They lock me in a room that's bigger than anywhere I've ever lived.
Silk sheets. Marble floors. Windows overlooking gardens that probably cost more to maintain than I've earned in my entire life.
I hate it.
I'm pacing when the door opens. No knock. Just Damon walking in like he owns the place.
He does own the place.
"You need to eat." He's carrying a tray. Sets it on the table. Bread, meat, fruit. Real food.
My stomach growls. Traitor.
"I'm not hungry."
"You're starving. I can feel it through the bond." He sits, starts eating an apple. "Sit down."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"Sit. Down." There's Alpha command in his voice. My wolf responds before I can stop her, pulling me toward the chair.
I sit because fighting it makes my head hurt.
"Good girl."
"Don't call me that."
He smirks. "Eat."
I grab bread because I am starving and pride doesn't fill an empty stomach. It's fresh, warm, better than anything I've had in weeks.
Damon watches me eat. It's unnerving.
"What?" I snap.
"Trying to figure you out."
"I'm nobody. Nothing to figure out."
"You're bonded to three Princes. That makes you somebody whether you like it or not." He leans forward. "So I'll ask once. Are you working for someone?"
"What?"
"The timing's convenient. We're at a festival, guards are distracted, and suddenly a rogue appears who happens to be mate to all three heirs?" His eyes narrow. "Sounds like a setup."
"I was stealing food, not plotting treason."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"Tell me about yourself. Real answers this time." He's not smiling now. "Where are you from?"
"North. Small pack near the mountains."
"Name?"
"Doesn't matter. They're gone."
"Gone how?"
I set down the bread. "Wiped out. Rival pack attacked five years ago. I survived because I was hiding." The words taste like ash. "Everyone else died."
Something flickers in his expression. "You were alone at sixteen?"
"Seventeen. And yes."
"How'd you survive?"
"Stealing. Mostly. Some odd jobs when I could pass as pack." I meet his eyes. "I'm good at being invisible."
"Not anymore." He stands. Walks around the table. Stops close enough that I have to tilt my head back. "You're bonded to us now. That means every wolf in the kingdom is going to know your face."
"I don't want that."
"Too bad." His hand comes up, catches my chin. The touch sends heat through me. His eyes flash gold. "You feel that?"
"Yes."
"That's the bond. It's going to get stronger. More intense. Until being apart from us physically hurts." His thumb brushes my jaw. "So you need to decide right now if you're going to fight this or accept it."
I pull away even though my wolf whines. "I'll never accept this."
"Then you're going to be miserable." He walks to the door. Pauses. "Dinner's at seven. Someone will come get you. Wear something appropriate."
"I don't have anything appropriate."
"Check the closet."
He leaves.
I check the closet. It's full of dresses. Expensive ones. All in my size.
How did they know my size?
I pick the simplest one. Black, long sleeves, high neck. Still feels wrong.
At seven exactly, there's a knock.
Kieran's on the other side, grinning. "Ready for round two?"
"No."
"Too bad. Come on." He offers his arm.
I don't take it.
He shrugs, starts walking. I follow because what choice do I have?
"So," he says. "Damon interrogate you yet?"
"Is that what that was?"
"He's paranoid. Thinks everyone's plotting against him." Kieran glances at me. "Are you?"
"Plotting? No. I can barely figure out what's happening."
"Fair." We turn down another corridor. "For what it's worth, I believe you. You don't have the face of a schemer."
"What kind of face do I have?"
"Survivor." He says it simply. "Someone who's seen bad things and kept going anyway."
I wasn't expecting that. "And you?"
"Me? I'm the family disappointment." He flashes that smile. "Third son. No real responsibilities. I mostly drink, gamble, and seduce inappropriate she-wolves."
"Sounds exhausting."
"It is. But someone has to do it." We reach a door. He opens it without knocking. "After you."
The dining room is smaller than I expected. One table. Three chairs occupied.
Damon at the head. Caius to his right. And across from Caius, a she-wolf I've never seen.
She's beautiful. Perfect. Everything I'm not. Silver hair, violet eyes, a dress that probably costs more than a house.
She looks at me and smiles. It's not friendly.
"So this is her." She stands. Circles me like I'm something to be examined. "The rogue who trapped three Princes."
"I didn't trap anyone."
"Of course you didn't." She stops in front of me. "I'm Celeste. Damon's intended."
