AYASHA'S POV
I stood at the edge of the battlefield, the scent of blood and smoke thick in the air. The clash of steel rang out around me, the music of war. A war we never even asked for.
Women weren't supposed to be on the battlefield. My mother had wrung it in my ears while she clung to my feet and pleaded that I remain hidden in the castle.
But I was just like my brother. Stubborn and damn good with a blade. I donned armor and took my brother's second blade.
"Mother, the Lamia is ruthless. Whitewater needs all the fighting hands it can get," I told her before leaving for the battlefield.
My heart pounded as I scanned the chaos, searching for my brother, Tariq, among the throngs of fighting soldiers.
Whitewater had always known peace under my father's reign. The lush forests and clear rivers had been a haven, untouched by the strife that plagued neighboring lands. But now, the wolves of the Lamia pack had shattered that peace. Led by His Majesty, Nahuel Lamia, they had swept through Whitewater like a storm, leaving destruction in their wake.
I felt my blood grow hot. We had done nothing to deserve this. We had never interacted with those barbarians. This was simply the result of Nahuel's boredom and his cruelty.
My eyes finally locked onto a familiar figure. My brother stood not too far from where I was, his golden armor gleaming in the dim light.
"Tariq!" I screamed, attempting to join my brother, only to come face to face with a Lamia soldier wielding a wicked, bloody axe.
The bastard swung, and I ducked, feeling the rush of air as the axe missed me by inches. I rolled to my feet and slashed upward with my sword, cutting across the soldier's arm. He roared in pain, dropping the axe.
I didn't hesitate. I spun and kicked him in the chest, knocking him back. As he stumbled, I lunged forward, driving my sword into his gut. The soldier gasped, eyes wide with shock, and crumpled to the ground.
Breathing hard, I yanked my sword free and kept moving, my eyes set on reaching my brother.
Tariq was engaged in a fierce battle with the monster himself: Alpha King Nahuel. Despite his skill, I noticed that my brother was struggling. Nahuel moved with lethal grace, each swing of his sword precise and deadly. My breath caught in my throat as I saw my brother stagger, noticing a deep gash across his chest that wasn't healing.
The first thing that Tariq had taught me when I started training with a blade was that an injury and a misstep were enough to be the death of you.
I seemed to be seeing the truth of that in real time.
"No!" I screamed, but my voice was lost in the din. I started forward, but a firm hand grabbed my arm.
"Princess, it's too dangerous!" a guard shouted over the noise.
"I have to help him!" I wrenched free, determination burning in my chest.
I pushed through the fighting, dodging and weaving, my focus solely on reaching my brother. But it was too late. With a final, brutal strike, Nahuel's sword plunged into Tariq's heart. My scream of anguish cut through the battlefield as my brother fell, lifeless, to the ground.
"Brotheeeeer!!"
Nahuel pulled his sword free once the deed was done and his gaze locked onto me. His eyes were cold, devoid of mercy.
I stumbled forward, falling to my knees beside Tariq. I cradled his head in my lap, tears streaming down my face.
"Brother, no..." I whispered, my voice breaking.
A shadow fell over me. I looked up to see Nahuel standing over me, blood-stained sword in hand.
"Is your pack filled with foolish pacifists? I could kill you. But no matter. You are but a woman, and this war is already over," he declared, his voice a rumble of authority. "Your future king is dead, and your current king will follow. Whitewater belongs to the Lamia pack now, and if you want me to spare you, Luna princess, beg for your life."
My heart clenched. There was fear, and there was fury. I glared up at Nahuel, hatred burning in my eyes. "You will pay for this," I spat.
Nahuel raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Brave words, but empty. You are defeated."
Before I could respond, a commotion erupted nearby. My father, the king, was being dragged forward by two of Nahuel's men. He was battered and bloodied, but his eyes still held the fierce determination of a ruler.
"Father!" I cried, rising to my feet.
The king looked at me, pain and sorrow etched into his features. "Ayasha, my brave daughter," he said softly. "I am so sorry."
Nahuel turned to my father, his expression hardening. "Your reign ends here. Your people will now serve under our rule."
My father straightened, his dignity unbroken despite his wounds. "If you must kill me, then do so. But spare my people."
Nahuel considered this for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I will grant you an honorable death."
My father turned to me, his eyes filled with a silent message. I understood. He was ready to die, to join my brother in the meadows under the willow tree. With a heavy heart, I watched as my father let go of his sword, accepting his fate.
"No," I whispered, the word barely audible. My father's resolve must have burned away when my brother died. I couldn't have this happen. Without thinking, I picked up my brother's favorite sword. The weight of the blade under my hands was alien.
