Aria didn't remember falling asleep.
She only remembered heat.
A strong chest beneath her cheek.
The steady, predatory rhythm of a heartbeat.
Warm fingers curled around her thighs, keeping her from slipping.
The deep scent of pine, rain, and something wild swirling around her until her body grew heavy and numb.
When she opened her eyes, dawn was breaking.
Fog drifted across a vast bridge of black stone, leading to an enormous fortress rising between jagged mountains. Towers speared upward like claws. Banners bearing the Blackthorn crest, a wolf encircled by a silver flame, rippled in the cold wind.
Aria's stomach twisted.
This wasn't a home.
This was a kingdom built for war.
And she was being taken straight into it.
Kairo walked without slowing, his grip tight on her body, as if she were a precious possession he refused to set down. His breath hit the side of her neck every time he exhaled, sending shivers down her spine.
Aria forced herself to speak.
"Put me down."
He didn't.
"Put. Me. Down."
Finally, he glanced at her.
His golden eyes were even more intense in the pale morning light. Sharp. Focused. Hungry.
"You are freezing," he said. "You'll walk when you can stand without trembling."
"I'm not—"
She tried to push against his chest, but her muscles ached, her legs wobbling uselessly.
His arms didn't move.
At all.
"Prove it," he murmured.
She stopped struggling.
His smirk was barely visible but unmistakable.
The massive gates opened before them with a groan, revealing a courtyard filled with warriors, tall, muscled werewolves in black armor who immediately dropped to their knees.
Aria tensed.
Kairo didn't kneel.
Kairo didn't bow.
Kairo didn't speak.
He simply walked through them, carrying her like she weighed nothing.
The warriors' confused, curious, hostileeyes followed her.
Whispers rose.
"Is that—?"
"The promised bride?"
"She looks human…"
"She won't last a week."
"Maybe he'll kill her himself."
Aria's throat tightened.
Kairo's jaw flexed.
Without warning, he stopped walking, his voice slicing the air like a blade.
"Anyone who speaks about her again," he said quietly, "will lose their tongue."
Silence fell instantly.
Heat rushed to Aria's face.
He didn't look at her, but his grip tightened possessively around her waist.
As they entered the inner halls, she finally whispered, "Why would you say that?"
"Because your safety is my responsibility," he replied.
"That wasn't protection," she snapped. "That was a threat."
He stopped again, this time in the middle of a long corridor lined with torches.
Slowly, he lowered her onto her feet.
Her legs almost buckled.
Kairo's fingers curled around her chin, guiding her gaze up to his. His touch was gentle. His expression was not.
"Aria," he said, voice low, "if you are mine, then they will respect you. Fear you. Or die learning to."
Her breath hitched.
Her pulse pounded.
His closeness made her brain fog, not sexually, but with something dangerous. Something magnetic.
She stepped back, throat tight.
"I'm not yours."
His eyes darkened, not with anger… with hunger.
"You will be."
Before she could answer, footsteps echoed behind them.
A woman appeared at the end of the hall, tall, stunning, with silver-blonde hair and sharp, green eyes. Draped in velvet and gold, she looked every bit the noble she-wolf.
And she was glaring at Aria like she was filth.
"Kairo," she said, smiling sweetly at him. "You're back."
Her smile vanished the moment she looked at Aria.
"And you… brought her."
Aria inhaled sharply.
The woman stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "She's the one you've been searching for? This—human?"
Aria stiffened.
Kairo didn't hesitate.
"This is Aria Moonstone," he said flatly. "My promised bride."
The woman's face twisted.
"Promised…? But Kairo, she's—"
"Enough."
The temperature of the hallway seemed to drop ten degrees.
Guards shifted uncomfortably.
The woman swallowed, stepping back. "Yes… Your Majesty."
Kairo turned to Aria again.
"You will stay in my wing of the palace," he said.
"What?" Aria whispered.
His eyes dropped to her lips briefly, a flash she almost didn't catch.
"Where I can keep an eye on you," he added.
"That sounds like a threat."
"It is."
Heat crawled up her neck.
He leaned down, his mouth brushing dangerously close to her ear.
"You ran from me once," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "Try it again… and I won't carry you back next time."
His voice deepened, darkened.
"I'll drag you."
Aria's knees nearly buckled again, not from weakness, but from the intensity of him.
He straightened.
"Follow me."
She did, partly because she didn't want to be surrounded by hostile wolves…
… and partly because something inside her pulled toward him like gravity.
Every step she took echoed with the same terrifying truth:
She belonged in the Alpha King's kingdom.
But she didn't belong here as a queen.
She belonged here as his prey.