Chapter 4: The King's Property
The war horns of the Silver Moon Pack blasted through the night, a harsh, jagged sound that scraped against the silence of the Obsidian Citadel.
Elara stood by the window of the King's chamber, her fingers clutching the cold stone sill. Down below, at the massive iron gates, she could see the flickering torches of a hunting party. There were at least twenty of them—the elite warriors she used to serve dinner to. And in the front, sitting on a massive grey wolf, was Kaelen.
"He came for me," Elara whispered. Her heart gave a traitorous thud. Not of love, but of pure, cold terror.
"He didn't come for you," Malakai's voice rumbled from the shadows behind her.
He was fully dressed now, wearing a black leather tunic that hugged his massive chest and heavy boots that sounded like thunder on the floor. He stepped up behind her, his heat wrapping around her like a physical barrier.
"He came because he thinks I stole his toy," Malakai said, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that looked heavy enough to split a mountain. "A man like Kaelen doesn't care about a mate. He only cares about his pride."
"He'll kill me, Malakai," she said, turning to look at him. "If he takes me back, I won't make it to the morning. My step-mother already gave the order."
Malakai reached out, his large hand cupping her cheek. His thumb traced the line of her jaw, and for a second, the gold in his eyes glowed so bright it looked like liquid fire.
"Look at me, Elara," he commanded.
She looked up, lost in the sheer power of his gaze.
"No one takes what is mine," he said. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a weight that made the very air in the room vibrate. "Not a god. Not a ghost. And certainly not a boy playing Alpha in the mud."
He grabbed a heavy black fur cloak from the bed and draped it over her shoulders. It was twice her size, smelling of cedar and the King's intoxicating scent.
"Stay behind me," he said. "And don't say a word unless I tell you to. I want him to see what he threw away."
They walked out of the room and down the winding stone stairs. Every Lycan warrior they passed dropped to one knee, their heads bowed in total submission. Elara felt the shift in the air. In her old pack, she was the one kneeling. Here, because she was with the King, the world bowed to her.
They reached the main gate. The iron bars were glowing red from the heat of the torches outside.
"Open the gate," Malakai ordered.
"Sire?" the guard hesitated. "There are twenty of them, and they are armed."
"I didn't ask for a headcount," Malakai growled. "Open. The. Gate."
The heavy iron groaned as it swung open. The cold wind of the forest rushed in, smelling of pine and the sour, familiar scent of the Silver Moon wolves.
Kaelen stood there, his hazel eyes narrowed in the torchlight. When he saw Elara, his lip curled into a sneer of pure hatred. He didn't even look at Malakai at first.
"There you are, you little traitor," Kaelen spat. He stepped forward, his hand reaching for the whip at his belt. "Do you have any idea the mess you've caused? Running off into the King's woods like a common rogue? Get over here before I decide to skip the exile and just kill you where you stand."
Elara felt the old fear clawing at her throat. Her legs trembled. She wanted to run. She wanted to hide.
But then, a massive arm stepped in front of her.
Malakai moved with the speed of a strike of lightning. He didn't just stand in front of her; he loomed over the entire hunting party like a god of war.
"You're shouting on my doorstep, little pup," Malakai said. His voice was smooth, like silk over a razor blade. "It's giving me a headache."
Kaelen blinked, finally looking at the man holding Elara. He blinked again, his face turning a strange shade of grey as he realized who he was looking at. He saw the crown of scars. He saw the gold eyes. He saw the black Lycan crest on Malakai's chest.
"King... King Malakai," Kaelen stammered, his bravado vanishing instantly. He bowed his head, but it was forced and awkward. "I... I didn't realize she had made it this far. The girl is a servant from my pack. She's an omega. She broke our laws and ran. I've come to take her back for punishment."
"An omega?" Malakai asked, tilting his head. He looked back at Elara, then back at Kaelen. "That's strange. Because all I see is a woman you were too weak to keep."
"She's my property!" Kaelen snapped, his jealousy overcoming his fear. "The Goddess gave her to me! Even if I rejected her, she belongs to the Silver Moon until I say otherwise!"
"Property?" Elara whispered. The word hit her like a physical blow.
She stepped out from behind Malakai's shadow. Her voice was shaking, but her eyes were cold.
