The cold hit me the moment we crossed the border. It wasn't the cold I was used to back at home.
No this one was brutal.
I pulled my cloak tighter around myself, but it did nothing. The fur lining that had seemed so warm back in Durnhall was useless here.
This was the North.
We had been traveling for a full day now, and every hour felt colder than the last.
The landscape had changed completely, no more rolling green hills or golden fields. Just snow. Endless, suffocating snow. And trees so dark they looked black against the white.
I pressed my face against the carriage window, watching my breath fog the glass. My hands were numb even inside my gloves. My feet ached.
How do people live here?
The carriage hit a rough patch of road, and I grabbed onto the seat to steady myself. My stomach churned. I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning.
Not that I could eat even if I wanted to.
I was too scared.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the carriage began to slow. I sat up straighter, my heart hammering.
Through the frosted window, I saw it, a village. Small. Dark. Buried in snow. The buildings were made of stone and wood, smoke rising from chimneys. People moved through the streets bundled in thick furs, their breath visible in the freezing air.
And they were staring. At me. At the carriage.
Some stopped what they were doing just to watch us pass. Their faces were hard. Suspicious. A few looked outright hostile.
I shrank back from the window, my pulse racing.
The carriage rolled through the village slowly, and I caught glimpses of their lives, market stalls, children playing in the snow, a blacksmith's forge glowing orange in the grey light.
It looked almost… normal. But I knew better. These weren't just people. They were wolves.
The village ended, and suddenly we were climbing.
Up a winding road carved into the side of a mountain. The carriage shook and groaned with every turn.
And then I saw it. The castle. It was massive. Built into the mountain itself, dark stone and sharp towers that clawed at the sky. Snow covered the rooftops, and torches burned along the walls, flickering like tiny stars.
The carriage came to a stop, and my stomach dropped.
I heard the door unlatch, and a guard appeared. "My lady."
I didn't move.
"My lady," he repeated, his tone sharper now. I forced myself to stand, my legs shaking, and stepped out into the cold.
The wind hit me immediately, stealing the breath from my lungs. Snow crunched under my feet.
I looked up.
The gates were enormous, thick iron reinforced with wood, covered in carvings I didn't recognize. Wolves. Moons. Claws. And they were opening.
The sound was deafening. Metal grinding against metal, echoing off the mountain. I took a breath and stepped forward.
Don't let them see you're scared.
Don't let them see you're scared.
Don't let them—
Two figures stood just inside the gates. Both men.
No.
Not ordinary men.
Werewolves.
They were huge, easily a head taller than any man I had ever seen, broad-shouldered and built like soldiers. One had dark hair pulled back into a knot. The other was bald, with a scar running down the side of his face.
They weren't smiling. The scarred one stepped closer, and I fought the urge to step back.
He leaned in, and sniffed. I stiffened. How dare him?
He pulled back with a grunt of disgust. "Human," he muttered. The other one smirked. "What did you expect?"
The scarred one turned his cold gaze on me. "Follow." That was it. No greeting. No welcome. Just follow. I swallowed hard and nodded.
They turned and walked, and I had no choice but to follow.
The inside of the castle was just as cold as the outside.
Stone walls. High ceilings. Torches that barely gave off any warmth. Everything was dark, dark wood, dark stone, dark shadows.
I kept my head up, my hands clasped in front of me, trying not to look as terrified as I felt. We passed guards. Servants. All of them stopped to stare.
At me. The human. The enemy bride.
We walked through corridor after corridor, up stairs, down hallways, until finally we stopped in front of another set of doors.
These ones were even bigger than the gates. Carved with wolves mid-hunt, their jaws open, their eyes burning.
The throne room. The scarred guard looked back at me. "Ready?" I didn't answer.
He smirked and pushed the doors open. The throne room was massive. High vaulted ceilings. Pillars carved with wolves and moons. A long crimson carpet that led straight to—
Him.
My breath stopped.
Alexander Xoriath.
The Alpha King.
He sat on a throne of black stone and iron, one leg crossed over the other, his hand resting casually on the armrest. He wore a thick coat lined with dark fur, his shoulders broad. His hair was silver-grey, falling just past his jaw, and his eyes—
Gods.
They were golden.
Predator's eyes.
And they were locked on me.
He didn't move, he didn't speak, he just stared at me.
The two guards who had escorted me dropped to one knee immediately, their heads bowed.
"Your Majesty," they said in unison. I didn't move.
Every instinct screamed at me to bow. To kneel. To show submission.
But I couldn't.
I wouldn't.
If I was going to be his wife, I would not grovel.
The silence stretched.
And then someone spoke. "Bow," a voice snapped from somewhere to my left.
I didn't even look.
"No."
Gasps echoed through the room.
"You're in the presence of the King," the voice hissed. "Bow."
"No," I repeated, louder this time. My voice shook, but I held my ground. "If I'm to be his wife, then I'm his equal. I will not bow."
More gasps. Whispers.
How dare she—
Human filth—
Disrespectful—
Then to my shock, there was a low, dark chuckle. I looked up.
Alexander was smiling. He rose from his throne slowly, his coat sweeping behind him, and started walking toward me.
Every step echoed. Closer. Closer. Until he was standing right in front of me.
He was even taller up close. Broader. More terrifying.
He tilted his head, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
"Is that so, little bird?"
My jaw clenched. "I'm not a little bird." His smirk widened. "No?"
"No."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low rumble. "We'll see."
Then he straightened and turned to address the room.
"Prepare her for the ceremony." My heart stopped. "What?" I blurted. "What ceremony?"
He didn't even look back. "You'll see." Before I could protest, two women appeared at my sides, tall, sharp-eyed, dressed in grey.
They grabbed my arms.
"Wait—" I tried to pull away. "What ceremony? Please—"
But they were already dragging me toward a side door. I looked back once.
Alexander was watching me, a smile still planted on his face. And then the door slammed shut.