KODA'S POV
I stared at my father across the long dining table, rage building inside me with each word he spoke. The hall was dimly lit by torches that cast dancing shadows across his face, making him look even more demonic than usual.
"Twenty Lunas," he said, slicing into his meat with precise movements. "Twenty territories ready to bow to us."
"This is madness," I replied, pushing my plate away. "You can't force women to compete for marriage. We're not animals."
My father laughed, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "We are wolves, son. The strongest survive. That's the law of nature."
I gripped my goblet so hard I thought it might shatter in my hand. "I won't be part of this. Find another way to secure your alliances."
"This isn't about alliances," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone I knew too well. "This is about power. About showing every territory that the Lamia pack takes what it wants."
The servants moved silently around us, filling wine cups and replacing dishes. They kept their eyes down, knowing better than to acknowledge the tension in the room.
"And what about what I want?" I challenged. "Did you ever consider that?"
My father wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin and smiled. "You want to be king someday, don't you? This is how kings are made. Through displays of dominance."
"Not through forcing women to kill each other," I countered.
He leaned forward then, his eyes glinting with malice. "They won't have to kill each other... unless they choose to."
The way he said it made my blood run cold. "What do you mean?"
"I've ordered the guards to leave the camp unattended tonight," he said casually, like he was discussing the weather. "No protection. No rules. Just twenty desperate women who all want the same prize. You."
I stood up so quickly my chair toppled backward. "You're setting them up for slaughter."
"I'm weeding out the weak," he corrected. "By morning, we'll have half the number, maybe less. Only the strongest, most cunning will survive. Isn't that the kind of Luna you want by your side?"
"I want no part of this," I growled, turning to leave. "Those woman are not here for me, they are here for their people… their kingdom!"
"Sit down," he ordered, his voice like steel. "You haven't been dismissed."
I remained standing, my back to him, fighting the instinct to obey.
"If you interfere," he continued, his tone almost conversational, "I'll consider it a direct challenge to my rule. You know the punishment for that."
Death. The punishment was death, even for the prince.
I turned slowly to face him. "You would kill your own son?"
"I would eliminate any threat to my power," he replied. "Even you."
We stared at each other across the hall, the silence stretching between us like a physical thing.
"Now," he said, lifting his goblet. "Sit down and finish your meal. We have much to discuss about tomorrow's first challenge."
I righted my chair and sat, my mind racing. I couldn't openly defy him, not yet. But I couldn't let innocent women slaughter each other either.
"Tell me about the Lunas," I said, forcing myself to sound neutral. "Where are they from?"
My father's expression shifted to one of smug satisfaction. He thought he'd won. "All territories we've conquered over the past year. The most interesting is the Whitewater princess. Her name is Ayasha, I believe. She was the one who inspired this little challenge."
My heart skipped at the name. I had heard of Whitewater—a peaceful territory known for its clear rivers and diplomatic ties. We had no quarrel with them until my father decided he wanted their land.
"What makes her interesting?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
"She watched me kill her brother," he said, smiling at the memory. "Offered herself in marriage to save her people. She has fire in her eyes, that one. Hatred. It will be fascinating to see how far she'll go to win."
I felt sick. My father took pleasure in breaking people, in watching them compromise their principles to survive. It was how he ruled—through fear and pain rather than respect.
"I need some air," I said, standing again.
This time, he waved his hand in dismissal. "Go. But remember, the camp is off-limits tonight. Let nature take its course."
I nodded stiffly and left the hall, my steps growing faster until I was practically running through the fortress corridors. Outside, the night air was cool against my face, but it did nothing to calm the turmoil inside me.
The Lunas' camp was visible from the fortress walls—a cluster of tents set up in the clearing below. Even from this distance, I could sense the tension, the fear. These women had been thrust into a nightmare not of their making.
I couldn't save them all. Not without directly challenging my father. But maybe I could help one or two or three or four, steer them to safety until morning.
I took a hidden path down from the fortress, one I'd discovered years ago during my attempts to escape my father's cruelty even if only for just a few hours. The guards never patrolled it, making it perfect for my clandestine mission.
