The palace was suffocating.
Three days had passed since Celine had been dragged into this gilded prison, stripped of her old life, and forced into a world where she was watched, judged, and controlled at every turn.
Three days since she had met Lady Selene, who had already made it painfully clear that she was an unwanted presence in the royal court.
Three days since she had been told she would marry a man she had never met… a Lycan King who was said to be as ruthless as he was powerful.
And yet, the weight of it all hadn't settled… not really.
She barely slept, her mind restless with the whirlwind of revelations that had upended everything she thought she knew. But even when exhaustion clawed at her, something else kept her from finding peace.
Something that stirred beneath her skin, restless and wild.
Something she didn't understand.
It started with small things…
A whisper in the back of her mind, a pressure behind her ribs, a prickle along her spine whenever she was upset.
And then there were the dreams.
The golden-eyed man haunted her sleep, his voice curling through her mind like smoke.
You are waking up, little wolf…
The beast within you stirs…
The words lingered long after she woke, leaving her breathless and shaken in the stillness of her chambers.
She had no idea what was happening to her.
And she had no one to ask.
So, on the third night, when the walls of the palace became too much, Celine did the only thing she could think of…
She ran.
The corridors were empty, bathed in the flickering glow of candlelight. The guards had likely changed shifts, and the nobles were deep in their chambers, lost in their own indulgences.
She moved swiftly, slipping through the side passages she had memorized over the past few days. No one had exactly given her free rein to explore, but that hadn't stopped her from learning.
The palace gardens stretched out before her like a dream, moonlight spilling over lush greenery, the scent of night-blooming flowers curling through the air.
She inhaled deeply, her shoulders loosening for the first time since she arrived.
But then… something shifted.
A prickle ran down her spine, her breath hitching.
The wind carried a faint scent, yet undeniable.
Earth. Bark. The dampness of the wild.
Her pulse quickened.
It wasn't the neatly trimmed hedges or the carefully maintained flower beds.
It was the scent of something untamed.
A heaviness settled in her chest, something primal and deep, pulling her toward the farthest edge of the gardens… toward the tree line beyond.
She shouldn't.
She knew she shouldn't.
But her legs carried her forward before her mind could catch up.
Her fingers brushed against rough bark as she stepped past the first trees, the cool night air licking at her skin. The sounds of the palace faded behind her, replaced by the rustling of leaves, the distant call of an owl, the pulse of something ancient in the air.
Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, each step sending a strange thrill through her veins.
And then, Pain.
Sharp and sudden, it ripped through her body, knocking the breath from her lungs.
She staggered, clutching at her sides as fire crawled beneath her skin, her vision blurring at the edges.
Her hands burned.
She looked down, horror coiling in her stomach as she saw her own fingers, her nails had darkened, lengthening slightly, the tips curved into something almost… claw-like.
No. No, no, no…
She gasped, stumbling backward, her limbs shaking violently. Her breath came in ragged pants, her mind screaming at her to stop this, to push it down, to control it.
A twig snapped.
Celine froze.
She wasn't alone.
A figure stood at the edge of the shadows, barely visible under the thick canopy of trees.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
"I wouldn't linger too long if I were you," the figure murmured, voice smooth as silk. "You might not like what you find out here."
Her body locked up.
That voice…
It was familiar.
Not from her dreams. Not from the palace.
But from somewhere.
"Who are you?" she demanded, forcing herself to stand straighter, to push through the lingering ache in her bones.
The stranger chuckled, stepping closer.
Moonlight spilled over his face. Sharp features, piercing dark eyes, a smirk that was both amused and knowing.
He didn't look much older than her, but there was something about him.
Something dangerous.
"That's not the right question," he said, tilting his head slightly. "The right question is… what are you?"
Celine's breath hitched.
His gaze flickered to her hands, and she quickly curled her fingers inward, hiding the lingering sharpness of her nails.
"Get away from me," she warned, though her voice wavered slightly.
"Relax, little wolf," he murmured, his smirk deepening. "I'm not here to hurt you. In fact… I might be the only person in this place who actually knows what's happening to you."
Celine's blood ran cold.
He knew.
Whoever this man was… he knew.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
"Stay away from me," she said again, stepping back.
The man sighed, shaking his head as if she had disappointed him.
"Suit yourself," he said lazily. "But you should be careful, princess. You may think the palace is safe…" His gaze darkened slightly. "But you're more of a prisoner here than you realize."
A chill ran through her.
The stranger gave her one last unreadable look before stepping back into the shadows. Within seconds, he was gone, as if he had never been there at all.
Celine stood frozen, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.
What the hell had just happened?
She had come out here looking for an escape, for a moment of freedom from the suffocating walls of the palace.
Instead, she had nearly shifted… and met a stranger who knew far too much.
Her stomach twisted, unease crawling up her spine.
She needed answers.
But more than that…
She needed to get back to her chambers before someone noticed she was missing.
Ignoring the lingering pain in her limbs, she turned on her heel and ran.
The moment Celine stepped into her chambers, she knew something was wrong.
A folded piece of parchment sat on her bed, pristine against the dark sheets.
Her pulse quickened as she hesitantly reached for it, her fingers brushing against the smooth surface before she unfolded it.
The handwriting was elegant, precise.
Your future husband arrives soon. Be ready.
Celine's breath caught.
Soon.
The Lycan King was arriving soon.
Her hands trembled slightly as she lowered the note.
She had known this was coming.
She had known that, sooner or later, she would have to face the man who was supposedly destined to be hers.
But how soon?
The pull in her chest tightened again, sharp and unrelenting.
Fate was moving faster than she had anticipated.
And there was no way to stop it.