The Gates of Obsidian Keep
The towering black gates of Obsidian Keep loomed ahead, jagged like fangs against the blood-red sky. The fortress was massive—built of dark stone, with ancient carvings of Lycans in battle, their forms twisted into something both majestic and monstrous. Torches lined the entrance, but the flames burned an eerie silver.
Selene shivered.
She told herself it was from the cold.
But she knew better.
As the carriage slowed to a stop, she barely had time to gather her thoughts before the door swung open.
Kieran stood outside, golden eyes gleaming like a predator catching its prey. He extended a hand, waiting for her to take it.
Selene hesitated.
A test.
If she accepted his hand, it would be a silent submission. If she refused, she would be defying him before his entire kingdom.
Heat prickled along her skin as she felt the eyes of unseen figures watching—guards, advisors, perhaps even his pack. Waiting. Judging.
Selene clenched her jaw and stepped down without taking his hand.
A flicker of amusement crossed Kieran's face, but he said nothing.
Instead, he turned and walked ahead.
Selene followed, keeping her head high, even as unease twisted in her gut.
The gates groaned open, revealing the grand entrance of the fortress. The scent of cold stone, burning embers, and something unmistakably Lycan filled the air. The moment she stepped inside, the doors slammed shut behind her.
Trapped.
No. Not trapped. Not yet.
Selene kept her expression neutral, her heartbeat steady, even as she felt the weight of countless gazes upon her.
Figures emerged from the shadows—warriors, advisors, high-ranking wolves. All of them radiated power, but none of them dared meet Kieran's gaze directly.
A man stepped forward—tall, sharp-eyed, with streaks of silver in his dark hair. His stance was rigid with discipline, but his expression held nothing but respect when he bowed before Kieran.
"Your Majesty," he said, his voice deep. "Welcome home." His gaze flickered toward Selene. "And this is…?"
"My mate," Kieran answered simply.
The room stilled.
Selene braced herself for some kind of protest. Disbelief. Maybe even hostility.
But the man—**General Varek, she realized—**only gave a slow, measured nod. "I see," he said, though his eyes lingered on her as if assessing a weapon for weaknesses.
Selene met his gaze, refusing to look away first.
Kieran smirked at the exchange but said nothing.
Instead, he turned to the gathered Lycans and wolves. "Leave us."
At once, the room emptied.
Only Kieran, Selene, and General Varek remained.
Varek hesitated, then spoke again, his tone carefully neutral. "There are… matters that need your attention, my King."
"Tomorrow," Kieran said. "Tonight, I have other priorities."
Selene stiffened as his golden eyes slid to her.
Varek bowed. "As you wish."
And then he was gone.
Silence settled between them.
Selene was the first to break it. "I'm not your priority."
Kieran took a slow step toward her. "Aren't you?"
Her breath caught. Not from fear—no, she refused to be afraid of him—but because of the sheer intensity in his gaze.
He wasn't just looking at her. He was claiming her with his eyes alone.
Selene forced herself to stand taller. "I don't belong to you."
His lips quirked in amusement, but his voice was nothing but certainty. "You will."
The air between them was charged, electric.
Selene clenched her fists. "You can put me in this castle, dress me in fine silks, chain me with a mate-bond I never asked for—but I will never be yours."
Kieran was silent for a long moment.
Then he stepped closer.
So close that she could feel the warmth of him, the raw power that radiated from his body.
"Do you think I want a mate who submits so easily?" he murmured, his breath ghosting against her ear. "A queen who breaks at the first sign of dominance?"
Selene swallowed, but she held her ground.
Kieran leaned back slightly, studying her. And then, instead of looking angry, he smirked.
"Good," he murmured. "You'll make this interesting."
Selene exhaled sharply. "You're insane."
He chuckled. "Possibly."
And then—before she could react—he turned on his heel and strode toward the grand staircase that spiraled upward.
"Come, little wolf," he called over his shoulder. "Your chambers await."
Selene stood frozen for a heartbeat.
Then, with no other choice, she followed.
---
The Queen's Cage
Selene expected a cold prison. A dungeon. A gilded cage.
But when she stepped inside the chambers that Kieran had led her to, she froze.
The room was… beautiful.
The walls were carved with intricate designs of wolves running beneath the moon. The bed was massive, draped in dark silks that looked softer than clouds. A fireplace crackled warmly, casting golden light across the midnight-blue carpets.
It was nothing like the cold, unfeeling halls of her old home.
Selene hated that she liked it.
She turned to Kieran. "You expect me to be grateful?"
He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed lazily. "I expect you to rest."
Selene narrowed her eyes. "And if I don't?"
Kieran's smirk deepened. "Then you'll be exhausted tomorrow. And trust me, little wolf—you'll want your strength."
Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down her spine.
She hated that too.
Kieran pushed off the doorframe. "Sleep, Selene."
And just like that, he was gone, the door shutting behind him.
Leaving her alone.
But not unchained.
The mate-bond still pulsed. Still tied her to the man who had stolen her fate.
Selene exhaled sharply.
She may have been trapped in the Blood King's castle.
But she would never be his willing queen.
She would find a way out.
Even if it killed her.
---
End of Chapter Four