Chapter 2

"Royal Blood in Chains"

Kyra's POV

My knees weakened as he pulled me towards the dungeon. The stink of mildew and rust crept up my nose. I tripped on the last step, but he didn’t wait for me to catch my footing. Instead, he yanked me upright.

At the iron door, a guard looked up lazily.

Damon’s voice was colder than ice, as he commanded.

“Lock her up until I say when.”

The guard blinked. “How long?”

“I said until.” His tone was final.

The guard nodded.

I looked up at Damon one last time, trying to find something human in his face. Anything. A flicker of guilt or maybe hesitation.

But there was none.

Just disgust.

Then he turned on his heel and walked away. The guard on the other hand didn't didn’t move right away. He stared at me like I was something that crawled out of the latrine.

“You lot never learn,” He muttered, grabbing a heavy iron ring of keys off the hook. “Sniffing’ around places you don’t belong. That’s why you all end up down here.”

I said nothing. My voice had dried up, swallowed by the cold.

He unlocked the outer gate with a loud clang. My bare feet slipped against the damp stones as he shoved me forward. The smell of mold, blood, and piss curled in my throat and sat heavy on my tongue.

I staggered, my legs aching, the raw whip marks on my back still stinging with every step I took.

“In you go,” He grunted as we reached the last cell.

He shoved the doors open, grabbed my arm and hurled me inside.

My knees struck the stone first. Then my elbows. Then my face.

I spat out a handful of saliva continuously as the taste of dirt and blood refused to go away.

The door slammed shut behind me.

CLICK.

CLICK.

Locks turned. One, then two. Then silence.

I sat at a corner, curled on my side, bones aching, heart drumming against the stone like it wanted out of my chest.

Above me, water dripped from the ceiling slowly.

I closed my eyes and whispered into the dark, “Please… let this be a dream…”

But it wasn’t.

It never was.

My back throbbed where the whip had split it open not hours ago but I didn’t cry.

Tears were a luxury I had long since stopped affording.

To keep myself calm, I counted my breaths, each one shallower than the last. One. Two. Three. Keep breathing, Kyra. Keep breathing.

Then I heard someone exhale loudly. I took it as my mind playing games on me, not until I heard a shuffle.

“There’s another down here,” A male voice rasped from the dark.

I squinted toward the sound, heart thudding painfully.

“I smell blood,” He continued. “You’re not one of them, are you?”

I hesitated. “Who are you?”

“Someone who once believed in the Alpha’s promises,” He chuckled darkly. “Now I believe in vengeance.”

My back pressed to the wall. “Are you… a rogue?”

There was a pause. Then…

“Aye. Silas is the name. Used to run with the West Kingdom before I was caught… sniffing too close to the truth.” He shifted again. “They say you’re the cursed one. The girl with no wolf.”

I stiffened.

“Poor thing,” He murmured. “You’ve been silenced, haven’t you? You reek of silver, old blood, and something... something they fear.”

I wrapped my arms around my knees. “They fear nothing. Least of all me.”

He chuckled again. “Oh, child. If they truly thought you were nothing, they’d have slit your throat and buried you long ago. But you? They keep you alive. Ever wonder why?”

I remained silent.

“They’re scared.” Silas whispered. “Because the resistance is rising, girl. In the West. They’re freeing omegas like you. Like me. Like all of us who were bred for chains and pain.”

I stared into the dark where his voice came from, heart fluttering. A resistance? Real?

“They’re coming.” He whispered. “The rebellion will break the bones of tyrants like Ethan.”

“But they’re looking for someone. A girl who possess the bloodline that vanished in the war. They need her.”

My fingers clenched. “What girl?”

Silas didn’t answer.

A moment later, the cellar door creaked open, and light poured in.

“Omega.” A cold voice called. “The Luna wants you scrubbed and presentable. You’ll serve at the banquet tonight.”

I didn’t have the strength to stand, but I stood anyway. My limbs screamed. My bones rattled. But I moved.

<><>

The water was scalding as they bathed me, scrubbing the filth and blood off my back with coarse cloths. I bit into my tongue until I tasted iron.

“She looks like a rat,” One of the kitchen girls sneered. “No wonder they keep her in the dirt.”

The other giggled. “If I were her, I’d throw myself off the cliff and be done with it.”

I didn’t speak.

They dressed me in a servant’s dress. Gray wool, torn at the hem and shoved me toward the grand hall just as the horns sounded Alpha Ryder’s arrival.

The BloodMoon banquet was glittering. Gold chandeliers hung overhead, casting light over the polished floors and crystal goblets.

I slipped in through the side, head bowed, shoulders hunched, trying not to be noticed.

Damon sat at the head table beside his father. He wore his pride like a crown, black uniform tailored to perfection, broad shoulders stiff with inherited arrogance.

He saw me.

Of course he did.

His lip curled in distaste.

I shuffled past, gripping the tray tighter. My hands trembled. “Watch where you step, mut” he growled lowly as I passed him.

I turned my body away from him, but as I did, the back of my hand brushed his arm.

It was a mistake.

A stupid, accidental brush of skin against skin.

But it felt like lightning.

Like the breath of the moon herself sank into my skin and roared.

A jolt rushed up my arm, curling into my chest.

I gasped.

He flinched.

His eyes snapped to mine, narrowing as though trying to understand what just happened. My breath caught, and I backed away, pulse racing.

As I stumbled through the hall, the walls closed in around me. The lights were too bright, and the air too tight.

So I kept the tray at a corner and stepped outside because I needed air.

I fled the banquet doors, heart thrashing like a trapped bird, chest heaving.

Then I heard two voices. One sounded familiar, so I hid behind the stone archway, kept my ears close and my eyes wide.

“It’s her.” Alpha Ryder said. “She has royal blood, Ethan. If the resistance finds her before we do, all our plans will burn.”

My blood turned to ice.

Ethan cursed under his breath. “We should have drowned her when she was born.”

“You didn’t.” Ryder snapped. “And now she’s of age. If they get to her, if they claim her as theirs, your pack, your rule, everything you built will crumble.”

Royal blood?

Who… were they talking about?

Me?