I reached the edge of the forest just as chaos erupted in the camp. Screams pierced the night, followed by the orange glow of flames. My father had been right—they were killing each other, driven by desperation and fear.
I moved silently through the shadows, watching in horror. Women who had probably never held a weapon were fighting with savage intensity. Others ran, seeking escape, only to be cut down from behind.
Then I saw her. A woman with determination in her stance, trying to reach the forest's edge. She moved with purpose, with strength. But another woman was pursuing her, blade raised for a killing blow.
I watched the first woman fall, then rise again, fighting with a dagger that seemed too small against her opponent's sword. She won the upper hand briefly, knocking her attacker unconscious rather than killing her.
Mercy. In the midst of this brutality, she had shown mercy.
I moved closer, drawn by something I couldn't name. Then I smelled her. The scent was akin to the earth and wildflowers and something uniquely her own. The scent felt like a tug in the guts, the good kind, making my heart race and my wolf stir beneath my skin.
Mate. The word echoed in my mind, clear and undeniable.
I watched in horror as her attacker regained consciousness and went for her again. Without thinking, I rushed forward, disabling the attacker with a swift blow.
When I turned to look at the woman I'd saved, time seemed to stop. Her eyes were wide, her breathing rapid. She was beautiful—not in the soft, pampered way of noblewomen, but in the fierce, determined way of a survivor.
"Who are you?" she demanded, still clutching her dagger.
I could smell her recognition, see the widening of her eyes as her wolf recognized mine. She felt it too—the mate bond snapping into place between us like a physical tether.
"Mate," she whispered, the word so soft I almost missed it.
It was then I noticed the embroidered hem of her cloak, the distinct silvery threads forming a crest I knew too well. Two crescent moons flanking a waterfall. Whitewater. Only their seamstresses stitched that emblem by hand, and only their royalty wore that shade of storm blue.
In that moment, I knew I couldn't tell her who I really was. If she knew I was Koda, son of the monster who had killed her brother, she would hate me on principle. The bond between us would be poisoned before it had a chance to grow.
"We need to go. Now," I said, glancing around at the chaos.
She hesitated, asking about the others, about who I was.
"Someone who doesn't agree with this slaughter," I replied, the truth but not the whole truth. "Will you come with me, or die here?"
She studied me, conflict clear in her eyes. But the sounds of death all around us made her decision for her.
"Fine," she said. "Lead the way."
I guided her into the forest, hyper-aware of her presence behind me, of her scent mingling with mine. When she asked my name, I hesitated only briefly.
"Riven," I said, giving her the name I used when I needed to escape my identity as the prince. It was my mother's family name, the only part of her I had left.
"I'm Ayasha," she replied.
Ayasha. The Whitewater princess. My father's prized captive. My destined mate.
Fate had a sick sense of humor.
I led her deep into the forest, to a place where the screams couldn't reach us. I watched her curl up against a tree, exhaustion finally catching up to her.
"Rest," I said gently. "I'll keep watch."
"I don't think I can sleep," she whispered, but her eyelids were already drooping.
"You need to," I told her. "Tomorrow will test you in ways you cannot imagine."
"Be honest, why did you save me?" she asked, fighting sleep.
I considered my answer carefully. "Because you showed mercy when you didn't have to. That's rare in this world. Rarer still in Lamia territory."
She fell asleep before she could ask more questions, which was just as well. I had no good answers to give her.
I watched over her through the night, my mind a battlefield of conflicting emotions. By the laws of our kind, she was my mate—the one person meant for me above all others. But she was also my enemy, a woman who had every reason to hate me and my bloodline.
And tomorrow, she would learn who I really was. The son of the man who had murdered her brother. The prince she was being forced to compete for.
I looked at her sleeping form, peaceful despite everything. I didn't deserve her. But I would protect her if I could, even from my father's cruelty.
When morning came, I knew I had to return to the fortress before my absence was noticed. I hated leaving her, but it was safer this way. For both of us.
"Will I see you again?" she asked when I told her I needed to go.
The question pierced my heart. "Of course," I replied softly. "Sooner than you think."
I disappeared into the trees before she could see the truth in my eyes. Before she could guess that "Riven" and Koda were one and the same.
Before she could hate me for the lies I'd already told and the ones that were yet to come.