POV: Aira Moonstone
The cold stone floor pressed against her knees.The heavy chains rubbed her skin raw.And yet, none of that compared to the ice pooling in her veins.
They were talking.
Just outside the door. Voices—low, firm, calculating.
"She's here. One of them is the white wolf."
White wolf.
Aira's breath caught in her throat.
Her entire body went cold.
No one knew. No one.
Not her pack. Not her father. Not even Jack.Only Nina—her wolf—had ever seen her true form in the stillness of moonlight… the pure white fur, the glowing eyes, the ancient pulse of Selene within her bones.
They couldn't know.
They must not know.
A whisper from within. Hide it. Bury it.
But Nina was silent. Still in the fog of rejection, her presence just a flicker in the dark.
And then it happened.
The door creaked open.
Not a slam. Not a shout.
A calm, commanding presence filled the air like poison. The kind of quiet power that didn't need noise to dominate a room.
The temperature dropped.
Aira's spine stiffened.
Every instinct in her body screamed to run—but her limbs were bound. Her wrists, sore and blistered, trembled with the weight of the silver chains.
The guards rushed in and began waking the girls, barking orders, dragging their broken bodies upright.
She kept her head low, pretending to be unconscious. Maybe, just maybe—
A rough hand grabbed her shoulder and shook her hard.
"Wake up!" a guard snarled.
Aira blinked once. Twice.
And then she saw him.
Him.
The face from her nightmares. The blood-drenched shadow that had haunted her since she was a child.
Those eyes—like burning coal.
The Rogue King.
His presence smothered everything. The cries of the girls. The pain of her bruises. The echo of hope she had buried beneath years of silence.
He was taller than she remembered, broader too—but the scar down his cheek was the same. So was the wicked gleam in his eye.
Aira's breath came in small, silent bursts.
He killed her mother.
That night… the fire… the screams…
Her mother's blood soaked into the snow. Her small hands pressed to a round, lifeless belly that would never get to know the world.
The unborn siblings she never met.
He took it all.
Rage flickered inside her chest like a broken match.
But rage meant nothing here. Not in this dungeon. Not against him.
One by one, he examined the girls, cold and calculating. Like cattle.
He didn't find what he was looking for.
Not until…
His gaze landed on her.
The second their eyes met, she felt it—the shift in the air, the ancient tether humming beneath her skin.
Her heart thundered. Her blood howled.
Unwillingly, unknowingly, her aura flared—not golden like hope, but a deep, dangerous red. The color of warning. The color of war.
He stepped toward her.
Slow.
Measured.
Predator.
Aira tried to shrink into the wall, but the chains kept her grounded. She couldn't move.
He crouched down, eyes never leaving hers. He reached out, fingers ice cold, and cupped her face.
Her body went rigid, her breath frozen in her lungs.
"I have been waiting for you," he whispered, voice soft like a lullaby twisted with death.
"Little wolf."
Tears welled in her eyes, not from pain—but fear.
She wanted someone—anyone—to come crashing through that door. To save her. To scream her name.
But no one came.
There was no rescue.
No brother. No best friend. No mate.
Only her.
Alone. Shackled. Terrified.
Will he kill me now?
But deep down… she knew he wouldn't.
Death wasn't what he wanted.
Aira bit down on her tongue to keep from sobbing.
She had to be strong.
She had to survive.
For her mother. For her siblings. For revenge.
But right now… in this very moment…She was just a terrified girl in a cage—staring into the eyes of a monster.
And he was smiling.