Chapter 2 The Alpha's Castle

Beside her was a member of the Elder Council, an older man known as Magistrate Thorne. His expression was grave, and his gaze hardly left the road in front of him. He had said little since leaving the village, and Lyra was grateful for the silence. This sentence was not going to help even a bit with the storm of emotions coursing through her. There was rage, terror, and profound betrayal. More than anything else there was confusion, so much confusion. Why her? Why should she be singled out for this.... this ceremony?

The moment they walked into the clearing at the foot of the castle, Lyra, all suddenly afraid, easily gasped. The muscular stark castle reared itself up on the jagged hill before her - from forest floor to top, sentry-like - and there was a kind of ancient beauty in its towering stone walls vined with ivy. It was cool, even on this summer's day. But here too a tranquil stillness that wasn't at all present in nature. The wind had not yet arrived here, and the world felt like it was holding its breath.

Thorne didn't speak as he dismounted, and neither did Lyra, though her legs felt slightly unsteady while they walked toward the giant gates. They were met by two tall, watchful figures in dark cloaks, who opened the gates without a word. Lyra felt their eyes on her - cold and assessing, but with an hint of respectfulness about them.

"I'll have you before the alpha now." Thorne said ushering her inside. "He has been expecting you."

Lyra blinked, the lump in her throat making her feel like a dam choking her. Those words bore heavily on her, and she felt the run of what was to come crush down on her.

Inside, the castle looked more gloomy than the outside. The grand hall opened before her, with vaulted ceilings and dark stone walls covered with blood-spattered tapestries of wolves caught on the hunt. The air was laced with the faintest hint of wood smoke and the acrid tang of the forest, as though the castle were also a part of the ground it walked on.

"Wait here," Thorne said, breaking into her reverie. "The alpha will be with you shortly."

He left her in the middle of the hall, and Lyra felt his absence like an immediate weight. Alone in this cold, empty space, she felt small and insignificant, a lamb led to slaughter. She felt like fleeing, turning around and running back to the village. But deep down, she knew it was too late. She had already made it to the country and there was no going back.

A thick door at the far end of the hall creaked open, Lyra's heart seemed to stop beating as she turned to confront the figure which emerged from the shadows. He was tall, his frame broad, so broad that it seemed to take up almost more room than the room should properly allow.

Lines of light scored his face as sharply as a hatchet; his jawline might have been cut from the foam rubber of a crash helmet; when he stepped out, his eyes, that burned with an intensity she had never encountered before in her life--both locked onto hers and held them. His tanned skin was smooth; it drew the eye to muscles that were like great lumps of iron under it. Staring out at him she felt that there was something in him greater than himself, some power that pervaded the air in this room. But it was those eyes of his which compelled her most: golden amber, like a wolf's eyes in the moon. mysterious, and a deep, deep sorrow.

That, she understood, was Kale - the alpha.

He approached her deliberately, his motions measured, just leaning in slightly, but the way he moved was oddly predatory. The air stirred like the castle acknowledged his presence.

"You are the one," he said, every word a low tone, a growl suppressed. It was not a question in his tone, only an indication of fact.

Lyra stood immobile, not knowing what to say. Her mouth was dry, and for a moment she just gazed at him. she had heard tales of alphas-tales of beasts who ruled the wolves with an iron grip, who demanded the ritual bride at the ascension of a new alpha, without compunction. Lyra squared her shoulders, holding out her arms, and set his face between her hands, and he was still a beast, yes, but he was a man too-no, no, more, a thing that was man and beast. He had a commanding presence, but there was a weariness to him that seemed to leave him... burdened.

"You're Lyra," Kale went on, his eyes never faltering. "The chosen bride."

"I... I didn't want this," Lyra stated, queasy, her voice quivering even when she wanted to sound strong. She took a step back, the space between them widening, though it seemed useless against the crushing abyss of him.

Kale's face softened just a little, his eyes still unreadable. "No one ever chooses it," he said softly, as if to himself. "But it must be done. The ritual cannot be avoided."

Lyra shook her head; her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm not your bride," she said, more firmly this time. "I won't be."

Kale's lips twisted upward in a bitter smile that held no humor. "You don't have a choice. This is bigger than me, or you. It's about something that's much older than either of us."

A shiver ran across Lyra at the gravity of his words. She'd heard the tales: the stories about the curse that haunted the wolves; the pact struck long ago between their kind and humans. But hearing it said out loud, with that sense of finality, sent a shiver down her spine.

Before she could answer, a low growl issued from Kale's chest and for the briefest second his eyes glowed brighter, his face going hard. The change was subtle, but undeniable. Then she saw it-the wolf inside him scratching at the surface, the beast he carried, waiting to be released.

Kale appeared to pull himself back together, his expression softening once more. He stepped back, and the tension in the room relaxed, although the atmosphere still bubbled with a perilous charge. "Forgive me," he said, and there was no real apology in his words. "It's been awhile since I've had to put up with someone who doesn't... take their duties seriously."

Lyra's chest felt tight, rasps of air coming in shallow bursts. "I refuse this," she said again, her determination stiffening. "I don't belong here."

"Maybe not," Kale said, now with a different tone. "But here you are, just as I am bound to this castle, bound to the curse that binds me." For the second time, his eyes darkened, but this time it was with something deeper than frustration. "We are not so different, you and I."

Lyra didn't know how to respond to that. All her life she had thought the wolves were monsters - night creatures who fed on fear. But Kale ... Kale was no monster. He was more complex and more human than she had ever imagined." And that was the thing that most terrified her.

"Come," he said, suddenly soft voice. "I will show you to your quarters. You will remain here until moonrise. Then we will perform the ritual."

The words washed over Lyra like a cold wave of dread, but she made herself take a step forward, to follow him into the heart of the castle.

Walking beside him, she had a sense that this was just the beginning. Secrets about the pack, Kale, and herself -that she had yet to uncover." And she knew in her heart that the answers she was seeking would not come free.