Chapter 2

No one breathes.

The King's amber eyes drill into mine. I don't look away. I already died once. There's nothing he can do to me that Cassian hasn't done worse.

"You would choose the dead," a lord whispers behind me.

"Doesn't she know?" Celeste recovers fast, her voice dripping disdain. "His wolf is broken. The healers say he'll never wake. She's binding herself to a corpse."

Another noble scoffs. "Every she-wolf in the kingdom dreams of Cassian Ashford. Why would anyone pick a frozen grave?"

Cassian tilts his head, cold amusement curling his lip. He mouths one word at me, so only I can see.

Stupid.

I curl my fingers into my skirt. Because I know exactly why.

In my old life, three months after our mating ceremony, Cassian drove me to the edge of the Blackthorn border for a royal hunt. When the hunt ended, he got back into his car alone.

"You don't deserve to ride with me," he'd said through the window. "Walk home."

"Cassian, those are rogue woods! I don't have a wolf yet—I can't shift, I can't fight—"

"Then die. Feed the rogues. I don't care."

His taillights vanished into the dark.

I remember the red eyes opening between the trees. Dozens of them. I remember the stink of wet fur and rot, the claws scraping bark, the way I curled into the mud and screamed his name until my throat bled.

"Why?" I'd sobbed. "My family died for you. What did I ever do?"

A clawed shape lunged.

Then light—blinding, ice-blue light—tore through the forest. The rogues shrieked and scattered.

A tall man walked out of the glow. Black coat. Pale skin. Silver eyes so cold they burned. He crouched in front of me, and in his palm lay a black moonstone glittering with stars.

"Hold this," he said, his voice low and rough. "No shadow in these woods can touch you while you carry it."

His hand was warm when he pulled me up. He drove me home himself and never said a word about why.

I never learned why Lucien Blackthorn showed mercy to a girl the whole kingdom laughed at. But I knew one thing.

He was the only man who ever came back for me.

"Lucien," the King says slowly, as if tasting the name.

Queen Helena leans toward him. Her whisper carries more than she intends. "Let her have the darkness, my love. One less problem for Cassian."

The King's jaw shifts. Then he raises his hand.

"So be it. You are the last of Silvercrest, and my brother sleeps alone. The crown will arrange your bonding ceremony."

I bow until my forehead touches cold stone. "Thank you, my King."

When I stand, I don't look at Cassian. I turn and walk the length of the Moon Hall with every eye burning into my back.

My heels click. My heart pounds.

I'm free.

Behind me, I hear something crack—Cassian's fist against a marble pillar.

Outside under the stars, his voice follows me down the steps.

"She tied herself to a dead man just to make me jealous."

Celeste laughs softly. "Remember what I said, brother. She'll be crying by spring."

"Her fate means nothing to me."

I keep walking. Let him think that.

Far north, in a black stone manor wrapped in snow, Lucien Blackthorn lies motionless on a bed of dark silk.

His Beta, Thane—scarred, enormous, loyal to the bone—sits beside him holding his cold hand.

"Alpha," Thane says quietly. "You don't know yet. The Silvercrest girl. The one you protected in the forest years ago." His voice cracks. "She stood in front of the whole court and chose you. She's your mate now."

Silence. Only the fire hisses.

"So wake up," Thane begs. "Come claim her yourself."

On the silk, one of Lucien's fingers twitches.

The next morning, my maid Nora rushes into my room, pale.

"My lady. The Queen has summoned you. And… Prince Cassian is waiting on the path."