6

The King's words struck her silent. In that moment, the bitter truth of her existence washed over her again she was nothing more than a pet. A possession. Purchased like a toy, gifted to his sons for their entertainment.

It made sense now. He hadn't chosen a submissive pet, no. He’d deliberately selected someone like her defiant, unyielding, unwilling to bend to monsters. The plan was clear: provoke his sons until one lost control and killed her. The survivor would then claim the throne.

Brilliant. Diabolically so.

A wave of unease settled over her as she let her gaze drift around the luxurious interior of the car. Perhaps this would be the last time she’d ever sit in something so beautiful. Or maybe… this was her final day alive.

But if she was going to die, she wouldn’t do it quietly.

She hadn’t been sold to just any werewolf but to the Lycan King himself. Over the past ten years, she'd heard enough whispers to fill a lifetime, and the most terrifying tales were always about the Lycans. Fierce. Unstoppable. Ruthless beyond measure.

When the war first ignited, humans could still kill werewolves with conventional weapons. But Lycans? Their wounds healed almost instantly, and their strength defied logic. Now, only three kingdoms remained, each ruled by Lycans and among them, Firestone stood as the most formidable. And it was its king the Lycan King who now sat before her.

But it wasn’t him she feared most.

It was the princes.

The stories about them went beyond cruelty. They redefined it. Barbaric, merciless, and worst of all devotedly hateful toward humans.

Her fate would be laughable, if it weren’t so horrifying.

The princes, she’d heard, were even more powerful than their father. That was saying something.

She shook her head lightly, forcing herself to push away the dread creeping in. The car ride was nearing its end. Soon, whatever doom awaited would unfold. Instead, she turned her attention to the window. The night sky stretched across the horizon in a deep, inky veil, hauntingly beautiful.

It had been nearly a decade since she last saw the sky. The pet Mistress never allowed her outside, not even for a moment. And last night her one shot at escape she'd been too consumed by survival to notice the stars. Most of her life had been spent in the dark, locked away in dungeons, denied air, light, or freedom.

She longed to roll down the window, to let the night air play with her hair. But indulging that urge might earn her death before they even arrived.

With a quiet sigh, she glanced at the King only to find his gaze already fixed on her.

She looked away swiftly, and then he spoke. “I want you to give my sons a hard time.”

She nearly laughed. What a request.

He might as well have said, Go ahead, provoke them. One of them will kill you, and I won’t have to choose an heir myself. Problem solved!

She wasn’t naive. Her tongue had a mind of its own, often speaking before she thought startling others, sometimes even herself.

“Okay,” she replied, voice calm, polite.

The King’s brow rose slightly at her unexpected compliance.

Azzurra was fierce, rebellious but not reckless. She knew when to fight and when to play smart. Or at least, she thought she did.

As the limousine rolled past towering gates and onto a sprawling estate, her eyes widened. The castle looked like something plucked from a fantasy grand, elegant, and almost unreal.

But she knew better. This wasn’t a fairy tale.

The vehicle came to a stop, and the door opened. The King stepped out, still gripping her leash, forcing her to follow. Cool air brushed against her skin, and she noticed two black Range Rovers pull in behind the limousine. Guards poured out of them, surrounding the entrance.

Her breath hitched. Her heart was racing.

She caught a few curious glances from the guards, but she couldn't dwell on them. A well-dressed man approached the King mid-thirties, strikingly handsome. Even now, the King carried an undeniable allure. It made her wonder what he must have looked like in his youth.

Maybe she was already losing her mind, imagining such things so close to death.

“My Lord,” the man greeted with a bow.

“You could’ve sent me,” he added, sparing a quick glance at Azzurra, who looked minuscule beside the towering guards.

“This task was important, Benedetto,” the King responded calmly.

It felt… strange. The King sounded so human. Courteous, even. The terrifying tyrant she’d heard about didn’t match this man. And for a fleeting moment, hope stirred within her.

What if the Princes weren’t monsters either? What if all the rumors were just lies?

She wanted to believe that so badly. But she knew better than to trust appearances. Real monsters revealed themselves slowly.

“I want to see my sons,” the King said to Benedetto, who bowed again before hurrying into the castle.

The King turned to Azzurra. “Follow me.”

He moved with long, confident strides, and she fell into step behind him.

The castle's beauty was undeniable. But when she stepped inside, her breath caught. It was mesmerizing. The marble beneath her feet gleamed like crystal, and everything shimmered with luxury. She almost felt unworthy to walk there.

As they moved through the halls, the slaves they passed cast her nervous, pitiful glances only deepening her own anxiety.

Eventually, they reached a grand set of doors. Guards opened them, and the King entered a vast hall. He climbed the steps and took his throne.

She stood below, oversized coat hiding her trembling hands, fingers twisting with nerves.

So this was it. The place she would die. Fitting, in a grimly elegant way.

“Stand here,” the King instructed, gesturing to his right. She moved without a word.

Then her gaze dropped to the floor and the air fled from her lungs.

What she had taken for art… wasn't marble.

It was bone.

Human skeletons had been arranged and polished into a horrifying mosaic. Beautiful, in the most grotesque way imaginable. Her stomach twisted violently.

Would her bones one day join that floor?

Her pulse thundered in her ears as panic surged through her.

And then

The doors opened again.

A low chuckle echoed through the hall as two figures entered, stalking forward like predators.