The first opportunity came at midnight.
The guards changed shifts, the training fields emptied, and for once, no eyes burned into my back.
I slipped out of the barracks, moving low and silent across the muddy ground, my bare feet raw but sure.
The fortress gates loomed ahead — thick iron, spiked and scarred from old battles.
I reached them, heart thundering, and clawed at the ancient mechanism, blood smearing the rusted lock.
One click. Two.
Almost there—
A shadow moved behind me.
Before I could react, a hand slammed into the back of my neck, shoving me hard against the gate.
The metal bit into my skin.
A low, furious growl rumbled against my ear.
Lucian.
Of course it was him.
"You think you can run from me?" he snarled, his body caging mine against the cold iron.
I twisted against him, furious. "Let me go, you bastard! You have no right to keep me!"
Lucian spun me around, gripping my wrists tight, his face inches from mine.
His chest heaved with restrained rage.
His eyes burned like molten gold.
"No right?" he rasped. "You bear my blood. You wear my crown. You are mine, Seraphina. I don't need permission."
I struggled, shoving at him with everything I had.
He barely moved.
The blood bond between us sizzled, pulling at me, binding me tighter with every furious breath.
Lucian's hand slid from my wrist to my throat — not choking, just holding. Claiming.
His forehead dropped against mine.
"You have no idea what you've awakened in me," he whispered, voice raw and broken.
Neither of us moved.
The air between us thickened, darkened, crackling with something brutal and magnetic.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I hated him.
I wanted him.
I wanted to tear him apart and drown in him all at once.
His lips hovered over mine — so close, so unbearably close — his breath hot and wild.
For one shattered second, I thought he might kiss me.
I thought I might let him.
But he pulled back with a curse, shoving me roughly away.
"You're not ready," he growled, like it tore him apart to say it. "And I don't take what isn't freely given."
I staggered, breathing hard.
Lucian raked a hand through his dark, wild hair, turning his back to me like he couldn't stand the sight of me.
"Run again," he said coldly. "And next time, I won't be so merciful."
I opened my mouth to hurl something vicious back at him —
—and then the arrow flew.
It whistled through the night air, deadly and fast.
Lucian moved like lightning, knocking me aside just as the arrow buried itself deep into the gate where my head had been.
Shouts erupted from the shadows.
An ambush.
Inside his own kingdom.
Lucian shoved me behind him, his wolf already clawing under his skin.
Three figures charged from the darkness — rogues — but not his loyal ones.
Rebels.
Traitors.
Lucian shifted mid-stride, massive and terrifying, ripping into them with brutal force.
Blood sprayed the stones.
Screams tore through the night.
I scrambled to the ground, grabbing the fallen arrow.
Not a rogue weapon.
Silver-tipped.
Poisoned.
Designed for me.
Designed to kill me.
Someone inside Lucian's kingdom wanted me dead.
And they didn't care if they had to take Lucian down to get to me.
I clutched the arrow to my chest, heart pounding.
Maybe Lucian was my captor.
Maybe he was my enemy.
But he was also the only shield I had in this vicious, broken world.
For now.
Lucian turned, blood dripping from his jaws, his gold eyes locking onto mine.
The bond between us flared — vicious, possessive, undeniable.
And I knew, with a sick, shattering certainty:
There was no escaping this storm.
Only surviving it.
Or being destroyed by it.