Chained Throne

Serenity’s POV

There is this belief among my kind, a belief about our bond. Be it between family members, friends, or mates. They say the bond is none like the other. You can say that it is magic, an unspoken connection, a magic that cannot even be broken by itself.

To humans, it can also be called love.

To shifters, it is more need or right. For us, it is fate. I use laugh comparing ourselves with penguins, as we are only to mate with one of our kind from now until forever.

But love in our world has laws and rules.

Coveting someone else’s mate or adultery is punishable by death, either in the hands of the one in pain or death caused by the pain. I’d probably prefer the latter. Then again, I’d rather not think that I’ll be having that problem.

Unfortunately, these things are somewhat different for my case. Only the strongest and purest Alpha Blood may call upon my heart. The same heart that had grown numbed now.

Numbed by the longing to see him, my mate, the one who called my heart.

Having the Alpha Blood in me meant I’ll not only be relying on my wolf’s senses to find my mate but also by blood. My scent and blood can attract all shifters, man or woman. They are under oath to answer to the Royal Blood that runs through my veins.

The same blood that had saved me from being killed. I cannot say the same for those who had tried to save me. My parents, in particular.

My captors had kept me away from my kind and my family for months now, demanding information and using me to their benefit in exchange for the safety of my brother and his family… my nephew- to-be, the soon-to-be prince of the shifters.

The hunters didn’t just punish me for their demands physically. They made me pay for killing more than a dozen of my kind. Those who they had fooled for me to call upon, they made me their bait.

I stared at what seemed to be the twelfth man I have killed since I agreed to help them, not including the guards who were looking for me and were captured by the hunters.

I felt someone grab my arm and pulled me roughly to my feet, making it hard due to the chains that bind my feet together.

“Stand up,” he growled.

By now, I learned to submit to their requests and demands. There is no sense in fighting if death is very near in the future, especially if it isn’t even your death.

Then handcuffed my hands with what they say a special kind of cuffs, one that is made of silver and more. I don’t know what the more is, but I’m sure it is doing its job. It has always kept me in place and tired, unable to fight or escape, even to use my shifter power.

After checking my chains and cuffs, he grabbed my arm, dragged me to the van, and tossed me at the back. Making me fall hard on the metal floor. I whined as I hit my still-healing shoulder.

I pushed myself to sit up and lean on the side of the van as I stared to nothingness.

As we made our way back to the hunter’s hideout, images of the 12 dead shifters ran to my mind. They had all been called by me, forced to shift into their human body to be able to talk to me, and then brutally murdered.

In front of me.