The scent of blood clung to the wind, sharp and metallic.
Lara's blade arced through the air, catching a rogue across the chest. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her muscles trembling from exertion, but she did not falter. In her human form, she fought with the strength of two werewolvesn. Her swordsmanship was unparalleled, each movement fluid and instinctive, her strikes precise as lightning.
Still, she was tiring. More were turning up. Too many. Too fast.
The rogues closed in; twisted remnants of wolves long lost to darkness. One lunged. She ducked. Another charged. She spun, blade meeting flesh. But just as she struck one down, pain lanced through her side. A claw. Too deep.
She staggered, vision blurring.
Then there was a roar.
Deafening. Dominant. Alpha.
Through the haze, she glimpsed him: a towering figure wreathed in shadows and moonlight. Eyes gold as fire, his body was half-man, half-beast, majestic and terrifying.
He moved like a force of nature. Rogues dropped around him like leaves in a storm. His claws tore through them with precision, his presence demanding submission.
Her legs gave out.
The last thing she saw was the stranger's glowing gaze locking with hers and the soft brush of his hand as he caught her before she hit the ground.
....
Thornak's pov
The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
Thornak Stormbite, Lycan King of Vargorath Kingdom crouched low behind a ridge of mossy stone, his sharp eyes scanning the canopy above. His breath formed clouds in the cold air, and every muscle in his body was poised to strike.
He was a vision of both grace and savagery. Tall and broad-shouldered, his body sculpted by years of war and wilderness. Nonetheless he was an epitome of perfection. Silver-streaked black hair hung loose around his face, and his jawline was as sharp. His golden eyes, fierce and glowing faintly in the dark, didn't miss a thing. His presence radiated command, power, and barely restrained fury.
Beside him, his younger brother Kael muttered, "You know, this was supposed to be a quick hunt."
"And now it's interesting," Thorn replied, voice low and calm but alert. His senses prickled. Something wasn't right.
Behind them, Dain, his Beta and oldest friend, crept up silently. "Smell that?"
Thorn inhaled.
Blood. Fear. Wolves.
And something else.
Something electric. Wild. Familiar in a way that made his bones ache.
Kael's brow furrowed. "You feel that, don't you?"
Thorn didn't answer. His chest tightened, a strange surge rising inside him - foreign, powerful. His heartbeat quickened, not from fear... but recognition.
Then he saw her.
Across the clearing, past the trees and moonlight veils there was movement. Blades flashing. Shadows circling. And in the middle of it all, her. A lone warrior, human but not. She was wielding a sword like it was an extension of her soul, fighting with a ferocity he'd never seen. and even as her body bled, she didn't fall, rather she moved like fury itself.
Thorn's heart slammed in his chest.
Time paused.
"By the Ancients..." Dain whispered. "She's..."
"Mine," Thorn growled.
He didn't wait.
But just before he sprang, an image flashed through his mind, his mother's face twisted in disapproval, voice sharp as always.
"You are the King. You do not chase shadows in the woods. You find a Queen with power, status, and ties to strengthen our rule."
He had laughed bitterly at the time. "You mean a pawn."
"I mean a woman who understands legacy."
"Then she won't understand me."
He had left her court in fury that day, sick of arranged meetings, sick of being a title and not a man.
And now here he was, his heart slamming in his chest, fate crackling like thunder through his blood, staring at the woman fate had clearly chosen for him.
Thornak didn't hesitate.
He moved, a blur of silver and death.
The moment a rogue lunged at her exposed back, Thorn moved like death itself.
With a growl that shook the trees, he collided with the rogue mid-air, snapping bone and sending the creature flying.
He landed in front of her, blood steaming on his claws, his massive form shielding her from the rest.
He turned his head just enough to look at her, really look at her.
Her eyes were wide with shock, her lips had blood at the corner.
Beautiful and brave.
His voice came out as a snarl. "No one touches what's mine."
A while later the clearing was still, the scent of blood heavy in the cold air.
Thornak stood in the center, broad-shouldered and silent, golden eyes locked on the unconscious woman lying in the snow. She was covered in bruises and blood, her cloak torn, sword still gripped loosely in one hand.
"She fought them... a human," Kael said slowly, stepping up beside him. "Gods, Thorn. She tore through them like she wanted to die standing."
Thorn remained quiet, his gaze never leaving her as he knelt beside her brushing her golden hair from her face.
Dain crouched beside him, "she is not a Lycan."
"She is a human," Thorn replied immediately. And Jax his lycan growled ... "I am taking her home."