The words hit like a punch.
"My what?" Damon's voice is cold.
"Don't pretend, darling." Celeste touches his shoulder. Possessive. "Our families have been planning our union since we were children."
"That was before the bond."
"The bond." She laughs. It's not a nice sound. "With a rogue. How romantic." Her eyes find mine again. "Tell me, what's your family name?"
"I don't have one."
"Your pack?"
"Dead."
"Your accomplishments?"
"Surviving."
"How impressive." She sits in the chair I was supposed to take. "Surely you see this is a mistake. You don't belong here."
"I know that."
"Then leave."
"I can't."
"Because of the bond?" She waves a hand. "Bonds can be broken. Rejected. All it takes is will."
"I tried. It almost killed me."
"Maybe you didn't try hard enough."
"Celeste." Caius's voice cuts through. "You weren't invited to dinner."
"I invited myself." She smiles at him. "Surely you're not going to throw me out."
"I should."
"But you won't. Because our families are allies. And you need allies right now." She looks at me again. "Especially with this complication."
Damon stands. "Get out."
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Get out before I have guards remove you."
Celeste's smile disappears. "You're choosing her over me?"
"I'm not choosing anything. The Moon Goddess chose. Now leave."
For a second I think she's going to argue. Then she stands, smooths her dress. "This isn't over."
She sweeps out.
The door slams.
Silence.
"Well," Kieran says. "That was fun."
"Sit." Damon pulls out the chair Celeste left. Looks at me. "Eat."
I sit because standing feels impossible.
Servants bring food. I barely taste it.
"That's going to happen a lot," Caius says quietly. "She-wolves who thought they had a claim. Families who wanted alliances. They're all going to see you as a threat."
"I'm not a threat. I'm just trying to survive."
"In this world, those are the same thing." He's watching me with those pale eyes. "You need to learn to fight back."
"I know how to fight."
"Physical fighting, yes. Political fighting is different."
"Then teach me."
"Why would I do that?"
"Because if I die, you die. The bond goes both ways, remember?"
Something that might be respect crosses his face. "Fair point."
Dinner continues. Uncomfortable silence. I eat because my body needs it. The bond thrums between all of us, constant awareness, their emotions bleeding into mine.
Damon's frustrated. Angry at Celeste, at the situation, at me for existing.
Kieran's amused. Everything is a game to him.
Caius is calculating. Always thinking, always planning.
And I'm terrified.
When dinner ends, Damon stands. "We need to discuss sleeping arrangements."
"I have a room."
"Your room connects to ours. All three of us."
My stomach drops. "What?"
"Royal mates stay close to their bonded," Kieran explains. "It's tradition. Also practical. The bond gets stronger at night. Being too far apart causes pain."
"You're saying I have to sleep near you?"
"Near us, yes. With us, no. Not unless you want to." His grin turns wicked. "Though the offer's always open."
"I'll take my chances with the pain."
"Suit yourself." Damon walks to the door. "But when you're crying from bond-sickness at three in the morning, don't say we didn't warn you."
They leave. All three of them.
I go back to my room. Try the connecting doors. They're unlocked.
Of course they are.
I shove furniture against them anyway.
Then I climb into bed and wait for whatever happens next.
It starts around midnight.
Pain. Sharp, insistent, right in my chest where the bond sits. It builds slowly, then all at once, until I'm gasping.
I last until two before I can't take it anymore.
I open the door to Damon's room.
He's awake. Sitting in a chair by the window like he was waiting.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" he says.
"Yes."
"Come here."
I hesitate.
"I'm not going to touch you. Just being in the same room helps."
He's right. The second I step inside, the pain eases.
I sit on the floor. Back against the wall. Far from him but close enough that the bond settles.
"You should sleep," he says.
"Can't."
"Why?"
"Because if I sleep, I'll forget this is real. And when I wake up, it'll hurt worse."
He's quiet for a long moment. Then: "I didn't want this either."
"I know."
"I had plans. A strategy. I was going to be King, marry someone suitable, rule efficiently." He looks at me. "You destroyed all of that."
"I didn't ask to."
"I know." He stands. Walks over. Sits against the wall beside me. Not touching, just present. "But here we are."
"Here we are."
We sit in silence. The bond hums between us, warm now instead of painful.
And despite everything, I fall asleep.