"You will have to earn it."

I raised my bleeding hand, bracing myself as the massive shadow lunged from the trees.

The beast didn't hesitate. It slammed into my chest, driving me into the muddy forest floor. Razor-sharp claws tore through my dress, slicing deep into my ribs.

"Get off me!" I yelled.

I grabbed a jagged rock from the dirt and smashed it against the creature's skull. It snarled, shaking off the blow, and sank its teeth into my shoulder.

Agony ripped through my nerves. I kicked upward, catching it in the stomach. The beast stumbled back just enough for me to scramble away. I dragged myself toward the roots of a giant oak tree, leaving a trail of blood in the dirt.

My vision blurred. The Blood Moon above fractured into red shards. The beast stalked closer, its yellow eyes fixed on my throat.

"Kane..." I whispered, my voice failing.

The creature pounced again. I raised my arms to block, but my strength vanished. My head cracked against the tree trunk. The forest faded into absolute black.

***

"Wake her up."

A boot slammed into my ribs.

I gasped, choking on stagnant air. Cold stone scraped against my bare back. I tried to sit up, but my arms wouldn't move. Thick, rune-carved iron cuffs pinned my wrists above my head. The metal burned against my skin, draining the last traces of energy from my veins.

Anti-magic chains.

"She is awake, Alpha," a guard announced.

"Leave us, Kael. Stand by the door," a deep voice commanded.

Heavy footfalls approached my cell. I blinked through the haze of pain and blood loss.

Ezra stood on the other side of the iron bars. The Alpha of the Shadow Veil pack stared at me with hollow, merciless eyes. He wasn't alone.

Lyla clung to his left arm, wearing the glowing moonstone pendant he had given her hours ago.

"Why am I alive?" I spat blood onto the damp floor.

"Do not flatter yourself," Ezra said. "You are not a guest. You are a tool."

"A tool for what?" I asked.

"Leverage," Ezra answered flatly. "Iron Ridge threw away their fated Omega. A stupid move on Kane’s part. But highly useful for me."

"He banished me," I pointed out. "He doesn't want me."

"Pride dictates otherwise," Ezra countered. "He threw you away, but he will despise knowing I possess you. It makes him look weak. You are my insurance policy to keep his borders quiet."

Lyla stepped closer to the bars, her fingers twisting the fabric of Ezra’s black coat.

"Alpha Ezra, please," Lyla murmured, her voice laced with fake terror. "You shouldn't have brought her to your territory. She is dangerous."

"She has no wolf, Lyla," Ezra said. His harsh tone softened entirely as he addressed her.

"You don't know her like I do," Lyla insisted. "She hates me for taking Kane. She hates you for giving me the Luna's blessing. She holds a vicious grudge."

"I hold the truth," I shot back.

"Listen to her!" Lyla gasped, shrinking behind Ezra’s broad frame. "The moment she breaks free, she will come after me. She will kill us both in our sleep."

"You lying snake," I snarled. I yanked at the chains. The iron cut into my wrists, sending fresh blood dripping down my forearms.

Ezra stepped forward, shielding Lyla completely from my view. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

"Control yourself, Omega," Ezra warned.

"You are protecting a fraud!" I yelled. "She has no magic! She uses dark arts!"

"Jealousy is a pathetic trait, Serena," Ezra said.

"It is the truth!"

"Enough," Ezra commanded. He turned slightly to Lyla, offering her a reassuring nod. "You have nothing to fear. She will never leave this cell."

"Are you certain?" Lyla asked, her eyes wide and innocent. "She always finds a way to ruin things."

"She is a hostage," Ezra stated. He looked back at me, his expression turning to stone. "She has no rights here. No privileges. She is meat on a hook."

A bloody smile stretched across my face. It was the only defense I had left.

"Meat on a hook," I repeated. "Make sure the hook is sharp, Alpha."

Ezra’s jaw tightened. He didn't like the defiance in my tone.

"Kael," Ezra called out.

The guard stepped back into the torchlight. "Yes, Alpha?"

"She needs a lesson in respect," Ezra ordered.

"She is bleeding out, Alpha," Kael noted, glancing at the dark puddle forming beneath my torn ribs. "If I strike her again, she might not survive the night."

Ezra looked at the wounds the beast had left on my body. He showed zero pity.

"I did not tell you to strike her," Ezra said. "Pour salt on the lacerations. Keep her awake."

