CHAPTER 3:THE TYRANT’S CURSE

The royal court of Silverclaw Ridge didn’t look like a throne room.

It looked like a hunting ground dressed in silk.

Marble floors. Blood-red banners. Iron chandeliers shaped like open jaws. The whole thing smelled like old money, new power, and violence in high heels.

And standing at the center of it all was me—dressed in borrowed leather, glowing faintly under the eyes of everyone who had a reason to want me dead.

Lucian walked beside me like a shadow. Kade flanked the other side, one hand casually resting near his belt like he was daring someone to come at me.

Eyes followed us. Not friendly ones.

Wolves in human skin filled the chamber—alphas from every corner of the region. Some wore suits. Some wore claws. Most wore expressions like they couldn’t decide whether to fight me or worship me.

At the far end of the hall stood the High Alpha Council.

Six wolves.

All powerful.

All old enough to remember when my bloodline was erased.

And seated just above them, like a crown that bit into your skull, was the Tyrant King himself.

High Alpha Theron Vale.

Lucian’s father.

He didn’t rise when we entered. Didn’t blink. Just stared down at me with eyes like stone and a mouth carved from disapproval.

“You brought her here,” he said to Lucian. His voice echoed. Cold. Final. “Why?”

Lucian didn’t flinch. “Because she is awakening. And because she’s already been marked.”

Murmurs.

Kade snorted. “Yeah, and because your royal spies nearly let her get torn apart by rogues.”

Theron’s eyes shifted to him. “You are not part of this court, Stormborn.”

“I’m not part of any of your messes,” Kade shot back. “But I’m here. That should tell you something.”

“You should watch your tongue.”

“And you should watch your throne,” Kade said, grinning. “Looks a little cracked from this angle.”

Theron stood.

Okay. That? That shut everyone up.

Even Lucian.

“My son’s poor judgment aside,” the High Alpha said, stepping down from the dais, “the girl should not be standing.”

I swallowed.

He stopped two feet from me. Towering. Unsmiling. Reeking of power.

“Raven Blackthorn,” he said like the name itself offended him. “Last of the cursed line. The one the prophecy calls the second moon.”

He circled me like a predator. “Do you understand the risk you pose to every living pack?”

“No,” I said, lifting my chin. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

He sneered. “Your awakening has already triggered unrest. Alphas are forming alliances. Some want to claim you. Others want to kill you. And all of them are right to be afraid.”

“I didn’t ask to be born,” I snapped. “But I’m here. So maybe get over it.”

The court hissed.

Lucian’s lips twitched.

Theron stopped walking.

Then, to my shock, he smiled.

“Oh, she is a Blackthorn.”

He raised his hand.

The court fell silent.

“I hereby invoke the ancient rite,” he said. “The Claiming Trials will begin at the next full moon. Every eligible alpha may submit. The winner will bind the Luna. The rest will yield—or die.”

Gasps.

Lucian stepped forward. “That’s a death sentence.”

Theron turned to him. “Then fight for her. If you’re worthy.”

He looked at me one last time. “Survive, girl. Or you’ll burn this realm down a second time.”

They came in like predators dressed for a masquerade ball.

Five alphas.

All eligible. All dangerous.

All prepared to fight for the Luna mark now blazing silver across my collarbone.

Seraphine, standing at the edge of the council circle like a bored empress, gestured grandly toward the lineup like she was showing off fine wine.

“Behold,” she said with a slow smile. “The future of the packs—or their executioners.”

The first alpha stepped forward, golden-haired and cruelly handsome.

“Alpha Corvin of Bloodpine,” Seraphine said. “Strength. Discipline. Has decapitated three rogue leaders in the past year.”

Corvin gave me a once-over like he was measuring me for a cage.

“She’s smaller than I expected,” he said. “But magic doesn’t need muscle, does it?”

“Touch me and I’ll see how much muscle it takes to melt your face,” I replied sweetly.

Kade snorted. Lucian did not.

The second alpha approached. A redhead with eyes like wildfire and a smile that was all teeth.

“Alpha Vira of Emberreach. Packless by choice. Dual-shifter.”

Oh. Hell. Yes.

A female alpha. Tall. Gorgeous. Deadly.

Vira looked me up and down, then licked her lips.

“I’m not here to claim you,” she said casually. “I’m here to make sure no one unworthy does.”

“That’s... vaguely threatening.”

“Take it as a compliment,” she purred.

