The hours dragged like chains as the troop rode through the winding track. Blue's horse trotted at the tail end of the convoy, the last in line, out of sight, out of mind. No one was watching her.
Not even Dasia, who had tried once or twice to speak with her but gave up when Blue kept her mouth shut and her eyes down.
Eventually, she moved ahead to join the other servants, leaving Blue completely alone.
Perfect.
This was it. Her plan was set, etched into her brain like a map. All she had to do now was wait for the right moment.
And the moment came.
They entered the thickest part of the woods, a shadowed tunnel of twisted trees and fog-drenched silence. Blue pretended to fumble with her saddle, slowing down just enough for the rest of the group to drift far ahead.
No one even noticed she was missing, she was nothing to them, just a mouth to feed. Just a burden.
And then, she bolted.
She yanked the reins and turned east, her horse breaking into a full gallop. The shrieking of distant wolves and the eerie sounds of wild beasts filled the air, cloaking her escape like a shield. Her heart pounded in her ears, drowned out only by the rush of wind and hooves slamming the dirt.
She was running.
She was free.
For nearly an hour, Blue didn't stop. The cold air stung her face, but it didn't matter. She didn't know where she was, only that it was away. Away from the Winters. Away from the agony, the torment, the choking presence of the triplets.
Anything was better than going back.
Eventually, her arms and legs trembled too hard to hold on. She slowed, pulling the horse near a stream, and jumped down to let it drink.
The woods here were silent, thick with moss and decay. She tied the reins to a crooked tree and stretched, just as a rustle in the nearby brush caught her ear.
Curious, she crept forward, her feet crunching lightly on dried leaves. She pushed through a dense patch of branches and froze.
There, nestled among a bed of ferns and rotting bark, lay a strange, smooth egg. Not quite white. Not quite silver. It shimmered faintly with veins of emerald.
Blue blinked. It looked placed, like someone had left it there on purpose.
She crouched, reached out carefully, and picked it up. It was warm almost hot in her palms. She turned it over, studying its strange patterns, when a sudden crack splintered through it.
Blue gasped and dropped it with a hiss as the heat singed her skin. The egg hit the forest floor, rolled slightly—and then, right before her eyes, it hatched.
The shell broke open, revealing a wriggling mass of green scales and soft wings. The creature inside squealed, tiny and frail, its claws barely formed, its wings damp. A soft glimmer coated its body, green scales like forest glass, sharp little horns curling from its skull, smoke rising from its snout.
A dragon.
Small. Beautiful. Alive.
Blue's breath caught in her throat. It struggled to stand, legs wobbling, so she scooped it gently back into her arms. The creature blinked up at her, its obsidian eyes locking onto hers like it already knew her.
"Hey… little one," she whispered, brushing a thumb over its delicate head.
The dragon nudged into her chest, breathing shallowly, as if imprinting on her. Its body trembled, but in her arms, it calmed.
Blue's heart tugged unexpectedly. She didn't understand it, but she felt it. A connection. It was like love… only deeper. Older.
"You're mine now," she whispered, smiling for the first time in days. "You'll be my new family."
The dragon let out a sound, almost like agreement. A soft chirp.
And for a second, Blue thought everything might turn out okay.
Until the horse screamed.
She turned sharply, the dragon hidden against her chest, tucked beneath her torn cloak. When she ran back to the clearing—
She stopped cold.
Five men stood there, naked except for filthy cloths around their waists. Their bodies were coated in black ink—symbols she didn't understand, jagged lines and strange runes. One held her horse like it was his.
Her breath caught.
"I—I don't want any trouble," she said shakily, tucking the dragon deeper under her garment. "Give me back my horse, and I'll go."
They didn't speak instead they laughed.
A cruel, guttural sound that made her blood turn to ice. Then one of them pointed at her, said something in a language she didn't recognize. The others chuckled again, low and perverse.
She turned to run.
Too late.
One grabbed her from behind like she weighed nothing and slammed her face-down into the dirt. The leader stepped forward, his legs by her face. She could smell the sweat, the rot.
Rough hands yanked her up. Fingers groped her breast through her gown, testing, squeezing.
She spat in his face.
That earned her a hard backhand. Her nose split. Blood ran down her lips. They growled something in that same language, now angry.
Then—rip.
Her gown tore open from the chest.
"No—NO!" she screamed, kicking wildly, but two of them pinned her down. Her strength was nothing. The leader dropped his cloth. He cock was fully erect now, grinning.
Her body froze. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the horror.
It never came.
Instead, a scream. Not hers. A guttural cry of agony.
Then the sound of ripping flesh.
Then chaos.
It happened so fast, like a violent blur. Growls. Bones crunching and blood splashing. The scent of musk and frost filled the air. She didn't even need to open her eyes.
They were here.
The triplets. In their beast forms.
They tore through the men, claws ripping, jaws snapping. No one was spared. The trees ran red with blood. The forest fell silent when it was done.
Blue huddled under the remains of her shredded gown, clutching the baby dragon under her arms. Her body shook uncontrollably. When they finally shifted back, the air grew colder.
And then came the rage. The raw, blinding rage.
Their power burned through the clearing like a storm. Frostbite crept across the grass. Blue's skin stung.
When she dared to look at their faces, her heart twisted. Not relief. Not concern.
Disgust and hatred.
Draven's eyes burned like wildfire. "How dare you?!"
His palm cracked against her face before she could speak.
The slap sent her reeling. Her already broken nose bled more, and she collapsed onto the dirt. His snarl was pure beast.
"If we were a second late…" he spat, his voice shaking, "you'd be laying here defiled by animals."
Who do you care? She almost spat but held back so another slap doesn't land or worse.
They didn't move closer. Just glared. Rage radiated off their bare chests like heat from a furnace. Frostheart pulsed behind their eyes.
When they realized she was gone, fear gripped them. A feeling they haven't known in five years.
Draven stepped forward, voice like thunder. "Tie her up."
"What—no! Please, no! Don't—stop!" she screamed, trying to back away, but Laziel grabbed her wrists, Kael her ankles. They moved fast and merciless.
"You want to be treated like an animal?" Draven growled. "Then I'll show you how it's done."
They tied her hands and feet, ignoring her sobs. Then Kael hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
"Let me go!" she cried, struggling.
Smack.
A hard slap landed on her bare backside. "Shut it," Kael growled.
And just like that, the princess of Albenia had been caught.
There was no escaping from her lycans. Not now. Not ever.