The towering spires of Harald Dyre's palace loomed against the storm-laden sky, their jagged silhouettes cutting through the clouds like claws. Asis stood at the arched window of her gilded prison, her fingers pressed against the cold glass, watching the distant flicker of torches along the fortress walls. Three days had passed since Harald had dragged her here.
Three days of suffocating opulence, of whispered reverence from the Lycan court, of his relentless, smoldering gaze that followed her like a shadow. She was not a queen. She would never be.
The door creaked open behind her, and she didn't need to turn to know it was him. The air thickened with his presence, the scent of pine and storm-washed earth wrapping around her like an unspoken claim. "You haven't eaten," Harald said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the stone floor.
Asis didn't move. "I'm not hungry." A tray clattered onto the table, silver dishes laden with spiced meats, honeyed fruits, and steaming bread. The Lycan King's idea of a peace offering. "You'll weaken yourself," he said, stepping closer. "And I won't have my Luna Queen fainting in front of the court." Her jaw tightened. "I told you. I'm not your Luna Queen!"
A growl slipped from his throat, and suddenly he was there, his chest pressing against her back, his hands braced on either side of the window, caging her in. "You are," he murmured, his breath hot against her ear. "Whether you accept it or not, the Moon Goddess bound you to me. And I won't give up what's mine."
She whirled, shoving against his chest. "I'm not a thing to be owned!"
Harald caught her wrists, his grip firm but not painful. "Then stop acting like a prisoner," he snapped. "You have the run of the palace. The guards obey you. The servants treat you as their queen. Yet you act as if these walls are strangling you."
"Because they are!" Her voice cracked. "You took me away from my life."
"To keep you alive!" His roar shook the room, his eyes blazing gold. "Sorin's allies won't stop coming for you. The vampires are already rallying under a new emperor, Vlad Calin. He butchered an entire pack at our borders two nights ago. Their blood is on your hands as much as mine if you refuse to see reason."
The accusation struck like a blade. She recoiled, her stomach twisting. "That's not fair."
"No," he agreed, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But it's the truth."
Silence stretched between them, taut as a bowstring. Then, with a frustrated exhale, Harald released her and strode to the door. "Eat," he ordered. "The Royal Council demands an audience tonight. They'll test you. Provoke you. Do not give them the satisfaction of seeing you break." The door slammed behind him, leaving Asis alone with the weight of his words.
*****
The Royal Council chamber was a cavernous hall of black marble and gilded thrones, lit by torches that cast flickering shadows across the faces of the Lycan elders. Harald sat at the center, his throne raised above the rest, his expression unreadable. Asis stood before them, her spine straight, her borrowed gown—deep blue velvet edged in silver—too heavy, too regal, too much like a costume.
Elder Varys, a grizzled wolf with a scar bisecting his brow, was the first to speak. "So this is the human who would be our Luna Queen." His lip curled. "She smells like Averse."
"She smells of nothing but herself," Harald countered, his voice icy. "And you will address her with respect." Elder Mirela, a sharp-eyed woman with silver-streaked hair, leaned forward. "Tell us, girl—do you even understand what it means to be mated to an Alpha King? The power you hold? The target on your back?"
Asis met her gaze. "I understand that I didn't ask for this." A murmur rippled through the council. Elder Dain, the youngest but most venomous of the group, smirked. "And yet here you are. A human among wolves. A weakness in our Kingdom." Harald's growl silenced the room. "Enough."
But Dain wasn't finished. He rose, circling Asis like prey. "There are rumors, Your Majesty. Whispers that she's more than human. That her blood carries… old magic." Asis stiffened. "What are you talking about?"
Mirela's nostrils flared. "You truly don't know?" She gestured to a servant, who hurried forward with an ornate silver bowl. "A simple test, then. A drop of blood will reveal the truth." Harald was on his feet in an instant. "You will not touch her."
But Asis, curiosity overriding caution, snatched the ceremonial dagger from the servant's belt and pricked her finger. A single crimson drop fell into the bowl, and the moment it touched the silver, the metal hissed, glowing red before dissolving into liquid. The council erupted.
"Witchblood!" Varys snarled. Harald's face went pale. "Asis…" She stumbled back, her heart pounding. "No. That's impossible."
But the truth was there, in the elders' horrified stares, in the way the torches flared unnaturally high as her panic spiked. Her grandmother's stories—the ones she'd dismissed as fairy tales—flooded her mind. The charms were tucked under her childhood pillow. The way storms quieted when Nano sang.
She was a witch. And her blood was a death sentence in a kingdom that had hunted their kind for centuries.
*****
The next days passed in a blur of tension and whispered conspiracies. Though Harald's command kept the elders from acting openly, the palace had become a gilded cage lined with teeth. Asis avoided the court, the gardens, even Berit, who watched her now with a mix of awe and pity.
Then came the news: Vlad Calin had struck again. A Lycan patrol near the vampire borders had been slaughtered, their heads mounted on pikes as a message. Harald left at once, taking Anders and half the royal guard with him.
That night, as the moon hung heavy and low, Elder Dain slipped into Asis's chambers. "You don't belong here," he said bluntly. "And you don't want to." She didn't deny it.
"There's a passage in the royal gardens," he murmured. "A hidden path to the forest. Go now, while the king is distracted. Return to your human world."
For a heartbeat, she hesitated. Harald's words echoed in her mind, "You're mine," but so did Nano's voice, soft and sure: "You are your own first, Chandra. Always." Asis took the cloak Dain offered and ran.
The gardens were eerily quiet, the scent of night-blooming jasmine thick in the air. She found the hidden gate, its rusted hinges groaning as she pushed through and collided with a chest clad in black armor.
A vampire smiled down at her, his fangs glinting in the moonlight. "Hello, my little witch." And as his cold hands closed around her arms, Asis realized too late: Dain hadn't been helping her escape. He'd been delivering her to the enemy.
*****