The Wolf King's Prisoner

Lyrianna's POV

Let me...me go!" I screamed once more.

The rope around my wrists burned as they dragged me across the uneven stone floor. My knees scraped against it, leaving little smears of blood that no one cared about. I had been screaming at first, until my throat grew raw and dry. Now my voice was little more than a hoarse rasp, swallowed by the din of the marketplace that pulsed beyond the door.

"Keep her quiet," one of the men snapped. His name was Garrick, I remembered because he'd been the first to clamp a sack over my head the night I was taken. He was thick-necked, his breath always smelling of garlic and ale. He tugged hard on the rope until I stumbled, slamming into his companion's back.

He yanked the rope hard enough to jolt me forward. I slammed into the wiry man ahead of us, Fen, whose eyes were like needles, pricking wherever they landed. Always watching. Always calculating.

"Don't damage her," Fen muttered, his voice cold and clinical. "Her face is what sells."

Her face. Not me. Not Lyrianna Starweaver, daughter of Alpha Stellan of the Moonwhisper Pack. Just a face. Just flesh. Just an omega who had no wolf to guard her.

I wanted to spit at them. To curse. To shout that my father would send an army to tear them limb from limb. But the words curdled on my tongue. Because in the back of my mind, curling tighter with every step, was a whisper that tasted of dread.

What if they weren't coming?

The men shoved me through a curtain into a wash of blinding light. Heat hit me next, thick and suffocating, mixed with the stench of sweat, blood, and burned fur. The noise rolled over me like a crashing tide, jeers, laughter, bargaining.

"There she is!" someone shouted.

"Too skinny."

"Her breasts are firm. Beautiful face, but wolfless."

"Wolfless, though. Useless for anything but breeding."

The crowd's laughter was sharp as knives.

I blinked hard until my vision cleared and then bile rose in my throat. The hall was lined with cages. Not with bodies. With...light and other younger girls around my age, some have bloody shirts and scars with a face of lost hope.

Orbs of color, blue, gold, crimson swirling, pulsing as if alive. Wolf essences. Torn from their hosts, stripped and sold like bottled fire.

I staggered, stomach twisting. Children's tales had spoken of this, whispered in warning around firepits. But seeing it here, seeing proof of wolves ripped from souls made my insides heave.

A shove between my shoulders sent me stumbling onto a raised platform. Garrick snapped iron cuffs around my wrists, chaining me to a post at its center. My heart slammed against my ribs, frantic, like a bird in a snare.

A man in shiny red robes raised his arms. "Lot twenty-three! A virgin Omega, wolfless, yet bred of noble blood. Unmated purity!"

The crowd roared, hungry.

Heat crawled up my neck as eyes raked me from head to toe. Their gazes were hands, greedy, lingering. My skin prickled with shame I could not scrub away.

"They'll come for me," I whispered to myself, lips cracked and bleeding as the words scraped out.

"Father will come. My brothers-"

All of a sudden, I saw him.

My eldest brother, Keir Starweaver.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, tall, red hair bound tightly. His stance was rigid, arms folded across his chest. When his gaze met mine, I searched desperately for fury, for shock, for any sign he'd come charging to drag me home.

But there was nothing.

Only stone. Cold command.

The blade slid in quietly, twisting without mercy.

It was him. His order. His choice. Keir, who had never liked me but still has protected me once. Keir, who now stood silent as I was paraded like cattle. He sold me? What about Asher...Sage...my father?

Moon goddess... Why had they forsaken me?

"No." The word broke from me, fragile and small. My knees trembled. "No, please-"

"Start the bidding!"

The air fractured.

"Two hundred!"

"Three!"

"Five!"

Numbers flew, shouted over one another. I tried to keep up, but they blurred into a sickening rhythm. My ears rang, drowning beneath the weight of voices.

"She's wolfless!" a man barked.

"Breed her, see if she is strong!" another jeered.

Hot shame bled down my spine. My nails dug crescent moons into my palms. I wanted to scream that I wasn't broken, that I was more than an empty womb. But even if I had shouted, not a soul here would have listened.

And then silence fell.

A voice cut through the noise. Calm. Low yet Dangerous.

"One thousand."

The crowd hissed. Heads snapped to find the source.

Seated apart from the others, cloaked in shadow, was a man in a dark mask. He didn't move. He didn't shout. He simply existed, and the room bent around him.

"Fifteen hundred!" another bidder snapped.

"Two thousand," the masked man countered, effortless.

The auction house erupted again, numbers climbing, fury swelling but each time, he matched and raised, unflinching.

