KESLEY'S POV
The carriage stopped so abruptly that I almost slid off the wooden bench.
For a moment, there was only silence. Then the iron doors were thrown open.
“Out. Now.”
Cold air rushed inside. Before I could gather the skirt around my legs, a hand grabbed my arm and dragged me forward. I stumbled down the step and landed hard on my knees in the dirt.
Pain shot through my palms.
“Get up.” A guard hauled me to my feet and shoved me forward.
Around me, other girls from Silvermoon were being pulled from the carriages. Daughters of Elders. Daughters of wealthy noble families. Girls who had grown up protected behind the walls of Silvermoon Castle.
Now some were crying openly. Others looked too shocked to make a sound.
I turned, expecting to see the gates of a palace.
Instead, I froze.
We were standing in the middle of an open-air arena.
Rows of seats rose high above us, packed with Blackmoon warriors. Thousands of voices crashed together until the whole place seemed to vibrate.
Silvermoon had lost.
And this was how Blackmoon celebrated.
“Look at the new set of breeders!”
Laughter followed.
“Silvermoon lost! Their women belong to us now!”
My stomach twisted.
I kept walking when the guards pushed me, but my eyes moved desperately around the arena.
The pressure in the air was almost unbearable. There were too many powerful wolves in one place. My chest felt tight, and every breath came harder than the last.
“Move faster,” the guard behind me snapped.
I nearly tripped over another girl who had fallen to her knees.
Then I saw a familiar face.
Celeste.
She was the daughter of Elder Rowan, one of Silvermoon's most respected noble families. Unlike me, Celeste had grown up as a proper noblewoman. She had servants, beautiful clothes, and a family that cared about her.
None of that mattered now.
She was on her knees in the dirt with her hands tied behind her back.
Her blond hair had come loose from its braid, and tears streaked her dusty cheeks.
My heart lurched. “Celeste!”
I tried to move toward her, but a guard slammed an arm across my chest. “Stay in line.”
Celeste looked up when she heard my voice. For a second, relief flashed across her face.
Then fear replaced it.
I remembered the first time she had spoken to me at Silvermoon. I had been fourteen and scrubbing the kitchen floor while the servants ate.
She had slipped me a piece of bread when no one was looking. It had been a small thing. But kindness was rare enough in that castle to feel like a gift.
Now she is here. Like all of us, she was paying for my father's arrogance.
A horn sounded above us.
The crowd slowly quieted.
I followed everyone's gaze to the raised platform overlooking the arena.
Three men sat there.
The man in the center had to be Alpha Ronan. Even from a distance, he carried the kind of authority that made people lower their eyes. He looked down at us with clear disgust.
But my attention moved immediately to the man beside him.
Theodore.
The God of War.
I had heard stories about him for years. The warrior who had never lost a battle. The heir who had crushed rival Packs before the age of twenty-five.
He looked nothing like the monster I had imagined. No scars twisted his face. No rage burned in his eyes.
He simply looked bored.
While the rest of the arena shouted and laughed, Theodore sat back in his chair, one arm resting against the armrest, watching us with the detached expression of someone who couldn't care less about what was happening below.
Beside him sat another man. Dylan, I guessed. Theodore's half-brother.
His gaze moved over the captured girls in a way that made my skin crawl.
Then a giant warrior stepped into the center of the arena.
He was taller than any man I had ever seen, with scars across his bare arms and neck. A leather whip hung from one hand.
“I'll take this one first.” He pointed at Celeste.
The crowd cheered.
Celeste shrank back. “No.” She shook her head violently. “Please. Stay away from me.”
“Shut up, slave!” The whip came down.
CRACK!
Celeste screamed and fell sideways into the dirt.
Blood spread through the torn silk at her shoulder.
The crowd roared.
I couldn't move. For one second, all I could do was stare. Then I saw something else.
My mother.
Seraphina on the floor of our home while my stepmother stood over her. My mother's face turned away. Her body was shaking. And me standing nearby, too afraid to do anything.
I was afraid then, afraid of making things worse, afraid of what they would do to my mother if I fought back.
So I had simply watched.
Again and again.
I begged when they hurt me. I had kept quiet when they hurt her.
And after ten years, where had that gotten us? My mother was still in chains. I had spent my whole life believing that staying quiet would protect us.
It hadn't.
The warrior raised the whip again. “Maybe another one will teach you to stay quiet.”
No.
The word formed in my head before I said it aloud.
I wasn't at Silvermoon anymore.
I wasn't going to spend the rest of my life watching people suffer because I was too afraid to move. Not when I had just promised myself that I would change. Not when my mother was still waiting for me to free her.
“Stop!” The word tore out of me.
The arena went still.
The warrior slowly turned toward me. His arm was still raised.
For one second, I realized what I had done.
A guard tightened his grip on my arm. But I jerked free.
My legs were shaking as I walked toward the center of the arena.
I was still afraid. My heart was pounding. Every instinct in my body told me to turn around and watch quietly like I always did.
But I kept walking. I stopped between the warrior and Celeste.
She stared up at me in horror. “Kesley, don't.”
The giant looked at me. “And who are you supposed to be?”
I swallowed. “Leave her alone.”
For a moment, he only stared. Then the next minute, he burst into laughter. “Leave her alone?” He turned toward the crowd. “Did you hear that? The little Silvermoon princess is giving orders.”
Laughter rolled through the arena.
“You're all slaves now,” he said, stepping closer. “You don't get to tell Blackmoon warriors what to do.”
My pulse pounded in my throat. Part of me wanted to run. But I was tired.
Tired of kneeling. Tired of begging.
Tired of letting stronger people hurt others because I was too frightened to stop them.
I glanced toward the platform.
Theodore was watching me now.
He no longer looked bored.
His eyes were fixed on me.
Dylan leaned toward him and said something I couldn't hear, but Theodore didn't answer.
The giant warrior stepped closer until his shadow fell over me. “What's your name, girl?”
My stomach tightened as I remembered my father's words.
‘You'll wear her clothes. Take her name.’
“Alyssa.” I gritted.
“Wrong answer.” He smiled cruelly. “Here, you answer to whatever your owner calls you.”
A few warriors shouted in approval.
Behind me, Celeste whispered, “Please. Don't make this worse.”
I wanted to tell her I was trying. But I wasn't sure that was true anymore.
The warrior reached down and grabbed my chin hard enough to hurt, but I slapped his hand away.
His smile disappeared. For the first time, real anger crossed his face. “I must admit, princess. You've got spirit,” he said quietly. “That usually disappears after the first beating.”
He coiled the whip around his wrist and handed it to another warrior at the edge of the ring.
He cracked his knuckles. “I think I'll enjoy this more.”
My mouth went dry as I realized what he was about to do. No! He was twice my size. Maybe more.
I had no wolf. No enhanced strength.
Nothing. Just bruises hidden beneath a stolen princess's dress.
He raised his fist.
I stepped back and got into a defensive stance. Old instincts. Years of dodging blows in narrow corridors at Silvermoon.
A murmur ran through the crowd. The warrior noticed too. “What the hell is this?” he mocked. “The princess thinks she can fight?”
I didn't answer. My heart hammered painfully against my ribs. I could hear my breathing. Celeste was crying behind me.
The warrior lunged. His fist came straight toward my face. I tried to move. But he was too fast.
Then, from nowhere, a hand suddenly blocked my way.