Lyla smiled. A tiny, vicious upward curve of her lips that vanished the second Ezra glanced in her direction.

"Let us go back upstairs," Ezra told Lyla. "The damp air down here is not good for your health."

"Thank you for protecting me, Ezra," Lyla whispered.

"Ezra!" I shouted. "You are making a mistake!"

He didn't stop walking. He didn't even turn his head. He guided Lyla up the stone steps, leaving me in the dark with his enforcer.

Kael walked over to a wooden barrel near the cell door. He plunged his hand inside and pulled out a fistful of coarse, gray rock salt.

"Hold still, rogue," Kael laughed.

He unlocked the cell door and stepped inside.

"Don't touch me," I warned, kicking my leg out.

Kael caught my ankle and shoved my leg hard against the wall. The rough stone scraped the skin off my shoulder. He pinned me down with his knee.

"The Alpha gave an order," Kael sneered.

He jammed the handful of salt directly into the open claw marks on my ribs.

I screamed. Fire erupted across my torso. Every nerve ending screamed in agony. I thrashed violently against the iron cuffs, tearing my own skin to escape the burning pain.

Up on the stairs, Ezra paused. He looked down through the heavy iron grate.

"Quiet her down," Ezra called out, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Lyla has a headache."

Kael pulled his fist back and struck me across the jaw.

My head snapped to the side. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. My vision swam, the torchlight blurring into a single streak of orange flame.

Kael stood up, wiping his bloody hands on his trousers. He walked out of the cell and slammed the iron door shut. The lock clicked into place.

Footsteps faded up the stairs. The heavy wooden door at the top of the dungeon slammed shut, plunging the room into near absolute darkness.

I hung from the chains. Blood dripped from my chin onto my collarbone. The salt continued to burn into my flesh, keeping me agonizingly awake.

I closed my eyes, trying to focus on my breathing.

Then, a low scraping sound echoed from the far corner of the cell.

Someone else was in the dark with me.

"They left you a mess," a raspy, unfamiliar voice whispered from the shadows.

I jerked my head up. "Who is there?"

A pair of glowing silver eyes opened in the pitch black.

"Just a prisoner," the voice replied. "But your blood... it smells exactly like the prophecy."

"She has no wolf." The scarred elder, Torin, paced around me in a tight circle.

"Her aura is completely dead," Torin continued, his voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings of the great hall. "Iron Ridge didn't banish a threat. They tossed out their garbage."

Kael kicked the back of my knee. I hit the marble floor hard, my bones rattling against the stone.

"A useless hostage," Kael sneered. "Kill her, Alpha. Slit her throat and send her head back to Kane in a wooden box."

Ezra lounged on his obsidian throne. He didn't look angry. He looked entirely bored.

"Is this true, Serena?" Ezra asked. "Are you completely powerless?"

"My magic is bound," I answered.

"Bound or broken, the result is exactly the same," Torin argued, pointing a crooked finger at my face. "She holds zero value. Kane won't trade a single copper coin for her return."

"Execution is the only logical step," another council member agreed from the shadows. "Why feed a mouth that offers no advantage?"

I pressed my bleeding palms against the cold stone. I had to survive. If I died here, Kane and Lyla won. My parents' legacy would end in a puddle of blood on a foreign floor.

"Spare me," I said.

The great hall went dead silent.

"What did you say?" Ezra leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist.

"I beg you to spare my life," I repeated. I forced the words through my teeth. I lowered my head until my forehead touched the icy floor, abandoning every ounce of pride I had left.

"You beg?" Ezra mocked. "The former future Luna of Iron Ridge, groveling like a stray mutt?"

"I am no Luna," I said. "I am nothing. I will never return to Iron Ridge. Just let me live."

"Why should I?" Ezra asked. "You consume my resources. You take up space."

"I will work. I will scrub your floors. I will clean your stables. I will do the labor your people refuse to do."

Kael laughed harshly. "She can barely stand up straight."

"I will earn my keep," I insisted, staring directly at Ezra's heavy boots.

Ezra stood. He walked down the steps, stopping inches from my face.

"You have no pride left," Ezra noted.

"Pride doesn't keep a heart beating," I replied.

"Fine," Ezra declared, turning his back on me. "Strip her of those rags. Give her the gray tunic. She belongs to the scullery now. Make sure she suffers for every scrap of bread she eats."

***

Two weeks passed. My hands blistered, cracked, and bled.

I knelt in the central courtyard, scrubbing the mud from the cobblestones. The midday sun beat down on my aching back.