Until no one dared to fight him further.

"Sold!" The gavel cracked like thunder. "Sold to the masked bidder for three thousand!"

Chains rattled as Garrick released me, shoving me toward the edge of the stage. My knees buckled, but I forced them straight. If I was dragged like an animal, I would at least lift my chin.

Inside, though, I was crumbling.

They led me into a smaller chamber, the noise of the market muffled behind stone. Cold air bit at my skin. My pulse pounded as the masked man stepped forward. He was taller than I'd realized, his shoulders broad, his presence filling the space.

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing words through the crack in my throat. "Do you...do you know what they've done? I was taken against my will. My family will-"

"Your family sold you."

The words hit harder than Garrick's rope, harder than the iron shackles. They shattered the last fragile piece of hope I had clung to.

My chest hollowed. The air felt thin.

"I'll escape," I whispered, clinging to the only weapon left to me. "Even if it kills me."

His head tilted, as if considering whether to laugh.

With deliberate calm, he lifted his mask.

My breath caught.

He was devastating. Dark hair framed a face too perfect to be real, the kind that made weak hearts worship and strong ones falter. His cheekbones were sharp, his mouth sculpted with quiet cruelty, his eyes forged from ruthlessness. Looking at him felt like drowning and burning at once.

Then it hit me like lightning tearing through bone and marrow. My blood ignited, my lungs forgot how to breathe. The bond snapped into place, undeniable and cruel.

"Mate," I whispered, the word escaping before I could stop it.

For the barest heartbeat, his eyes widened, something flickered across his face, recognition, shock, the same pull that gripped me. But then it was gone, replaced with cold disgust.

I wanted to recoil, to demand why the Moon Goddess would chain me to him. But before I could, his voice slithered where no voice should ever go.

Inside my mind.

"You think of escape."

I stiffened, my breath faltering. My thoughts weren't spoken. They were mine. Yet he heard them. How...How? Not even the Goddess was meant to hear my thoughts. How could he?

His lips curved, not in kindness, but cruelty. "Your father doesn't even know it was me who bought you. He'll find out soon enough."

He leaned closer, as if savoring my horror.

"And when he does, there will be nothing he can do."

Malakai's POV

The prisoner was silent when I carried her across the borders of Shadowclaw, her wrists bound, her hair tangled, her scent trailing behind me like smoke I couldn't shake.

Mate.

What a useless coincidence.

The word still lingered in my skull, poisonous, unwanted. Tharros, my wolf paced in my head, snarling and restless, desperate to claim what I had no intention of claiming.

Not her. Not his daughter.

The fortress rose ahead, spiked towers cutting against the night sky. Shadowclaw's stronghold was no palace; it was a fortress meant to keep enemies out and subjects in line. And tonight, it would witness the humiliation of the girl I carried.

Lyrianna stirred, groggy but stubborn, muttering under her breath. "If you're going to kill me, at least drop me before you get to your home. Spare me the view."

I almost laughed at her sarcasm. Almost.

"You wish for death too quickly," I told her coldly, tightening my grip when she squirmed. "Don't worry, omega. You'll learn how long life can feel when you're in the wrong hands."

Her mouth snapped shut, but her glare, fragile though she was burned against my jaw.

The courtyard was full when I arrived. My wolves had gathered, curious about the prize I'd dragged home. Their whispers filled the air like buzzing flies.

I love attending auctions for fun and getting my servants myself, she looks dirtier than all the other servants I've purchased during the times, but I never expected to see a female Starweaver being betrayed and sold by her own family. She doesn't believe it yet that her family sold her out yet but soon she will. But why? What was the reason?

The moment the guards dragged Lyrianna out, whispers ignited.

"She looks... dirty and weak."

"Why bring such useless meat into Shadowclaw?"

I didn't look at her. I looked at them, my pack, my people. Their faith in me had been forged by blood and fear, and I would not falter. To them, she had to be nothing. Less than nothing.

"Who is she?"

I dropped her on the cold stone floor in front of them. She winced, but she didn't beg. Not yet.

I let silence stretch, let her humiliation sink deeper before I spoke. "This," I announced, my voice carrying over the crowd, "is Lyrianna Starweaver. Daughter of Alpha Stellan Starweaver. The spoiled jewel of our enemy. Daughter of the Alpha who sent his armies against us. Daughter of the man who killed your sons, your brothers, your mates."

Gasps rippled. The name was poison here, her father's war had cost us too many lives.

I watched her flinch, though she lifted her chin stubbornly. Brave little liar.

