The Desperate Volunteer

High above the sprawling grounds of the grand royal palace, King Darius Morvan stood still on his shadowed balcony. The cool night wind tugged at his dark clothes, making the heavy fabric snap against his rigid, unyielding posture. He smoked beneath the pale moonlight, exhaling thick plumes of grey smoke that dissolved into the midnight air. Below him, the grand capital stretched out like a glittering web of lies and ambition, but he paid it no mind. His broad shoulders carried the immense, suffocating weight of his cursed lineage. It was a burden that seemed to anchor him to the stone beneath his feet, a dark legacy that demanded a steep price in blood and terror.

"Is everything ready?" Darius asked, not bothering to turn around. His voice was a low, commanding rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards and into the bones of anyone standing near him.

His assistant, standing a respectful distance away in the shadows of the arched doorway, bowed his head deep. He knew better than to step too close to the Lycan King when he was in this brooding state. "Yes, Your Majesty," the assistant confirmed. "The preparations are complete. The carriages bearing the kingdom's hopeful females are merely hours away from arriving at the main gates."

Darius turned his head. The silver moonlight caught his icy blue eyes, making them gleam like polished blades in the dark. He narrowed them, taking another slow, deliberate drag of his cigarette. "Good. Did you heed the cryptic warnings of the palace witch?"

"Yes, sire. Every ward she demanded has been set in place, and the selection hall is secured."

Darius tapped the ash from his cigarette over the balcony ledge, a calculated shadow passing over his striking features. He issued a final, chilling caveat. "But if nothing happens before I pick one of them, make sure to keep aside the strong-headed one. The one that no one would care about if they were dead. I need an expendable contingency plan for this dangerous court."

"Understood, my king. It will be done."

****

Selah's POV

The damp earth stained my torn dress, soaking the freezing moisture straight into my bruised knees as I knelt in the dense, silent forest. I stared down at Maeve's shattered, lifeless body, unable to tear my eyes away from the gruesome reality of her death. The sight of her twisted arm and crushed throat burned into my retinas. A suffocating cloud of guilt consumed my mind, pressing against my skull with such immense pressure I thought I would scream into the empty woods.

My own sister, Vespera, had orchestrated this brutal execution. She had looked me right in the eyes, faking a migraine, and lured me away to blindly gather trivial tarline flowers in the wild bushes. While I was distracted, while I was desperate to help her, she ordered my only friend’s slaughter.

Maeve had warned me about them. She had been right all along. Stockholm syndrome—that was my true curse. Vespera was the only remaining blood I had left in this miserable world. I had clung to her because I was terrified of being truly alone. And Vespera had weaponized my desperate love, twisting my loyalty to suit her cruel, murderous will.

Hot tears blurred my vision, spilling over my eyelashes and dropping onto the bloody soil beneath my knees. I pressed my trembling hands together and looked up through the thick canopy of ancient trees. "Moon Goddess," I whispered, my voice a fragile, broken rasp. "Please. Take her pure soul into your realm. Give her the peace she was brutally denied in this life."

With shaking, blood-stained fingers, I gathered broad green leaves from the forest floor. I gently placed them over Maeve's pale, vacant face, mourning the brave friend I had failed to protect.

By the time our carriage arrived at the towering gates of the grand royal palace, I was numb. My soul felt hollowed out, leaving behind a cold, empty void. Vespera stepped down from the carriage, wearing a stunning emerald gown that shimmered under the carriage lanterns. Her violet eyes swept over my grief-stricken face, devoid of a single ounce of remorse.

"It was meant to happen and you know that," Vespera remarked with a cold tone, adjusting her silk gloves as if she had not just ordered a murder.

Zane stepped down beside her. His freezing, contemptuous gaze swept over my dirt-stained form, his lip curling in disgust. "Don't forget your place," he snapped, shoving a heavy leather bag toward my chest. "You will attend to Vespera's every need without fail. And you should be grateful. Consider this a one-week reprieve from your usual whippings."

"Yes, alpha," I replied obediently, forcing my facial muscles to form a hollow, subservient smile. They had slaughtered Maeve merely for showing me kindness, for healing the wounds they inflicted. My only focus now was pure survival.

I struggled under the immense weight of their heavy, luxurious luggage, my arms trembling with exhaustion. The leather straps bit into my bruised palms as I staggered through the grand courtyard and into the breathtaking Grand Hall. The sheer opulence of the palace was overwhelming. Intricate gold accents lined the towering marble pillars, and massive crystal chandeliers cast a brilliant, warm glow over the gathering crowds. It was a stark contrast to the hollow darkness festering inside me.

