The North Tower

I stared at the nurse, tears blurring my vision into a smear of white and grey. She smiled sadly, pulling a small purple vial from her apron.

"Please," I whispered, my fingers locking around her wrists. "You can’t send me to him. He’s a monster. I have a grandmother... she's all I have. Please don't let him do this."

"It is out of my hands, child," she replied, her voice soft but firm as she pried my fingers away. "Disobedience costs a head in this palace. My only advice? Do not provoke the Alpha. Yield to his whims, ask no questions, and you may survive the night."

"I won't be sent to a brothel," I hissed through my tears. "I’ll fight. I’ll make a scene they’ll never forget."

The nurse’s gaze turned clinical and stern. "There is no one to hear you scream inside these walls, little minnow. An attitude like that will only ensure you don’t see the sunrise. Now, hush. Drink."

"What is it? More poison?" I glared at the bottle. "The pain is already dulling. My wolf is enough."

"It’s a miracle-grow for bone marrow," she chuckled, unscrewing the cap. "Your wolf has handled the flesh, but your ribs are still shards. This will knit them back together."

I downed the liquid. It was ice-cold, tasting of sharp peppermint, but as it hit my stomach, it blossomed into a roaring inferno. My insides felt branded by the heat. The nurse nodded in approval before turning to the guard.

"The potion is working. Ser Criston, escort her to the North Tower. And may the Moon Mother watch over you, girl."

The pain vanished as I walked, my body feeling eerily light. Ser Criston led me up winding staircases of polished stone until we reached a high, arched bridge connecting two wings of the fortress. Below, the royal gardens were a masterpiece of granite benches and rosebushes that looked like splashes of spilled ink in the moonlight.

"The Alpha resides here, in the North Tower," Criston explained, sensing my hesitation. "The Shadow Prince keeps to the South. The rest is for the council and the courts. You’ll likely never leave this spire."

He knocked twice on a set of massive golden doors. They groaned open to reveal a living area that was as cold as it was opulent. Stained glass windows overlooked a moonlit lake, and heavy crimson drapes framed the room like theater curtains. A fire roared in a marble hearth, casting long, dancing shadows over a fur rug that looked suspiciously like a defeated rival.

A door creaked, and a slender blonde girl stepped out, a smirk playing on her lips.

"I am Davina," she cooed, her hand resting elegantly on her hip. "His Highness's newest bedmaiden. He chose me personally, you see. I can’t imagine why he’d want a look at you, but he's waiting. And a Prince hates to be kept waiting."

I followed the "stuck-up cow" into the bedchamber. My breath caught. The room was dominated by a massive four-poster bed draped in white silk. Lying there, half-clad and radiating a terrifyingly casual power, was the Alpha Prince.

I averted my eyes instantly, the familiar heat crawling up my neck. Inside, Samba was a whirlwind, howling with a desperate, primal longing that made my knees weak.

"Davina, bring her here," the Prince ordered, his voice a lazy, dangerous drawl. He didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed on the blonde. "And stop scowling, girl, or I’ll send you back to the servant quarters."

Davina seized my hand, dragging me to the edge of the bed. I stared at the floorboards, my heart drumming a frantic rhythm.

"You’re healed. Good," he declared, swinging his tree-trunk legs off the bed. He stood, towering over us both. "I need a bath. Davina, run the water. You will assist me."

Davina beamed, scurrying into the adjoining bathroom. I stood frozen, acutely aware of the stench of dried blood and street grime clinging to my skin. Suddenly, the Prince was behind me. I felt the heat of his body before he even touched me. He leaned in, burying his nose in the crook of my neck. He inhaled sharply—then recoiled as if my skin had turned to white-hot iron.

"You smell revolting," he growled, his voice thick with a strange disgust. "No wonder you were left in the dirt. You should be ashamed to call yourself a woman."

He stormed off, slamming the bathroom door with a force that rattled the frames on the walls. I collapsed onto the floor, the weight of the day finally breaking me. I sobbed into my hands, the injustice of it all burning worse than the potion. I wasn't usually a mess of mud and gore; I had been beaten, kidnapped, and caged, and now I was being mocked for the scars of it.

Suddenly, a roar echoed from the bathroom.

"GET OUT! I DON'T WANT YOU! DO NOT TOUCH ME!"

The door flew open. Davina stumbled out, her face deathly pale and her clothes in disarray. She was trembling, tears streaming down her face as she looked at me in sheer terror.

"He kicked me out," she stammered, her voice a broken whisper. "He... he only wants you."