Chapter 2 THE WOLF BENEATH THE CROWN

The Blackfang wolves whispered.

They always did when something unfamiliar crept into the rhythm of their lives. And nothing was more unfamiliar than Aria Stormveil strolling through the fortress halls like she belonged.

She wore no crown, no gown of shimmering silk. Just a fitted tunic, black trousers tucked into high leather boots, and a blade strapped to her hip like a challenge.

Kael watched from the training yard balcony, arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight.

"She's not hiding," Ronin observed beside him, sounding amused.

"She should," Kael muttered.

Ronin chuckled. "She's not afraid of you."

"She should be."

But even as Kael said it, his eyes stayed locked on her figure-graceful, proud, and entirely out of place in his fortress.

And yet... not.

That was the problem.

There was something wrong about how right she looked there.

Kael turned away before she caught him staring. He wouldn't give her that power.

---

Aria walked into the training yard like she owned it. Dozens of warriors paused their drills, sweat glistening on their brows as they turned to the newcomer.

Her presence was a disruption.

She loved it.

A younger soldier, probably no more than eighteen, stepped forward with a cocky grin. "You lost, Lady Stormveil?"

Aria tilted her head. "Are all Blackfang warriors this talkative, or just the ones who've never seen a woman with a sword?"

He blinked, startled.

Then laughed. "Alright then. Want to spar?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Within minutes, a ring had formed around them.

The boy-Gregor, someone whispered-lunged first, fast and eager.

Aria dodged easily. She moved like a flame-fluid, unpredictable, and untouchable.

Cheers erupted as she disarmed him with a twist of her wrist, sending his blade clattering to the ground. She pointed her sword at his chest.

"Dead," she said simply.

The soldiers roared with laughter and applause, slapping Gregor on the back as he grinned sheepishly.

Then a new voice rang out.

"I'll take the next round."

The crowd stilled.

Kael stepped into the circle.

Aria straightened, meeting his gaze with an unspoken dare.

"You don't spar with your warriors?" she asked.

"I don't spar," Kael said, drawing his blade. "I fight."

She smiled slowly. "Perfect."

---

Their swords clashed with a sound that echoed off stone.

Kael was fast. Brutal. A predator in motion.

Aria was faster. Smarter. She ducked, spun, parried-never backing down, never breaking eye contact.

The wolves around them held their breath.

Kael feinted left-Aria countered.

He struck high-she ducked.

They moved in a blur, two storms colliding in a battle of pride and power. The air crackled with heat. Not from the fight. From the tension that shimmered between each strike.

Then Kael's blade grazed her arm.

Aria hissed-but smiled.

"You're holding back."

Kael's eyes darkened. "I don't want to scar my bride before the ceremony."

"How considerate," she sneered.

She lunged-and Kael caught her by the waist, spun her, and slammed her blade to the ground.

They froze-her back pressed to his chest, breath tangled with his.

His voice was low in her ear. "Yield."

Her heart thundered.

"No."

She twisted in his grip, shoving him back just enough to lock eyes.

For a moment, the fight was forgotten.

Something burned between them. Not rage. Not strategy.

Something primal.

The crowd began to cheer again-mistaking tension for entertainment.

Kael released her, stepping back.

Aria picked up her sword, turned to the onlookers, and gave a slight bow. "Your king fights well. Almost as well as he broods."

Laughter exploded around them.

Kael said nothing.

But inside, something shifted.

She wasn't here to play a role.

She was here to challenge him.

And gods help him-he liked it.

---

That evening, the castle buzzed with rumors.

"She fought the Alpha and walked away untouched-"

"She put Gregor on his ass!"

"She didn't even flinch when Kael had her pinned!"

Aria heard it all as she bathed in her private chambers, the warm water scented with lavender and moonflower. She sank deeper into the tub, closing her eyes.

She'd proven her point.

She wouldn't be ignored. Or silenced.

But it came at a cost.

The sting on her arm where Kael's blade nicked her still throbbed. A reminder.

Of his power.

And hers.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a knock at the chamber door.

"Enter," she called, wrapping herself in a silk robe.

A servant bowed, holding a velvet-wrapped box. "From the king, my lady."

Aria raised a brow. "Really?"

The servant nodded and placed it on the table before leaving without another word.

Curious, Aria opened the box.

Inside lay a dagger.

Its hilt was carved from obsidian, inlaid with silver moons. The blade gleamed, freshly sharpened. A note rested beneath it, written in a hand she now recognized-elegant, sharp as a swordpoint.

"Since you fight like a wolf, you should carry a blade worthy of one. -K."

Aria stared at the dagger.

Then she smiled.

Maybe the Alpha wasn't entirely stone after all.

---

The next day, preparations for the mating ceremony began.

The Blackfang elders demanded it be public.

Aria was measured for ceremonial attire by a seamstress with shaking hands. When she asked why everyone was so tense, the woman stammered, "Because no one has ever stood up to the king like you do."

"Well," Aria said dryly, "maybe someone should have."

Kael, meanwhile, met with the priestess of the Moon Well-a sacred tradition of the Blackfangs that bound mates under both moon and blood. He didn't believe in rituals. But politics required symbols.

And the people needed a Luna.

Even if she burned every custom she touched.

Ronin found him hours later, staring at the moonlight spilling through the high windows of the war room.

"You're brooding again," Ronin said.

"I'm marrying a Stormveil," Kael muttered.

"You're marrying Aria," Ronin corrected. "There's a difference."

Kael scowled.

Ronin hesitated. "Have you thought about the bond?"

"There is no bond," Kael snapped.

"But what if there is?" Ronin asked. "What if the gods chose her for you?"

Kael looked away.

Once, he had loved.

Once, he had been chosen.

And it ended in blood.

He would not risk it again.

---

That night, Aria couldn't sleep.

She walked the empty halls of the castle, her bare feet silent on cold stone. The moonlight poured through arched windows, casting silver shadows along her path.

She paused in the library-massive, ancient, untouched.

She wandered past shelves of forgotten knowledge, running her fingers along worn spines, breathing in the scent of old magic and ink.

She didn't hear him enter.

"Most avoid this place," Kael said quietly behind her.

Aria turned, startled. "Why?"

"Too many ghosts."

She tilted her head. "Do you believe in ghosts, Kael?"

"I believe in consequences."

He stepped closer, his expression unreadable. "You didn't come here to be loved."

"No," she agreed. "But I didn't come to be caged either."

Their eyes locked in the quiet of the library, moonlight dancing between them.

Kael looked at her as if he wanted to say something-then thought better of it.

Instead, he offered a simple truth.

"The ceremony is tomorrow."

"I know."

"Are you ready?"

"No," she said. "But I will be."

He studied her.

"You're stronger than I thought."

Aria smiled faintly. "And you're less heartless than you pretend."

They stood in silence, two wolves in a den built of stone and secrets.

And somewhere beneath the quiet, something ancient stirred.