Nobles in glittering attire and rushing servants formed a chaotic, bustling sea of bodies. Within seconds, I lost sight of Zane and Vespera. I hoisted the bags higher on my aching shoulders, scanning the sea of heads with growing panic. Finally, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Vespera's emerald gown disappearing up a winding, secluded staircase near the edge of the hall.

I hurried after her, my boots muffled by the thick velvet carpet. But as I reached the upper landing, I froze outside an ajar doorway.

A horrifying, hushed conversation drifted into the corridor. It turned my blood to ice.

"Is the poison potent as you claimed?" Vespera inquired, her tone sharp and eager.

A rough, masculine voice answered. It belonged to a hired henchman. "Of course. It is cleverly disguised within this perfume bottle. Give it to her as a gift. Once she sprays it on her skin, the lethal compound will enter her bloodstream. It will kill her inner wolf first. Then, it will stop her heart. Within a mere twenty-four hours, your sister will be dead, and no healer will be able to trace it."

Vespera let out a low, wicked chuckle that echoed with sheer delight. The sound made my stomach churn with nausea. "Perfect. I no longer need my useless sister. With her stupid friend dead, she might become rebellious, and I cannot risk that."

"Why go to such lengths for your own blood?" the henchman hummed.

"Mind your business," Vespera sneered, her voice dripping with venomous greed. "She served her purpose. Zane and I framed her for the councilman's death. Because she took the fall, Zane was able to legally confiscate the dead man's vast wealth from his hidden safe. Now, we are utilizing that stolen fortune to bribe his way into a coveted political position close to the Lycan King." She sighed happily. "Good, sweet power. Gosh, I can't wait."

Terrified, my heart hammered against my ribs. I pressed a hand to my mouth to stifle my ragged breathing. But beneath the raw terror, my mind reeled with crystal-clear clarity. The veil was lifted. They didn't just hate me. They had orchestrated my misery from the very beginning. And now, they were going to assassinate me.

I turned on my heel and slipped away into the shadows.

****

Later that evening, the heavy scent of fear and expensive perfume hung in the air of the crowded, opulent Great Hall. I stood still and quiet in the shadows behind my abusers. All the eligible females were lined up like lambs before the slaughter, their hands shaking as they awaited their doom.

Suddenly, a booming voice commanded silence. The massive oak doors swung open with a resounding crash.

King Darius made his grand, imposing entrance. He was devastatingly handsome. His dark hair was styled with effortless precision, and a dark tattoo peeked out from the collar of his royal garments, hinting at the lethal strength beneath. But his looks were overshadowed by his presence. He radiated a dark, suffocating, terrifying aura that silenced the entire room. He carried the undisputed presence of an apex predator, stepping down the grand staircase as if he owned the very air we breathed.

"Weaklings," Darius scoffed. His deep voice carried easily over the terrified females, sending chills down the spines of everyone present. "We all know why you are gathered here. To see me choose again another bride who would probably end up dead."

A collective shudder ran through the line of women. Some squeezed their eyes shut, silently praying to the Goddess they wouldn't be chosen by the cursed king.

Darius leaned back, resting his hand on his thigh. "So… I am just going to randomly choose, as I am too lazy to start knowing all your names."

His uncaring, icy gaze swept across the terrified room. As he analyzed the trembling women, I slowly turned my head and stared directly at the back of Vespera's head. Her emerald dress gleamed. She looked flawless. Untouchable.

My heart turned to pure, unyielding stone. She was going to assassinate me tonight. If I stayed with her, my wolf would die, and my heart would stop beating within twenty-four hours.

I desperately needed to survive. I needed to make her suffer for the agonizing pain, the betrayals, and the innocent blood she had forced me to choke down. I wanted to see her perfect, arrogant life crumble to dust.

But I couldn't exact any measure of revenge if I was a corpse. And I couldn't crush an Alpha and a Luna without wielding immense power. I needed something stronger than them. Someone more terrifying than them.

Driven by blinding desperation and a lack of alternatives, I stepped out from the shadows. I bypassed Zane. I walked right past Vespera. I moved into the center of the grand floor and confidently raised my hands high into the air.

"I volunteer to be your Luna, your majesty."

That was the last sentence I made before the entire world went into deafening chaos.