My fingers tightened around the hilt, my knuckles turning white. The sword felt heavy, unfamiliar, yet somehow comforting, as if a piece of my brother's spirit had transferred into my grip. I could almost hear Tariq's voice urging me to be strong, to protect our people.
I met Nahuel's gaze, my eyes blazing with defiance. His towering figure cast a shadow over me, but I stood my ground, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. The smirk on Nahuel's lips deepened, a predatory glint in his eyes.
"If you want him, you'll have to go through me," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Nahuel's lips curled into a smirk. "A brave but foolish choice, girl. Very well, I accept your challenge." His voice was a low rumble, filled with both amusement and contempt.
The surrounding soldiers paused, forming a circle around us, their faces a mix of curiosity and disbelief. I could feel their eyes on me, judging, waiting. I shifted my stance, mimicking the way I had seen my brother stand so many times before a duel.
Nahuel raised his sword, the blade glinting in the fading light. He moved with the ease of a seasoned warrior, every motion fluid and controlled. I took a deep breath, pushing down the fear threatening to overwhelm me. I had to focus, had to fight. For my father. For Tariq.
With a sudden burst of speed, Nahuel lunged at me. I barely had time to react, raising my sword just in time to block his strike. The force of the blow reverberated through my arms, nearly knocking me off balance. I gritted my teeth, pushing back with all my strength.
Our swords clashed again and again, the metallic clang echoing through the battlefield. Nahuel was relentless, his attacks swift and powerful. I struggled to keep up, each parry and block costing me precious energy. Sweat dripped down my forehead, stinging my eyes, but I refused to back down.
"You fight well for someone so young," Nahuel taunted, his voice filled with mock admiration. "But you cannot hope to defeat me."
I didn't respond, saving my breath for the fight. I knew he was right; I was outmatched. But I couldn't afford to lose, not now. I had to find a way to outsmart him, to use his confidence against him.
As Nahuel swung his sword in a wide arc, I saw an opening. I ducked under the blade, rolling to the side and coming up behind him. With a swift, decisive strike, I aimed for his unprotected back. But Nahuel was faster, spinning around and deflecting my blow with ease.
He countered with a powerful kick to my chest, sending me sprawling to the ground. The air was knocked from my lungs, pain radiating through my body. I struggled to rise, my vision blurred. Nahuel loomed over me, his sword poised for the killing blow.
"This ends now," he said, his tone final.
Desperation gave me strength. I rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding his strike. Scrambling to my feet, I faced him once more, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. I knew I couldn't keep this up much longer. But I also knew I couldn't give up.
Summoning the last of my strength, I charged at Nahuel with a fierce battle cry. Our swords met in a final, resounding clash. For a moment, we were locked in a stalemate, our eyes locked, wills clashing as fiercely as our blades.
Then, with a sudden, unexpected move, Nahuel disarmed me, sending my sword flying from my grasp. He shoved me to the ground, his foot pressing against my chest, pinning me down. I gasped for breath, the weight of his boot crushing me. But Nahuel stopped my needless struggling by pointing his blade at my throat.
"Enough," Nahuel said, his voice cold and commanding. "You have spirit, I'll give you that. But this fight is over."
I stared up at him, my chest heaving. I had given everything, and it still wasn't enough.
"This is a lesson, girl. Bravery alone does not win battles."
I clenched my jaw, refusing to admit defeat. "I will never submit to you."
Nahuel's eyes narrowed, and he seemed to consider my words. Then, surprisingly, he lowered his sword. "There is another way."
I frowned, confusion mingling with my rage. "What do you mean?"
Nahuel stepped back. "Marry my son, Koda. Unite our packs, and I will spare your father and your people."
My heart lurched. The idea was unthinkable. Marry the son of the man who had destroyed my family and my home? But as I looked around at the devastation, the bodies of my people, I realized I had no choice. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
"Ayasha, do not give in to him! If I die, he will spare the pack."
Nahuel turned to my father and chuckled. "Actually, I lied. I was going to kill everybody. But if your daughter accepts my new terms, I will show mercy." Nahuel then returned his gaze to me. "What do you say, Whitewater princess?"
I met Nahuel's gaze, my voice steady. "I will do it. I will marry your son if it means saving my people."
Nahuel nodded, satisfied. "Wise choice, Princess."
I felt a wave of despair wash over me. My life as I knew it was over, but at least my people would be safe. I looked down at my brother's body one last time, silently vowing to honor his memory and protect our home, no matter the cost.
I would find a way to save Whitewater from the clutches of the Lamia pack. I would make them pay for what they had done. But for now, I would play the part the Lamia demanded of me.
A bride with nowhere to run.