A sound leaves his throat — half snarl, half sob. His wings falter. He stumbles, just once.
And then he starts to move toward me.
I turn fast, ready to run. But the moment I take the first step, I sway. The severing of the bond took too much out of me. I knew this might happen, but I had to take the risk.
“Neris, we need to run,” I say to my wolf but it’s too late. She’s already fading in and out of consciousness. Just like me.
I start falling but before I reach the ground, strong arms grab me.
“No,” is the last word I whisper before I’m lost to the darkness.
Chapter 2
Kassira
Iwake up with a headache that feels like my brain’s boiling inside my skull.
And then — just as suddenly — it’s gone. Silence. Stillness. Huh. That’s good.
My eyes are closed, but my hand is already searching. The texture beneath me isn’t familiar — too soft, too smooth, too damn expensive. This isn’t the rough cot in my home in Kunou Forest. This isn’t exile.
Then it hits me all at once. The memories. What I’ve done. What I’ve unleashed.
My eyes snap open. I sit up too fast and nearly choke on a gasp.
The bed I’m in? It looks like it belongs to a royal. No, not even that. It looks like it belongs to a god. Rich, dark wood. Velvet sheets. Pillows made of clouds, probably stitched by angels or fae seamstresses or something. It’s disgustingly perfect.
I don’t get to enjoy it long.
A low snarl rumbles through the room.
My head jerks toward the sound, and my blood turns to ice.
A massive, winged lycan crouches in the corner, silver eyes glowing, teeth bared. His jaws are too big to fully close, drool pooling beneath him in thick, wet strings. His wings twitch like he’s trying not to pounce.
Oh, stars. This is fine. Everything’s fine. Except for the GIANT MONSTER watching me like I’m a walking steak.
I reach inside for Neris. Nothing. She’s still unconscious. I’m alone.
And alone, I’m useless.
Not that she could fight a lycan. Not even a tiny one. But still — her presence always made me feel braver. Now it’s just me. My fear. My heartbeat pounding in my ears.
I take a slow breath and move to slide out of the bed, my eyes locked on the beast.
The moment my foot touches the floor, he snarls — louder this time, guttural and sharp.
I scramble backward into the pillows, heart galloping.
“Do not snarl at me,” I hiss, my voice barely a whisper but laced with shaky defiance. “That’s rude.”
He huffs, big gusts of air shooting from his nostrils like warning flares. His ears flick. His tail lashes. He’s not amused.
Fantastic. I escaped a cursed bond only to become the personal chew toy of a deranged lycan.
I scan the room, taking it in properly now. Ornate. Opulent. Every inch screams royalty, from the gilded fireplace to the crystal decanter on the nightstand.
My stomach drops. Why didn’t I think of this when I was admiring the bed?