"Who...who are you?" She whispers, for only me to hear.

"She is my mate."

The words cracked through the courtyard like thunder. Gasps surged, wolves craning closer, torn between awe and dread.

For one heartbeat, the crowd held its breath, was this fragile omega to rise as Luna? Her wide eyes lifted to mine, hope flickering where fear had lived. I let the silence stretch, cruel and heavy, until it choked the air itself. Then I bared my teeth.

"But don't mistake what that means. She is not my Luna. She is my enemy's daughter. A tool. A pawn. And I reject her."

Her lips parted. Shock, then horror, then fury crossed her face. "You can't just-"

"I reject you, Lyrianna Starweaver, daughter of Alpha Stellan Starweaver, Alpha of Moonwhisper pack," I cut her off, my voice like iron. "I, Malakai Windrunner, Alpha of Shadowclaw pack, reject you as my mate."

I watched the shocked flickers in her eyes from hearing my name.

The pack erupted in cheers and cruel laughter. I had given them a show, given them blood without shedding it. And she-sweet little omega was at the center of it all.

Her voice cracked as she whispered, more to herself than to me, "Mate bonds aren't supposed to be this cruel."

I ignored the twist in my chest. "You'll find I make my own rules."

The pack leaned forward as my words rang out, rejection sharp as a blade. They waited for her scream, for the collapse, for the bond to shatter her from the inside. But Lyrianna did not fall. She stood trembling, wrists bound, chin lifted, eyes blazing through the sting of silence. Confusion rippled through the crowd, whispers breaking like cracks in stone.

Tharros clawed inside me, restless, growling that something was wrong, she should be writhing, broken. But nothing. No snap, no pain. Just her, defiant, unbroken. And for the first time, I felt the cold bite of doubt.

"Why isn't she breaking? Why isn't she screaming?" Tharros clawed at me, furious. And then, realization cut through me. Her wolf. Dormant. Untouched. The bond remained unbroken.

"How can you reject me without an active wolf?" She said, low enough for me to hear.

"No...you can't," Tharros, my wolf said in unison, "No wonder I couldn't feel the pain of the broken rejection."

That was when Ava appeared.

She stepped forward from the crowd, dark-haired and graceful, her lips curved in a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She had grown up in this fortress with me, the sister of my Beta, loyal and clever. Too clever.

"My Alpha," she purred, her gaze sliding to Lyrianna with open disdain. "You brought her here?"

"She is no guest," I said flatly.

Ava's smile sharpened. "Then what is she?"

I turned to the girl on the ground, who trembled but refused to bow her head. She still had some fire left. Good. I'd burn it out of her myself.

"She is my prisoner," I declared. "A pawn. A breeder, if I feel like mocking her father further. But she will never be my equal."

Laughter roared around us, cruel and cutting. Someone spat at her feet. Others jeered. Ava's eyes gleamed with triumph as she stepped closer, circling Lyrianna like a vulture.

"What a shame," she crooned. "To be fated to the Alpha, only to be unwanted. Rejected." She leaned down, her voice a whisper meant to wound. "Do you feel it, omega? The bond snapping like brittle glass?"

Lyrianna's jaw clenched, and her voice, though small, was sharp enough to cut. "Better glass than chains."

The crowd jeered louder, but Ava's smile faltered, just for a second. I noticed.

I should have been amused. Instead, I felt Tharros rear inside me again, furious that anyone mocked her but me. I shoved him back.

She was mine to break.

.

.

Later, when the crowd dispersed, I had her dragged into the fortress and locked in a stone chamber. Chains bound her wrists to the wall.

"You think rejecting me proves something?" she snapped, her voice raw but steady. "All it proves is you're afraid of me."

Afraid. The word stung, though I kept my face blank.

"Afraid?" I repeated slowly, stepping close enough that she had to crane her neck to meet my eyes.

"No, little omega. I despise you. I despise everything your bloodline stands for. You will never be more than a tool to me."

Her lips trembled, but she lifted her chin. "Then use me. Break me. Sell me. But don't mistake me for my father's weapon. He doesn't care about me."

The words gave me pause. For a heartbeat, I searched her face, trying to decide if it was truth or clever manipulation. Tharros whined, desperate to believe her.

I shut him out.

"Lie to yourself if it makes you feel better," I said coldly. "But I know your kind. And I'll never fall for your games."

I turned to leave, ignoring the way her scent lingered, maddening and sweet.

"You can beg. You can cry. But I'll never see you as anything more than the daughter of my enemy," I growled over my shoulder.

