The iron shackles bit into Elena's wrists, cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the searing heat of the torches lining the Great Hall of the North Ridge Pack. The air was thick with the scent of wet fur, stale ale, and the suffocating musk of predatory intent.
Around her, the wolves howled—not the soulful cries of the wild, but the guttural, bloodthirsty roars of men who had forgotten their humanity.
"Kneel, human," a voice rasped.
A heavy boot slammed into the back of Elena's knee. She collapsed onto the stone floor, the impact jarring her teeth. She refused to cry out. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
At the far end of the hall, seated on a throne carved from the obsidian of the Cursed Mountains, sat Fenrir, the Alpha King. He didn't look like a monster. He looked like a god of war—broad-shouldered, eyes like molten gold, and hair as dark as a moonless night. But Elena knew better. She was the 'Tribute,' a polite term for a blood sacrifice meant to appease the ancient treaty between the dying human villages and the rising wolf empire.
Fenrir leaned forward, his gaze tracking the drop of sweat rolling down Elena's neck. "You smell of terror," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in Elena's very marrow. "It's a pity. I prefer my meals to have a bit more... spirit."
He stood up, the movement fluid and lethal. As he descended the steps toward her, the hall fell into a lethal silence.
This is it, Elena thought, closing her eyes. I'm going to die in this filth.
Suddenly, a sound like shattering glass echoed inside her skull.
[DING!]
[God-Level Contractor System Initialized.] [Host Identity Confirmed: Elena Vance.] [Synchronizing Soul... 100% Complete.]
Elena froze. The world around her seemed to slow. The flickering torchlight stretched into long, amber fingers. Fenrir was ten paces away, his hand reaching for the silver dagger at his belt.
[Emergency Quest Triggered: The First Bond.] [Objective: Establish a physical mana-link with a Sovereign Class entity.] [Target: Alpha King Fenrir.] [Requirement: Direct contact of the lips (The Kiss of Desecration).] [Time Remaining: 00:59... 00:58...]
A kiss? Elena's mind screamed. He's about to rip my throat out, and you want me to kiss him?
[Warning: Failure to complete the mission will result in Immediate Soul Dissolution. 00:52...]
Fenrir reached her. He gripped her chin with fingers like steel talons, forcing her to look up into those terrifying gold eyes. "Any last words, little rabbit?"
Elena looked at his cruel, perfect lips. Then she looked at the timer glowing in her peripheral vision.
Forty seconds.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice trembling not with fear, but with a sudden, desperate rage. "I have one."
Fenrir tilted his head, a smirk playing on his face. "Tell me."
"This."
Before he could react, Elena lunged. Using the weight of her shackles for momentum, she threw herself upward. Her hands—clamped in iron—snagged his fur-lined cloak, pulling him down.
The hall gasped as one. Fenrir's eyes widened, the pupils contracting into slits.
Then, her lips crashed against his.
It wasn't a romantic kiss. It was a collision of desperation and dominance. Fenrir's skin was burning hot, and he tasted like winter and iron.
[Target Contact Confirmed.] [Uploading Virus-Link... 10%... 40%...]
Fenrir's entire body went rigid. A low, dangerous growl built in his chest, a sound that should have signaled Elena's death. His hand flew to her throat, squeezing until black spots danced in her vision.
But he didn't pull away. He couldn't.
[80%... 95%...]
A shockwave of blue electricity erupted from the point where their lips met, throwing the nearest guards backward. Fenrir's gold eyes flickered to a brilliant, neon blue.
[BOND ESTABLISHED!] [First Sovereign Bound: Fenrir, the North Ridge King.] [Current Favorability: -50 (Hostile/Intrigued)] [Attribute Unlocked: Lunar Strength (Passive).]
Elena was shoved back so hard she hit the base of the throne. She gasped for air, her throat bruised, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
Fenrir stood frozen in the center of the hall. He touched his lips with a trembling hand, his expression a mask of pure, unadulterated shock. The blue glow in his eyes faded, but the connection remained—a thin, invisible tether pulling at Elena's soul, anchored directly to the monster before her.
"What..." Fenrir's voice was no longer a rumble; it was a rasp of disbelief. "What did you do to me, human?"
Elena wiped blood from her lip and managed a jagged smile, even as the system notifications began to flood her vision.
[Level Up! Current Level: 2] [New Skill Acquired: Beast-Tongue Insight.] [Warning: The King is enraged. Run or Subjugate.]
Fenrir drew his sword, the silver blade gleaming with a hungry light. "I asked you a question!"
"I didn't do anything," Elena lied, her voice gaining strength as she felt a strange, cold power coursing through her veins. "The moon simply decided you belonged to me."