire again.
But this time, it didn't consume her.
This time… she walked through it untouched.
And someone waited on the other side.
Lucien.
Eyes glowing.
Hand outstretched.
"Come back to me," he said.
"I never belonged to you," she whispered.
But her feet moved anyway.