"I am not a chair, Kaelen," she said, her voice growing stronger. "I am not a dog you can kick and then call back when you're lonely. You rejected me. You broke the bond. You threw me into the mud to die."
"Shut up, Elara!" Kaelen roared, his hazel eyes flashing with Alpha power. "I am your Alpha! I command you to come here!"
He used his "Alpha Tone," a magical command that usually forced any lower wolf to obey. Elara felt the weight of it. It felt like an invisible hand was pushing her toward the gate, trying to force her to her knees.
"Go on," Malakai murmured, watching her closely. He didn't stop the command. He wanted to see what she would do.
Elara felt her knees buckle. The Alpha command was a heavy chain pulling at her soul. Obey. Obey. Obey.
No, a voice whispered deep inside her. A voice that sounded like a thousand silver bells. We do not bow to dogs.
Something snapped inside Elara. It wasn't the bond this time. It was a seal.
A sudden, blinding heat erupted in her chest. It moved down her arms and into her fingertips. Her eyes, usually a soft violet, suddenly flashed a brilliant, electric silver.
"I..." Elara gasped, her voice sounding deeper, more ancient. "Am... not... yours!"
A wave of silver light exploded outward from her body. It wasn't a physical blast, but a spiritual one. It hit the Silver Moon warriors like a physical wall. Their horses reared back, and the wolves inside the men let out terrified whines.
Kaelen fell off his horse, landing hard in the slush—the exact same way Elara had landed just hours ago.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Malakai stared at her, his gold eyes wide with a mixture of shock and predatory hunger. He had been right. She was a Silver Lycan. A Queen.
Kaelen looked up from the mud, his face pale with horror. "What... what are you?"
"She is the woman who is going to watch you burn," Malakai said, stepping forward. He put a heavy, possessive arm around Elara's waist, pulling her flush against his side.
He looked at the twenty warriors, all of whom were now trembling.
"Go back to your Alpha," Malakai commanded, his Lycan aura filling the entire valley. "Tell him that Elara Vance is no longer a member of the Silver Moon. She is a ward of the Obsidian Citadel. And if I see a single one of your scouts within ten miles of my border..."
He paused, a dark, terrifying smile crossing his face.
"...I will start sending your pack back to the Goddess piece by piece. Starting with your son."
"You can't do this!" Kaelen screamed, scrambling to his feet. "She's a mate-less runt! The Council will hear of this! You're starting a war over a slave!"
"I'm not starting a war over a slave," Malakai said, his voice dropping to a whisper that everyone heard. "I'm starting a war for my Queen. Now run, before I change my mind about letting you live."
Kaelen looked at Elara one last time. He saw the silver light fading from her eyes. He saw the way she was leaning into the King—the man he could never hope to beat.
"You'll regret this, Elara!" he yelled as he jumped onto his horse. "He'll tire of you! And when he throws you out, I'll be waiting!"
The hunting party turned and fled into the dark woods, their torches disappearing like dying embers.
Elara stood there, her body shaking as the adrenaline began to leave her. The silver heat in her chest cooled, leaving her feeling empty and exhausted. She would have fallen if Malakai hadn't been holding her.
"I did it," she whispered. "I stopped his command."
"You did more than that, little silver," Malakai said. He turned her to face him, his hands gripping her shoulders. He looked at her with an intensity that made her breath hitch. "You just showed the world that the true Queen has returned."
"What does that mean?" she asked.
"It means every Alpha in this territory is going to come for your head," Malakai said. He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. "And it means I'm going to have to kill every single one of them to keep you."
"Are you afraid?" she asked.
Malakai let out a low, dark chuckle. "Afraid? Elara, I've been waiting a hundred years for a reason to burn this world down. You just gave me the match."
Suddenly, a loud crash came from the top of the Citadel walls. A gargoyle, carved from heavy stone, fell and shattered right at their feet.
Attached to the stone was a piece of parchment, pinned with a black dagger.
Malakai picked it up, his face turning into a mask of pure fury as he read the words.
"What is it?" Elara asked, her heart sinking.
Malakai handed her the note. It was written in blood.
"The King's pet belongs to the Shadows. Give her to us, or the Citadel falls by sunrise."