Aarini didn't scream when the wolf appeared at the foot of her bed.
She couldn't.
Because it wasn't just any wolf—
its eyes were the same silver as the voice inside her mind.
Aarini jolted awake, breathless, heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Her room was dark…
quiet…
and cold.
Too cold.
Her blanket slipped from her fingers as she pushed herself up.
Then she saw it.
A giant wolf—its fur shimmering like moonlit snow—stood silently in the corner of her bedroom. Massive, powerful, unreal. The very air bent around it like the universe bowed in respect.
Its eyes glowed silver.
The same silver that had claimed her.
Aarini's breath froze in her lungs.
"No…" she whispered. "You can't be—"
The wolf lowered its head, gaze locked onto her wrist—the glowing mark she'd tried and failed to scrub off. A rumbling growl vibrated through the room, not threatening… but territorial.
Possessive.
Claiming.
Aarini backed up until her spine hit the headboard.
"You're not real. This is a dream. A halluc—"
The wolf stepped forward once, silent as a shadow.
Her voice died.
Because as it moved, the air shifted… and the wolf melted—its body dissolving into swirling silver mist.
The mist twisted
…gathered
…formed a shape
…and solidified into a tall, terrifyingly beautiful man with silver hair and storm-dark eyes.
The man she heard last night.
He stood in her bedroom in nothing but a cloak of moonlight.
Lycandros.
The Silver Wolf King.
His presence was suffocating—ancient, powerful, inhumanly still.
Aarini's lips parted in fear.
"You—You can't be here. This is my home!"
His eyes softened. Only a little.
"Where my bride sleeps, I appear."
His voice was low, velvet, and lethal.
Aarini shook her head wildly.
"I'm not your bride! I don't belong to anyone—"
In a heartbeat, he was in front of her.
She felt the warmth of his breath.
The shadow of his power.
The raw, dangerous devotion in his eyes.
"Aarini Shah," he murmured, tilting her chin up with one cold fingertip,
"the moon has bound our souls. You can deny fate, but fate will not deny you."
Her heart hammered so loudly she thought he heard it.
Lycandros leaned closer.
"And I never lose what is mine."
Aarini's voice trembled.
"What do you want from me?"
He didn't blink. Didn't look away.
"Everything."
Her breath caught.
Because behind his cold, impossible beauty…
Aarini saw something else.
Not cruelty.
Not hunger.
But desperation—
as if losing her would shatter him into dust.
Before she could speak, the window shattered with a violent BOOM.
A dark figure leapt in—cloaked, masked, carrying a blade forged from black fire.
A blade aimed straight at her.
Aarini screamed as the assassin lunged—
but Lycandros was faster.
In one blur of silver, he stood between her and death, eyes blazing like burning moons.
The Wolf King growled—a sound so furious the walls shook.
"Touch her… and die."