A cold, damp scent pulled me back to reality. My head pounded, my limbs aching as I tried to shift.
Something held me down.
I wasn't lying on the forest floor anymore.
The air was heavy, thick with the smell of mildew and rusted iron. My skin prickled against the chill in the air.
I wasn't outside.
I opened my eyes.
Darkness.
The dim glow of torches flickered in the distance, casting long shadows across stone walls and iron bars.
A cell.
Chains dug into my wrists and ankles, their cold bite sending a wave of nausea through me. My head throbbed, the wound at my side stinging with every breath.
Where was I?
Footsteps.
Slow. Measured. Powerful.
A deep voice echoed from beyond the bars, cold and commanding.
"Bring her to me."
The clanking of metal echoed around me as rough hands latched onto my chains and yanked me forward. My knees buckled, my body protesting the sudden movement, but they didn't care.
They dragged me.
My bare feet scraped against the stone floor, my skin raw from the harsh grip of the iron shackles. Every movement sent a fresh wave of pain through my ribs, through the gash on my side. Blood trailed behind me.
I tried to pull away, to dig my heels into the ground, but I was too weak. My body felt like lead, my limbs screaming with exhaustion. The beating in the forest, the cold of the cell, and the poison of my father's arrow had stripped me of all my strength.
Still, I wasn't going to make it easy for them.
With a deep breath, I twisted my body, jerking my shoulders back hard enough that the guard's grip loosened. I took the moment to stumble forward, desperate to escape. My breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as I sprinted toward the nearest corridor.
I didn't get far.
A thick arm slammed into my stomach, knocking the air out of me. Pain exploded through my ribs as I crashed to the ground, coughing violently.
A chuckle rippled through the guards. "She still thinks she has a chance."
"Let her run," another sneered. "She won't make it past the gate."
Rough hands fisted my hair, yanking my head back. I clenched my teeth, refusing to make a sound.
I wouldn't let them see me break.
They hauled me upright again, this time gripping the chains around my wrists so tightly that the metal dug into my skin, biting deep enough to draw blood.
The hallways blurred past me, torchlight flickering against cold stone walls. The scent of damp air mixed with the iron tang of blood—mine, theirs, others who had been here before me.
Whispers followed us.
"She smells."
"Who is that?"
I wanted to snap back, but my throat burned, my strength slipping further with every dragging step.
We turned a sharp corner. The corridor widened into a grand hall lined with towering pillars. The guards jerked me forward, my bare feet barely keeping up as I stumbled.
Then they threw me.
The moment my body hit the stone floor, pain shot through my side, the impact forcing a cry from my lips before I could stop it.
The guards laughed.
I tried to push myself up, my arms trembling beneath me. But before I could lift myself, a heavy boot pressed down on my back, shoving me against the floor once more.
"Stay down," a voice growled.
I gritted my teeth, rage simmering beneath the surface.
I could taste blood in my mouth, feel it trickling down my chin. My body screamed for rest, for relief, but my mind refused to give in.
I wasn't done yet.
A rough hand fisted my hair, yanking my head up. Pain flared down my spine, but I refused to cry out. The guard holding me snorted in amusement, his fingers tightening painfully against my scalp.
"Still got fight in you, huh?" he sneered, his grip jerking me forward. "Let's see how long that lasts."
I stumbled, my knees scraping against the cold stone floor. The chains dragged heavily, rattling with every forced step.
The grand doors loomed ahead.
They were massive, carved from dark oak, adorned with symbols I didn't recognize. They screamed power. Authority. Finality.
Two guards pushed the doors open, revealing a room so vast it seemed endless. Torches lined the towering walls, casting flickering golden light across the polished floors. The scent of burning wood and something faintly metallic filled the air.
And at the center—a throne.
It wasn't elegant. It wasn't adorned with gold or jewels like my father's. It was carved from black stone, jagged and unforgiving, its presence dominating the space.
And seated upon it was him.
Alpha Minerva.
Even from a distance, his presence struck like a blade to the chest.
He sat with an air of authority that couldn't be ignored, his posture relaxed yet commanding. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd been deep in thought before I was dragged in. Sharp features, a strong jaw, piercing eyes—he looked like he was forged in war, like he belonged on that throne.
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
But his gaze locked onto me, and for a single moment, the world around me ceased to exist.
The guards shoved me forward onto my knees.
The impact jolted through my body, but I refused to flinch. I lifted my chin, staring straight at him, daring him to look away first.
The silence stretched.
A thick, suffocating silence, weighing heavily over the entire room.
The guards shifted, uneasy, as if they too felt the air shift around us.
Minerva's gaze was unreadable. Cold. Calculating. Searching.
Then—something changed.
A flicker of something undeniable passed between us.
Something primal. Something inescapable.
My breath caught.
No. No, this can't be happening.
His grip on the armrest tightened slightly, but his expression remained impassive.
He felt it too.
A mate bond.
The realization sent shockwaves through my body.
I expected rage. I expected denial.
But all I could do was stare into the eyes of the man who, by all means, should have been my enemy.