Yet even as I spoke, I knew my eyes betrayed me, burning with the pull I refused to accept.

She thought she was broken already. She hadn't yet learned what it meant to be humiliated at Shadowclaw's hands... or at mine.

She had no idea-rejecting her might destroy me instead

Lyrianna's POV

The stones were colder than the auction block, colder than the jeering courtyard, colder than Malakai's rejection.

By the time the guards dragged me down into the bowels of Shadowclaw's fortress, my body was more bruised than flesh. Their fists and boots had been thorough, and the iron shackles scraped my skin raw each time I stumbled. I didn't have the strength to beg them to stop, I wasn't sure I would've begged even if I did.

The dungeon smelled of rust, mold, and despair. Water dripped from the ceiling, steady as a heartbeat. Torches sputtered along the walls, their flames casting cruel shadows across cells already littered with straw, bone, and broken souls.

"This one goes here," a guard spat, wrenching me forward. His grip dug into my arm, leaving new crescents in my skin.

The second guard-broad, with a scar dragging down his cheek, unlocked a door and shoved me inside so hard my knees gave out. My palms slapped the ground, scraping on stone.

Before I could gather myself, spit hit my cheek, hot and foul.

I flinched, looking up. The scarred guard sneered down at me.

"The sins of the father," he hissed. "And of the brothers who slaughtered our kin. May you rot for them all, wolfless filth."

Another glob of spit struck the floor beside me. The first guard laughed.

"Better pray your goddess shows mercy tomorrow. But I doubt she will."

They slammed the door shut, their curses trailing down the corridor until only the dripping water kept me company. It reeked of foul smell and iron, every breath scraping my throat. Rats scurried bold through the straw, and from somewhere deeper came a low, endless groan. Water dripped steadily from the ceiling, each drop echoing like a clock counting down, not to freedom, but to ruin.

I pressed my back to the cold stone, clutching the stale bread like it might anchor me. My body ached, but it was the thought of him that set my blood boiling. Malakai. The masked Alpha. My father's sworn enemy. And now, my mate.

The Moon Goddess must be cruel beyond words. To bind me to the man who bought me like cattle, who dragged me here to humiliate me before his pack.

And worse, he was tall, commanding, terrifyingly handsome in a way that made my stomach twist. A face carved from power itself. My body betrayed me the instant our eyes locked, but my mind would not.

I will never bow to him. Not Malakai. Not my family's enemy.

If he wanted to break me, he would have to do worse than chains and rejection. I would bleed before I begged.

For a moment, I sat frozen. Blood trickled from a cut on my temple, warm against the chill. My chest rose and fell too quickly, and I pressed trembling fingers to my ribs where their boots had landed. Pain blossomed everywhere, sharp and deep.

But worse than pain was the silence inside me.

My wolf. My other half. I called for her the way I always did when the world became too dark, reaching with everything I had left.

Nothing answered.

My breath hitched, and I pressed my forehead to my knees. Why won't you wake up? Please... I can't do this alone.

The walls didn't care. The Moon Goddess didn't care. My wolf didn't care.

Hours might have passed, time was nothing in that place. Hunger gnawed at me before long, a low ache that mocked me. When the cell door creaked open again, my stomach clenched more from dread than hope.

It wasn't a guard this time.

She was small, no older than me, her frame delicate in a plain gray dress. Her hair hung in a limp brown braid, and her hands shook as she carried a wooden tray. A bowl of broth, a hunk of bread, a tin cup of water.

Her eyes flicked to mine, then darted away quickly, as if she'd be punished for looking too long.

"Here," she whispered, sliding the tray toward me. Her voice was timid, the voice of someone who had been punished too often for speaking.

I stared at her, dazed. "You're... like me," I said hoarsely.

Her lips trembled. She gave a tiny nod. "An omega. Wolfless."

The words were heavy on her tongue, like she'd been made to spit them her whole life.

"What's your name?" I asked, reaching slowly for the bread.

"Seris." Her eyes flickered up, quick and nervous. "I'm to bring your meals. That's all."

"That's all?" My laugh cracked, bitter. "As if food will make this prison a home."

She winced, as though she feared I'd turn my anger on her. "If they see me linger, they'll punish me."

I softened, guilt threading through me. "I won't keep you, Seris. Thank you... for not looking at me like I'm dirt."

Her gaze finally met mine, steady for just a heartbeat. "You're worse off than dirt here," she whispered. "Dirt can't bleed."

