The stone walls of the castle seemed to close in on Princess Aurora as she paced her chambers, her footsteps echoing in the silence. Outside, her father's kingdom looked serene, bathed in the golden glow of a setting sun. But that peaceful facade did nothing to soothe the turmoil in her heart.
The royal palace had always been her prison. Every tapestry, polished piece of furniture, and meticulous rule seemed crafted to remind her of her role: to obey, to marry strategically, and to secure the kingdom's future. Tomorrow, that role would come to a painful culmination in the form of a marriage that had been arranged without her consent.
Aurora stopped by the window, her fingers grazing the cold glass as she looked out at the horizon. She knew she should be content; many would kill for a life like hers. But she wanted more—freedom, adventure, the chance to shape her own destiny. The world beyond the castle walls called to her, filled with mysteries and dangers she yearned to explore.
But tonight, all she could do was imagine.
Just then, her maid and confidante, Elise, slipped into the room, her face a mix of mischief and caution. She whispered urgently, "There's a gathering in the old city tonight. I overheard the guards talking about it. Something big… something forbidden. They're bringing in captured wolves."
Aurora's heart skipped a beat. "A werewolf fight?"
Elise nodded, her eyes widening. "It's supposed to be brutal. They'll pit the captured wolves against each other to entertain the nobles."
Aurora's stomach turned. She had always heard stories of werewolves—the vicious beasts who prowled the night, who had once ravaged the kingdom before her father's forces drove them back into the wilds. But now, they were little more than prisoners, their existence reduced to violent spectacles.
"We should go," Aurora whispered, feeling a rush of excitement and fear at the thought. "I need to see it for myself."
Elise's eyes widened, but she nodded, unable to deny her princess. Together, they wrapped themselves in dark cloaks, slipping past the guards as they moved through the castle's hidden passages. The thrill of rebellion was intoxicating, and for once, Aurora felt alive.
—-
The underground arena was thick with the scent of smoke and sweat as Aurora and Elise blended into the crowd. Nobles and commoners alike gathered, their faces flushed with excitement as they anticipated the bloodshed. The air was charged with tension, with whispers of wagers and murmurs of excitement. Aurora had never seen her people like this—so raw, so bloodthirsty.
The ring in the center of the room was lined with iron bars. Behind them, shadows loomed—werewolves, chained and caged, each beast a towering figure of muscle and fury. Their eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, a reminder of the legends that painted them as creatures of the moon, tied to the wild.
Aurora's gaze fell on one wolf in particular, a massive, silver-furred beast whose eyes seemed to burn with intelligence and fury. He was separated from the others, held in thicker chains that barely restrained his strength. The crowd roared as the announcer began, introducing each wolf, treating them as little more than exotic animals to be paraded.
But when the silver wolf met Aurora's gaze, her blood ran cold. His eyes weren't just wild—they were human. He saw her, and in that single moment, she felt a surge of both fear and an inexplicable connection, as if he could see through the layers of her life, her mask, right into her soul.
Just then, the announcer called for the first fight. Two wolves were dragged into the ring, their chains released, and the crowd erupted in cheers as they lunged at each other, teeth bared, claws ripping flesh. Blood sprayed across the floor as they clashed, their growls filling the air.
Aurora wanted to turn away, but she was transfixed by the raw brutality, her heart hammering in her chest. These weren't mindless monsters—they were fighting to survive, forced to act out the rage and desperation that the humans craved.
Then, the announcer called for the final match. The silver wolf was dragged forward, his captors struggling to keep him under control as he thrashed, his growl reverberating through the arena. Aurora's heart clenched. This wasn't right.
As the announcer prepared to release him, Aurora acted without thinking. She pushed forward, her voice ringing out, "Stop!"
The crowd fell silent, heads turning to look at her in shock. The guards moved forward, confused and uncertain. But Aurora stood tall, her voice unwavering. "This is wrong. You can't force them to fight like this."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, some sneering, others surprised. But the announcer merely laughed, dismissing her words. "The princess has a soft heart," he sneered, mocking her.
But the silver wolf's gaze locked onto her, his expression changing. There was a flicker of something else—recognition, respect, perhaps even gratitude. It was as if her words, her defiance, had reached him.
Before she could process it, chaos erupted. The silver wolf seized his moment, breaking free from his handlers with a surge of strength that shattered his chains. The crowd screamed, panicking, as he lunged toward the bars, his gaze still locked on Aurora.
And then he was gone, a flash of silver vanishing into the night, leaving nothing but terror in his wake.
Aurora's heart thundered as she realized the full weight of what she had done. This wasn't just an act of rebellion—she had set something powerful, something dangerous, free. And she had a feeling that her life would never be the same again.