ISLA'S POV
I wake to softness.
It's such a foreign sensation that for a moment, I don't understand what it means. My muscles are so accustomed to pain that comfort feels like a lie. My mind, still half-caught in fever dreams, insists this is another hallucination. Another cruel trick before death finally claims me.
But the softness doesn't fade.
I open my eyes slowly, and the first thing I see is sunlight streaming through a window so large it takes up an entire wall. The room around me is enormous—stone walls that reach impossibly high, carved with symbols I don't recognize. The bed beneath me is massive and draped in silver cloth that feels like clouds against my skin.
This is a palace.
This is somewhere important.
Fear jolts through me, and I try to sit up. The movement sends lightning through my ribs, but I ignore it. My hand immediately goes to my stomach, checking. Searching. Desperate to know if the baby is—
"Relax," a familiar voice says. "The baby is fine."
I spin around, and there's Kaia, sitting in a chair by the window like she's been keeping watch. My friend looks different here—cleaned up, dressed in clothes that fit properly, her wild rogue energy somehow both more dangerous and more at home.
"Where are we?" I ask, my voice hoarse from disuse. "How long have I been asleep?"
"Two days," Kaia says, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. "And we're in Shadowveil. The Lycan King's fortress."
The words don't make sense.
"That's not possible," I say. "The Lycan King is a myth. Packs use him to scare children into obedience. He doesn't—"
"He exists," Kaia interrupts, and there's something in her voice—awe mixed with fear. "And apparently, he's the one who saved us in that cave. Isla, do you understand what that means? The masked man? The one you made a bargain with?"
"Cassian," I whisper, remembering the way my name sounded in his voice. The way his hand felt on my stomach.
"That's him," Kaia confirms. "Cassian Nightshade. The Lycan King. The most powerful being in all werewolf territories. Alphas literally fear him. Packs send tributes to stay on his good side. And you..." Kaia leans forward, her eyes intense. "He claimed you as his own in front of his entire pack."
I should be terrified.
I should be planning escape routes. Should be figuring out how to get away from this fortress and this powerful being who clearly wants something from me. Should be doing anything except lying here feeling safe for the first time since my world broke.
But I'm too numb to be afraid.
Maybe it's the remnants of fever. Maybe it's exhaustion. Maybe it's the simple fact that I've already lost everything, so there's nothing left to be afraid of losing.
"The baby?" I ask instead.
"Healthy," a new voice says.
I look toward the doorway, and a woman enters—older, with silver streaking her dark hair and eyes that seem to see straight through me. She carries herself with authority, moving to the side of the bed with practiced efficiency.
"I am Healer Margot," she says, already examining my ribs without asking permission. But there's no cruelty in it, only professionalism. "The infection is nearly clear. The binding curse is broken. Your pup is developing normally despite the trauma."
"Curse?" I ask. "What curse?"
Margot exchanges a look with Kaia. "The one that bound your wolf," she says simply. "The one that made you wolfless."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
"That's not possible," I say. "I was born wolfless. I'm just—"
"You were cursed," Margot interrupts gently. "Someone bound your wolf before you could ever shift. Which means, technically, it's still there. Still waiting. Still powerful."
I want to argue. I want to tell her she's wrong. But something in her certainty makes me believe her. And the thought of a wolf inside me—a wolf I never knew existed—is almost more terrifying than Cassian himself.
Margot finishes her examination and nods sharply. "Rest. Drink the tea I've left. Your body needs time to heal fully, but barring complications, both you and the child will be fine."
She leaves, and I'm alone with Kaia again.
"He took care of us," Kaia says quietly. "While you were fevering. Cassian. He sat with you for hours, checking on you, making sure you didn't get worse. He's..." Kaia struggles for words. "He's not what I expected. He's terrifying, yes. But he's not cruel."
"He wants something from me," I say. It's not a question. "He didn't pull me out of the Rogue Lands from kindness."
"No," Kaia agrees. "But that doesn't mean he didn't mean what he said. About keeping you safe. About making you queen."
Queen.
The word is foreign. Impossible.
I'm thinking about how to respond when the door opens again, and suddenly, the entire room feels smaller.
Cassian enters, and unlike before—when he was moving through darkness, when I was half-conscious—I can actually see him now. He's massive, his frame filling the doorway like a shadow. The black cloak he wore in the cave has been replaced with dark clothes that somehow make him look even more dangerous. Powerful.
And he's still wearing the mask.
The obsidian covers the top half of his face completely, leaving only his jaw and mouth visible. His lips are sculpted, strong, and they curve slightly when he sees me awake.
"Kaia," he says, not taking his eyes off me, "leave us."
It's not a request.
Kaia stands immediately, though I can see it costs her. "If you hurt her—"
"I won't," Cassian says simply. "She's mine to protect now."
The possessiveness in those words should feel suffocating. Instead, it feels like a promise.
Kaia leaves, and suddenly it's just me and the Lycan King in this enormous room, and I'm wearing nothing but a thin sleeping shift, and my heart is beating so hard I'm sure he can hear it.
Cassian moves closer, each step deliberate and controlled. When he reaches the bed, he doesn't sit. He stands over me, and even from this distance, I can feel the power radiating from him.
"How do you feel?" he asks.
"Like I'm dreaming," I answer honestly.
Something that might be amusement flickers across his visible features. "You're not. And we need to talk about our arrangement."
My stomach tightens. "The bargain? The one where I become your Luna Queen?"
"Yes," he says, and he reaches out. His gloved hand brushes a strand of hair from my face with surprising gentleness. "I need to be clear about the terms, Isla. Because once you agree to this—truly agree—there's no going back."
"Okay," I whisper.
"I need you to marry me," he says, his voice dropping lower. "In one month. When you've recovered. I need you to stand beside me as Luna of Shadowveil. I need you to give me an heir—though the child you're carrying will inherit as if they're mine by blood."
The words are stark. Practical. Political.
But his hand is still touching my face, and there's something almost tender about it.
"And in return?" I ask.
His mask tilts slightly, and I swear I see silver eyes gleaming behind the obsidian. "In return, I will give you power beyond your wildest imagination. I will teach you to be the queen you were born to be. I will hunt down every wolf who wronged you and make them kneel at your feet."
He leans closer, and his voice becomes almost a whisper: "And I will never, ever let anyone hurt you again."
The promise in those words is so absolute, so fierce, that my breath catches.
"Why?" I ask. "Why would you do all that for someone you don't even know?"
His hand moves from my face to my stomach, spreading across where the baby is. The gesture is so possessive, so intimate, that I feel heat flood through me.
"Because," he says quietly, "I've been searching for you for years, Isla Thorne. I didn't know your face, but I knew you existed. I knew the moment I saw you in that cave."
"Knew what?" I ask.
And his answer changes everything:
"That you're exactly what I need to break my curse. That you're the missing piece that's going to transform everything. That you're the only one in all of existence who can—"
He stops abruptly.
His entire body goes rigid.
And for the first time since I've met him, I sense fear coming from the Lycan King.
"What?" I ask. "What's wrong?"
His hand moves from my stomach to my arm, gripping tightly. "Your scent," he says, his voice suddenly different. Strained. "It just changed. Isla, did you feel—"
"A flash of heat," I whisper, understanding dawning. "Like before. Like something waking up inside me—"
"The curse," he says, and he stands abruptly, stepping back from the bed. "It's breaking faster than it should. Which means—"
He stops, and when he speaks again, his voice is tight with controlled intensity:
"Your wolf is waking up. And when she fully awakens, everything you think you know about yourself will shatter."