"Hey, useless!" A wet rag slapped against the back of my head.

I turned around. A burly scullery maid named Greta stood over me, her hands planted on her wide hips.

"You missed a spot," Greta sneered.

"I scrubbed that section twice," I said, my voice hoarse from thirst.

"Are you talking back to me?" Greta kicked my scrub brush across the yard. "Go fetch it, stray. Before I tell Kael you're slacking."

I crawled across the rough stones to retrieve the brush. My knees scraped against the gravel, tearing open fresh wounds.

The heavy iron gates suddenly swung open.

"Make way for the Alpha!" a guard shouted.

I kept my head down and scrubbed harder. The coarse bristles tore at my raw skin.

Ezra strode into the courtyard. Lyla clung tightly to his arm. She wore a pristine white dress, completely untouched by the dusty roads of the outer territory.

"Careful on the stones, Lyla," Ezra instructed, wrapping a protective arm around her waist.

"You spoil me, Ezra," she giggled, leaning her head against his chest.

"You are the only one who deserves it," he replied. His voice held a warmth I had never heard before.

Shadow Veil wolves gathered around them quickly. They bowed their heads in deep respect.

Ezra raised his free hand. "Hear me. Lyla of Iron Ridge is my chosen. She is my guiding light. Anyone who disrespects her answers directly to my blade."

Murmurs of approval rippled through the pack.

"Thank you, Ezra," Lyla whispered. "You make me feel so safe."

I plunged my brush into the bucket of soapy water. The sharp splash drew Lyla's attention.

She stopped walking. Her spotless white shoes paused inches from my bruised hands.

"Oh, Serena," Lyla sighed. "Look at what you have become."

"Move," I muttered, refusing to look up.

"You shouldn't speak to me like that," Lyla said, her tone thick with fake sympathy. "I could ask Ezra to give you better quarters. A softer bed, perhaps?"

"I don't need your pity," I told her.

Ezra stepped between us. He kicked my bucket hard. Filthy water splashed across my face and soaked my thin gray tunic.

"Do not speak to her," Ezra snapped. "You are dirt beneath her feet, servant."

I wiped the dirty water from my eyes. I didn't flinch. I didn't cry. The last fragment of hope in my chest froze solid. Let them play their twisted game. I just needed to survive long enough to find a way out.

"Get back to work," Ezra commanded. He guided Lyla away, his hand resting gently on the small of her back.

I picked up the brush. I scrubbed the stones.

***

Midnight. The servant's quarters in the cellar.

I collapsed onto a thin pile of straw. My ribs throbbed relentlessly. The salt Kael rubbed into my wounds days ago still festered, sending sharp spikes of agony through my nervous system.

I closed my eyes, shivering in the damp cold.

A sudden breeze swept through the windowless room.

A shadow detached from the far corner.

I scrambled backward, pressing my spine against the rough stone wall. "Who is there?"

A tall, broad figure stepped into the sliver of moonlight filtering through the floorboards above. He wore a dark cloak. His face remained hidden beneath a heavy hood, but I recognized the glowing silver eyes immediately.

The prisoner from the dungeon.

He knelt beside my straw bed. He didn't speak.

"Did Ezra send you to finish me off?" I asked.

He shook his head. He reached out, holding his large, calloused hand inches above my torn ribs.

Silver mist flowed from his palm. It wrapped around my torso. The searing pain vanished instantly. The infected flesh knit together, leaving behind smooth, unblemished skin. The magic seeped into my pores, feeling like warm sunlight piercing through a frozen lake.

I stared at him in pure shock. "You have magic."

He lowered his hand.

"Why are you helping me?" I whispered.

He stood up, towering over me in the cramped space.

"Survive, Serena," a deep, rough voice echoed directly into my mind.

He turned toward the wooden door.

"Wait," I called out, pushing myself up. "Give me a name."

He paused at the threshold. The shadows seemed to bend and warp around his massive frame.

"Lucian," he answered aloud.

He vanished into the dark corridor.

I looked down at the floor. A wooden bowl of fresh water and a wrapped loaf of warm bread sat near my feet.

I grabbed the bread, tearing off a piece.

Heavy boots stomped down the hallway.

The door slammed open, smashing against the stone wall.

Kael stood in the doorway, a cruel smile twisting his face. He held a rusted iron collar in his hands.

"Get up, rogue," Kael ordered. "The Alpha has a new job for you."