Kael exhaled. "If your mother finds out you brought home a human....."
"You know how Queen Maravelle feels about humans." Dain finished grimly.
Thorn's jaw clenched. "I don't care what she thinks."
"Thorn...."
"I don't care," he snapped, eyes blazing. "She's my mate. My woman. I'll protect her with everything I have."
There was a beat of silence as his words dawned on them. This woman was his mate.
Then Kael muttered, "Wow, mother's going to have a heart attack."
Dain cracked a small smile. "You have got a war on your hands."
Thorn brushed a bit of dried blood from her temple. "I've never backed down from a war."
He picked her up in his arms.
---
The doors of the throne room slammed open with a gust of icy wind.
Queen Maravelle Stormbite sat upright on the raised dais, framed by high, arched windows that spilled moonlight across the polished obsidian floor. The throne room was vast and cold, carved from blackstone and rimmed with silver filigree. Ancient banners hung like silent witnesses to the legacy of the Stormbite line.
The King's throne in Vargorath is a masterpiece of power and primal elegance. Carved from dark obsidian and veined with silver, the throne rises like a jagged mountain beside the dais, each edge sharp and commanding. Intricate symbols of the Moon Goddess and ancient Lycan lore are etched into the stone, glowing faintly when touched by moonlight. The high back fans out like the spread wings of a beast mid-roar, and two sleek wolf heads are carved into the arms-one snarling, the other calm.
Queen Maravelle's silver hair was braided into an elegant crown atop her head, her cloak of deep sapphire velvet shimmering with runes of power. Her pale skin seemed carved from moonlight, but it was her eyes-ice-blue and piercing-that held the true power. She narrowed them as Thornak strode in, a storm of blood and shadow in his black leather cloak.
Kael followed at his side, sharp-eyed and defiant, boots echoing beside his brother's. Their twin sisters were already seated near the dais: Iris, in a soft blush gown, kind-eyed and bright as spring; Jasmine, dressed in deep navy, serious and quiet, her gaze as unwavering as ever.
"What is the meaning of this?" Maravelle's voice rang like steel. "You storm into the castle in the dead of night, blood on your clothes, and lock yourself in your chambers with a strange woman? The guards say no one is allowed near. Not even me."
"I gave that order," Thorn said, as he sat on his throne, his tone calm but resolute. "She's under my protection."
Maravelle rose, cloak sweeping around her like a tide. "Who is she, Thornak? A rogue? A spy? Or another foolish charity case you dragged in from the woods?"
"She's my mate although I don't want this information to leave this room for now."
Gasps echoed through the room.
"Oh, that's rich," came the familiar drawl from near a pillar. Prince Aedric Stormbite, their cousin, leaned casually against the marble column, dark curls tousled and a smirk stitched permanently to his face.
Iris's hand flew to her chest, her eyes wide with shock. Jasmine simply blinked, her stare sharp as ever.
For a moment, Maravelle said nothing. Then a smile curled at the corners of her lips, soft but calculating. "Your mate... at last," she said. "The Goddess has finally blessed you. I've waited years for this."
Relief flickered through Thornak's eyes-until Maravelle continued.
"But if she is no one, Thornak... if she has no lineage, no strength, no history-" her smile turned thin, "-then she will not be fit to rule by your side. The people would never accept a nameless girl as their queen. You will have to do what is best for the kingdom."
"I know what's best for the kingdom," he growled.
"I disagree," she replied coolly. "You may feel the bond, but duty does not bend for love. If she is unworthy, you will reject her."
Thorn's jaw clenched.
"I will not see the throne weakened by sentiment," Maravelle said. "If it comes to that, you will take Lady Selene as your queen. She is noble-born, powerful, and ready to stand at your side. What was she doing alone in the woods, Thornak? Do you even know?"
"She is my mate regardless. I will find out everything" he said, the words like iron. "but she stays."
Maravelle's expression froze for a moment before softening again. "Then prove she's worthy. Or choose Selene."
Kael stepped forward. "You weren't there. I saw her. She fought, bleeding, and still didn't stop. She's not some frightened villager."
"She might also not be cut out to be the Queen" Maravelle snapped.
"She is now," Thornak said. "If the Goddess marked her for me, then she belongs here. And I will protect her with my life."
Maravelle didn't respond, but her silence was no longer cold. It was thoughtful. Calculating.
As Thorn turned to leave, Aedric leaned toward the queen, whispering with a grin, "This is going to be so much fun."
"Aedric find out who she is, I don't want any surprises."