Roars pierced the air. Horses neighed wildly. The carriage rocked hard.
Blue clutched her chest, one hand braced against the wooden wall. Her heart pounded as fear wrapped around her like a second skin. She stayed completely still, barely breathing, until the noise outside faded into silence.
Minutes passed.
Then the door creaked open.
To Blue's surprise, it wasn't a soldier or Lycan warrior but a girl. Young, maybe her age, with kind brown eyes and a bright, gentle smile.
"Your Grace… are you okay?"
"Yes… yes, I'm fine," Blue said, her voice shaky.
The girl extended a hand. Blue hesitated. The noise started again shouts, stomps, and another roar, and the girl's face tensed.
"Please. Come with me."
Blue nodded and took the hand.
Stepping out of the carriage, her eyes widened. A second group had joined them—maybe they'd been waiting. Lycans moved swiftly, some still in their massive beast forms, pacing like silent shadows.
Others hauled supplies, built tents, and lit fires. The sky was still dark, but it was morning already. Somehow, she'd slept through the entire night sore and stiff from the hard carriage bench.
"This is just outside the Albenian border. Our pack's been waiting for you," the girl said, pulling her focus back.
Blue blinked. "What?"
"I'm Dasia, by the way," she said, glancing back with a soft smile.
"Blue Sara."
"I know who you are. We all do. This way."
They walked toward a small tent nestled between two larger ones. Cozy and well-kept, its canvas was thick, stitched in silver patterns along the flap. Inside, a bed of hay and furs sat near a small hearth. A basin of warm water steamed gently beside a chest that likely held fresh clothes. It smelled like mint, pine, and smoke.
"This will be your tent for now. You should rest. We leave at dusk."
"Why travel at night?"
But Dasia was already walking away, her face unreadable. She didn't answer.
Blue stood frozen for a moment. Since being shoved into that carriage, she hadn't seen her mates—her so-called husbands. Not even once. They'd abandoned her before they even laid eyes on her. And worst of all… she didn't have a single maid or lady-in-waiting by her side.
She was alone.
Her wolf stirred inside her, restless. Blue felt it too. After sitting still for so long, she stepped outside for air.
Every look thrown her way was sharp. Cold. Like blades piercing skin. She wrapped her cloak tighter and walked quietly behind the tent, hoping to be unseen. She bent to pick up a small stone, something to hold, and that's when she saw it.
A huge gray Lycan.
It stood still, beast form towering over her. Its black eyes locked on hers, full of fury. She gasped and took a step back.
The beast snarled. Teeth bared. She dropped the stone and fell back hard on the ground, scrambling away.
Then—"You get one hour of freedom, and this is how you use it? Already causing trouble?" a voice said, ice-cold.
Draven.
He stepped forward, towering beside the Lycan who still growled low at her. His sharp features were set in stone. Arrogant. Dangerous.
"Werewolves… always causing trouble," he muttered.
Draven dropped to one knee beside her. It was the closest he'd been. His scent washed over her,wild, sharp, and intoxicating. It twisted through her chest and gripped her soul.
Then, in a blink, the Lycan shifted.
Smooth-skinned, the man who appeared had the same face as Draven—only his hair was longer, wild around his shoulders. His expression matched the same biting cruelty.
The third brother.
"Did I scare her enough, brother?" Laziel smirked.
Both men scoffed.
Their mocking stung worse than the fall.
Without meaning to, the words came out of her mouth. "We've never caused trouble for your kind."
She trembled inside—but lifted her chin. They could smell her fear. Still, she refused to back down.
Draven's gaze burned into her. Fury swirled in those cold, pale eyes. Most wolves would've run from the look alone.
But Blue didn't.
"Do you hear that, brother?" Draven muttered. "The traitor denies her actions."
"I am no traitor," she whispered.
A growl ripped from Draven's throat, silencing her.
Laziel glanced at her one last time like she was dust on his boot and walked off.
Later, Dasia returned with food. Blue didn't touch it.
"You should eat," the girl urged quietly before slipping out again, leaving Blue alone in the cold tent.
---
"Now that we have her, what's next?" Kael asked.
The three brothers stood in Draven's tent. The air inside was heavy with frost and fire. Maps lay scattered on the table. Draven stood with his arms crossed, gaze sharp.
"We push through with our plans," Draven said flatly.
Laziel lounged in the corner, spinning a tumbler of wine between his fingers. "Did you see how pitiful she looked this morning? I could smell her fear from a mile away. Weak little thing."
"How's someone that fragile supposed to carry our heir?" he sneered and downed the wine in one gulp.
"She and her people murdered our heir," Draven snapped. "So it's only right she gives us one."
Kael grabbed the tumbler and poured himself a drink. "Still can't believe we were ever mated to a werewolf… and a weak one at that."
They were only ten winters old when the dark sorcerers spoke of the prophecy. Their mate would be born on Winter's full moon—a half-werewolf, half-witch, a direct descendant of Albenia's royal line.
Their parents, the former king and queen of Frost Empire, had sent countless ravens to King Huron Reign. Pleaded. Warned. Bargained.
But he ignored them all.
The selfish bastard was the reason his family and kingdom suffered.
The brothers grew up knowing of Blue Sara. Waiting for her. Dreaming of her. Hoping for the day she would come.
But what they got instead… was betrayal. Ambush. Gillian's death.
To survive and to gain power, the triplets drank from the Frost Heart. A cursed river, hidden beneath the empire's oldest mountain. Many who tried to reach it perished before their lungs filled with ice.
But the brothers made it.
They crossed the double gates and drank straight from the well.
The power turned their blood cold and gave them dominion over winter itself. It plunged the Frost Empire into eternal snow. Ice ran through their veins—and through the land. Crops failed. Starvation spread. But so did vengeance.
They crushed Albenia with endless winter. For five long seasons.
And now, the one they blamed stood helpless in their hands.
But none of their soldiers, not even their closest allies, knew the truth.
The Frost Heart was killing them.
It would reach their hearts soon.
Less than two years—maybe even less, and they'd freeze from the inside out.
The only way to break the curse?
Blue.
She had to carry their heir.
Their brother died. So she would give them another.
They only hoped… it would be a son.