Seris hesitated before leaving, her hand trembling on the door's iron latch. For a moment, she glanced back, her eyes wide, uncertain, as though weighing whether to speak at all.

Then, in a voice so low I almost thought I imagined it, she whispered, "You're not the first they've brought here. But you're the first who's still fighting."

My chest tightened. I wanted to laugh, to tell her she was wrong, that I wasn't fighting, only surviving. But the look in her eyes-quiet, starved for hope, kept me silent.

"Why would you say that?" I asked.

Seris bit her lip. "Because you still look at people. Most of us learned not to." She swallowed, the words tasting dangerous. "Don't let them take that away."

Then she slipped out, leaving me with her warning echoing louder than the dripping walls with me clutching the stale bread like it was a lifeline.

I forced myself to eat slowly, even when my body screamed to devour it all. If I lost control now, I'd have nothing later. I had to cling to some shred of control, no matter how small.

But control fled the moment she came.

The sound of soft footsteps echoed, deliberate, unhurried. Then the door opened, and Ava stepped inside like she belonged in every shadow.

Her dark hair gleamed, her smile sharp as broken glass. She carried herself like royalty, though she was not one. The sister of Malakai's Beta, I remembered from the courtyard. Loyal to him, and already burning with hatred for me.

She wrinkled her nose at the stench of the dungeon. "So this is where the Moon Goddess has hidden her precious gift. Fitting."

I stiffened, my fingers curling around the tin cup. "What do you want?"

"To see you," she said sweetly, crouching until her face was level with mine. "To look at the pathetic little creature the goddess dared to call Malakai's mate."

Her hand shot out suddenly, striking my cheek with a sharp crack. My head whipped to the side, skin stinging.

I bit back a cry.

"Don't look at me like you're above me," Ava hissed. "You're nothing. Wolfless. Useless. Do you know what it does to him, to all of us, that the Moon Goddess chose you?"

My chest heaved, my nails digging into the stone at my side. "I never asked for this bond. I didn't even know who he was until tonight. I only ever heard stories of the masked Alpha of the North, the ruthless one. I didn't know it was him."

Her laugh was brittle. "Oh, he's ruthless, little omega. Do you want to know why? Because of your family. Because your father and brothers broke him long before you ever laid eyes on him. And now the Moon Goddess plays her cruel joke by tying him to you. Imagine that, a mate bound to the blood that destroyed him."

My heart lurched. "What did they do to him?"

Her smile widened, cruel. "You'll never hear it from me. That is his wound to wear. But know this, Lyrianna Starweaver, you'll never heal it. You'll never be enough."

Her words landed harder than the slap. My throat burned, but I forced myself to whisper, "Then why are you here? To gloat?"

"Partly." Her fingers brushed my cheek where she'd struck, mocking tenderness. "But also to warn you. Tomorrow is the Houndborn Moon."

The name chilled me, though I didn't understand it. "What is that?"

Ava's eyes glinted. "It's the night we stand before the Goddess's light and weigh her choices. A night for judgment. For rejection. For blood. Wolves born under it are cursed to hunger forever. Do you understand, little omega? Tomorrow the elders will decide whether to honor the bond... or tear it apart before the entire pack."

A shiver ran through me. I didn't understand all of it, but the way she said tear it apart made my stomach knot.

Ava leaned closer, her whisper poison. "And without a wolf, you don't stand a chance. Tomorrow, they will call you what you are: wolfless, worthless, unwanted. And he-" she tilted her head, her smile triumphant, "he will let them."

My lips trembled. I wanted to spit back, to claw her words apart. Instead, I said, barely audible, "Better wolfless than cruel."

Her smile snapped, rage flashing across her face. She struck me again, harder. Pain flared, copper flooding my tongue.

"You think you're strong?" she snarled. "You're nothing. And tomorrow, you'll see what it means to defy Shadowclaw."

She rose, smoothing her dress as though she hadn't just bruised me. Her heels clicked against the stone as she left, her parting words echoing.

"Pray, Lyrianna Starweaver. Pray your silent wolf wakes. Because if she doesn't, the Houndborn Moon will swallow you whole."

The door slammed shut, and her footsteps faded, leaving the cell colder than before. My cheek throbbed, the taste of copper thick on my tongue. Even her perfume, sharp, bitter-sweet clung to the air, a ghost of her cruelty I couldn't scrub away.

I pressed my forehead to the wall, whispering into the silence, "Aethonix... please. Wake up. If you don't, I'll die tomorrow."

But the dungeon gave no answer.

Only the sound of water dripping, steady as doom.