The third, fourth, and fifth were a blur of leather, cold gazes, and veiled threats. One was too nice. One was too silent. And one smelled like blood and pine sap.

But the one who stood out—who made every hair on my arms rise—didn’t step forward at all.

He was in the shadows, watching. Hooded. Still.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

Seraphine’s smile thinned. “Alpha Rowan. From the Eastern Reaches.”

“Why’s he hiding?”

“Because he can,” she said. “And because your blood sings when he’s near.”

That was not comforting.

Lucian stepped closer. “You’re not submitting to this farce. You don’t have to.”

“I don’t?” I turned to him. “Because it sounded a lot like ‘fight for your survival or be mated off like a prize sow.’”

Lucian’s eyes darkened. “I won’t let anyone take you.”

“I’m not yours to take either.”

The air snapped between us—electric, heavy, way too charged for comfort.

And then it hit.

A pulse.

From deep inside me.

My mark flared—silver light racing down my veins.

Lucian’s pupils dilated.

So did mine.

Suddenly, I could feel his heartbeat.

Like it was syncing with mine.

Like our souls had started a conversation without telling us.

Lucian sucked in a breath, stepping back. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“What was that?” I asked, chest heaving.

Kade’s voice came from behind me, flat and furious.

“That, princess, was the start of a bond.”

“Don’t look now,” Kade muttered, “but your ‘soul conversation’ just started a war.”

We were in the private hall behind the throne chamber—half glass, half black stone, all silent danger. The moment the bond pulse flared between Lucian and me, the High Alpha Council ended the ceremony fast.

Too many eyes.

Too many threats.

Too much power spiraling out of one girl who still didn’t know the full list of rules she was breaking.

I turned to Lucian. “Explain. Now.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the veins in his neck tight like he wanted to scream but couldn’t. “It wasn’t supposed to happen unless you—unless we were... aligned.”

“That sounds like soulmate bullshit.”

“It is,” Kade said, eyes narrowed. “Only it’s worse when it’s involuntary. Especially with royal blood involved.”

Lucian looked away. “The bond doesn’t mean anything.”

“Oh?” Kade tilted his head. “Then why did you flinch like you felt her heartbeat in your spine?”

I opened my mouth to speak—

And someone else beat me to it.

“You’ll want to get that bond under control, princess,” said a smooth voice behind me, “before it costs you your head.”

I spun.

Vira.

She leaned against the archway like she owned it. Her red curls were coiled into a crown braid, her armor gleaming with magic sigils. Her eyes locked onto mine—not mocking, not even curious. Calculating.

“I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit,” I said.

“I don’t waste time on small talk,” she replied. “Only opportunities.”

She stepped into the room, chin high. “You’re a variable no one accounted for. And that makes you powerful. But also vulnerable.”

Lucian moved between us like instinct. “Back off.”

Vira’s smile widened. “Easy, prince. I’m not here to claim her. I’m here to warn her.”

I narrowed my eyes. “About what?”

Vira leaned in close, her voice just a whisper.

“They’re not afraid of you because of the bond, Raven. They’re afraid because you died once—and came back.”

My stomach dropped.

Vira straightened. “That kind of magic doesn’t fade. It festers.”

Then she was gone.

Vanished like she was never there.

Lucian cursed under his breath. “She shouldn’t know that.”

Kade crossed his arms. “Then maybe someone in your precious royal pack is talking. Or maybe she’s not the only one with a past.”

I turned to him. “You knew too. About me dying.”

He looked away. “Not everything. Just… rumors. Whispers. The kind that make people run.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I ran to you.”

Before I could answer—

A shadow moved from the far end of the hall.

Not approaching. Just… watching.

Lucian froze. Kade straightened.

Rowan.

Hood down now. Hair long, black as ink. Eyes like obsidian—flat and endless and unreadable.

He stepped forward once. His voice was quiet. Measured. British-leaning and ageless.

> “The last time you burned,” he said, “I watched from the trees.”

I stared at him. “What?”

“I was there the night you died.”

Lucian’s hand went to the hilt of his dagger. “You need to leave. Now.”

Rowan’s eyes flicked to him, slow. Unbothered.

> “She should know the truth, Vale. Before you lie again.”

Lucian lunged.

Kade caught him with a curse.

Rowan disappeared into shadow.

And I?

I was shaking.

Because something about Rowan’s voice—

Matched the one I’d heard in my dream.

The one that said, “Forgive me, my Luna.”