Chapter 2 THE ALPHA KING’S PRISONER
The forest swallowed Aria in shadows and wind.
Every breath burned. Every step dragged. The two wolves escorting her moved with silent precision, half-shifted—humanoid but covered in dark fur, claws glinting, eyes glowing with caution.
She didn’t fight.
She wanted to.
But every time she tried, the strange bond between her and Roman Blackthorn—the Alpha King—pulled at something deep inside her, choking the fight before it reached her veins.
Moonfire, her wolf whispered. Mate. Fate.
She squeezed her eyes shut. No. Not him. Not like this.
Branches whipped against her arms as they pushed her through the forest, deeper, farther, away from everything she had ever known. She caught one last glimpse of the village lights blinking faintly in the distance—small, warm, safe.
She bit her lip to stop herself from crying.
Don’t look back.
She didn’t.
Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. Time blurred.
Finally, the trees broke open—and Aria froze.
A massive black carriage waited in the clearing, sleek and silent, marked with silver insignias in the shape of a crescent moon drowned in shadow. Two enormous wolves—fully shifted, eyes glowing unnaturally—stood harnessed at the front, breath misting in the cold night air.
The wolves escorting her halted. One turned to the Alpha King, who had followed at a calculated distance, silent, composed, a shadow made flesh.
He didn’t look at her.
That almost hurt worse.
“She’s ready,” one of the guards said.
Roman’s gaze flickered toward Aria, unreadable. The wind caught his coat, his hair, but not his expression.
It was carved from stone.
“Put her inside,” he said quietly.
Aria swallowed. “I can walk—”
“No.” His voice was firm. Not cruel, but absolute. “You’re not ready.”
Not ready.
Not ready for what?
His guards lifted her off her feet as though she weighed nothing. The carriage door opened without a sound, revealing a dark, elegant interior lit faintly by lantern light.
She was placed inside.
Not thrown. Not chained.
Placed.
That confused her even more.
Roman stepped in after her.
The door shut.
The wolves outside began to move, and just like that, the forest fell away.
The carriage jolted forward, but inside… silence.
She sat opposite him, her hands clutched in her lap, her heart hammering.
He looked completely composed. Not tense. Not angry. Just… contained.
Like if he loosened even a little, everything around him would break.
Finally, Aria found her voice.
“What do you want from me?”
He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes lingered on the moonlight flickering through the window, still faintly red.
When he did speak, his voice was quieter than she expected.
“Truth.”
She blinked. “Truth?”
Roman turned his head slowly. His storm-grey eyes looked different now. Not cold—just tired. Haunted.
“You don’t know who you are,” he said. Not a question.
Her throat tightened. “I’m nobody. I’ve always been—”
“Stop.” His gaze sharpened. “You’ve never been nobody. Even your blood refuses to let you be ordinary.”
Aria’s fingers dug into the soft fabric of the cushion. “My blood is normal.”
He leaned forward slightly. “Look at your hands.”
She hesitated—then lifted them slowly.
Her breath caught.
Her veins were glowing. Just faintly. Just under the skin—pale silver threads, pulsing softly like moonlight trapped beneath her flesh.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“No. No, no—this isn’t—”
“It happens,” Roman said evenly, “when the moon awakens something that was always meant to rise.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“Neither did I,” he murmured.
She looked up sharply.
For a heartbeat—just one—she saw something raw in his expression.
Loneliness.
Then it vanished.
She took a breath, forcing her voice steady. “What do you plan to do with me? Torture me? Throw me in a dungeon? Force me to—”
His hand shifted, as if instinctively reacting to her fear. Not to harm. Almost… to calm.
He didn’t touch her. But the movement was enough to silence her.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “I don’t allow anyone to hurt you. But I can’t let you go.”
Her pulse stuttered. “Because of—” She could barely say it. “—the mate bond?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
And when he finally did, it wasn’t what she expected.
“This isn’t about a mate bond,” he said. “This is bigger than that.”
Aria stared at him.
His gaze moved to the window, his voice distant.
“Eighteen years ago, on the night of the last Blood Eclipse, a child was born. A girl with silver in her veins. She was the last of a Luna bloodline that was meant to die.” His eyes returned to hers. “It was you.”
Aria’s lungs stopped moving.
“Your power,” Roman continued softly, “is not just bloodline. You are moon-touched. Bound to a prophecy that was broken… and now wants to mend itself.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand—”
"You don’t have to,” he said. “Not yet.”
Silence fell again.
Except this time, it felt… different.
Not empty.
Heavy.
The carriage slowed.
Aria turned toward the window.
Her heart stopped.
They had reached a citadel.
Black stone towers rising against the night, lit with flickering lanterns and pale moonlight. Tall iron gates engraved with moon sigils. Wolves—fully shifted—patrolled the walls like silent sentinels.
It was beautiful
And terrifying.
Roman Blackthorn—the Alpha King—rose to his feet.
His presence filled the small carriage, commanding, unyielding.
When he spoke, his voice was calm—but final.
“Welcome to the North, Aria Nightwolf.”
Her pulse roared in her ears.
“You stand at the gates of the Dark Moon Court.”
Her wolf stirred.
Not in fear this time.
But in recognition.
As if some ancient part of her had always known…
She was meant to return here.