Pain.
It didn't come like a sword or a knife. It came like thunder in my bones.
I was alone in the meditation hall, breathing through one of Isolde's pulse exercises, when it hit. My vision blurred. My heart thundered. My spine pulled taut like a bowstring ready to snap.
> Now, my wolf whispered. Let me rise.
I dropped to my knees.
My nails split — not from injury, but from change. Claws broke through.
My breath caught. My back arched, and fire laced every rib.
> Do not fight me. I am you.
I gritted my teeth. "Not yet…"
But it was already happening.
---
My skin burned. Bones shifted. Not a full transformation — not yet. Just enough to tear a scream from my throat and leave me trembling on the marble floor.
A shadow passed over me.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Too fast.
Then— steel gleamed in the light.
A dagger. Poisoned. Aimed straight for my neck.
I rolled just in time.
The blade scraped stone, inches from my head.
A masked figure hissed.
I growled — not like a human, but like a wolf on the edge of fury.
The assassin lunged again.
This time, I didn't dodge.
I moved forward.
And I struck.
---
My claws sliced through cloth and skin.
The assassin screamed — or tried to — before I slammed him into the pillar with force that cracked bone.
I pinned him, eyes glowing.
> Finish it, my wolf urged.
But I didn't.
Not yet.
Cain burst through the chamber doors, sword drawn.
His eyes widened at the scene — me, part-shifted, trembling, blood dripping from my claws. The assassin gasping beneath me.
"Stand down," Cain barked.
I stepped back.
The assassin crumpled to the ground.
Guards rushed in behind Cain and dragged the bleeding man away. Lucien followed moments later, eyes burning with fury.
---
"You were alone?" he demanded.
I nodded. "I thought it was a private session."
"It was," he growled. "Someone altered the schedule."
Cain cursed under his breath. "There's a mole."
Lucien turned to me. "Are you hurt?"
I shook my head, still panting. "No… I shifted. Not fully. But it saved me."
His gaze sharpened. "You transformed?"
I nodded.
His expression changed — from fury to awe.
"Your wolf protected you," he said quietly.
"No," I said, trembling. "We protected each other."
---
That night, the entire palace changed.
Security tripled. Wards were reinforced. Isolde placed silver-thread barriers around my chamber.
And Lucien made a choice.
He called the heads of his Court, the palace guard, and every territory commander.
He stood before them, armor half-clasped, voice like thunder.
"I, Lucien Drax, King of the Blood Moon Mountains, hereby invoke the Rite of Shield."
Gasps echoed.
Cain stepped forward. "You're serious?"
Lucien looked directly at me.
"I declare Celia Nightshade my Luna Protectee — under my house, my name, and my wolfmark."
---
Silence.
Then murmurs. Shock.
It wasn't a full mating claim — not yet.
But it was close.
The Rite of Shield made me untouchable — politically and magically. To harm me would be to challenge the King directly.
But it also made me a target.
---
Later, in his war room, I confronted him.
"You didn't have to do that," I said.
"I did," he said calmly. "Because they won't stop. And because you are not a pawn. You are mine to protect."
The words hit me like wind through fire.
I stepped closer. "You keep saying that. But I'm not yours, Lucien."
He held my gaze. "Not yet."
---
Elsewhere, in a cave of shadows, a seer convulsed.
The Council gathered.
"She's begun shifting," the seer rasped. "The bond is forming. The child's power is rising."
A cold voice echoed. "Then it is time."
---
Back in the palace, I stared at my reflection.
I no longer looked like the girl who was dragged into the dungeon.
My eyes had changed.
Feral. Focused.
Free.
But something still clawed at the edge of my thoughts.
A whisper I couldn't place.
---
The next morning, I found something on my pillow.
A feather.
Black. Burned at the tip.
Lucien didn't leave it.
Cain swore no one entered the room.
But someone had.
> She is being watched, my wolf warned. By one with no scent.