"Such beauty!" I gasped, marvelling at the sparkle of the diamond ring nestled in my hands. My gaze lifted to meet that of my boyfriend, his eyes brimming with a warmth that spoke volumes. Though the laws of our age had yet to confirm our destinies, a deep, unshakeable feeling whispered that we were meant to be. His smile, tender and reassuring, seemed to echo my thoughts.

"This will remain our sweet, secret prelude," he declared with a spark of joy in his eyes. "Upon your 18th birthday, I'll make our bond official," he promised, his voice tinged with excitement.

"But... what if I'm not your fated one?" My voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding my heart, but he swiftly silenced my fears with a gentle touch to my lips.

"That matters not to me. Whether fated or not, it is you and only you, that I desire in my life," he affirmed, his voice heavy with sincerity, his loving gaze piercing through the veil of my doubts.

--

CRACK!

A chill ran through me as a cold, indifferent stare bore into my soul.

--

The fragrance of honey and the fresh, dew-kissed morning air assaulted my senses, nearly knocking me off my feet. I hastily shut my eyes, my heart pounding with fear yet silently pleading for this scent to enfold my beloved.

"Nem, open your eyes... please, my love," entreated a voice so sweet, that I found myself compelled to comply. My eyelids fluttered open, revealing the mesmerizing depth of his hazel eyes, filled with adoration and longing. Around us, the sound of applause barely registered; I was consumed by the moment, indifferent to how his parents or anyone else might perceive us. To them, I was merely a Lycan warrior, an orphan without name or title. Yet, in his gaze, I was elevated to something far greater. My prince... my destined mate. Gratitude filled my heart as I silently thanked the Goddess for answering my deepest prayers.

--

CRACK!

The warmth of his hazel gaze shifted, straying to linger on the blonde hair of a woman standing by his side.

--

"I, Marco Dorian Arlano, take you, Nemesia Fairsky, to be my mate and future Luna. With the Goddess's blessing, I will make you my queen and remain faithfully at your side till the end of our days," he vowed, his voice imbuing the traditional words with his own heartfelt twist. At that moment, I was engulfed in sheer bliss.

Whether or not he ascended to the throne mattered little to me. If it was his wish, I would support him every step of the way. The most precious truth to me was our unbreakable bond, promising we would always be together.

--

CRACK!

I bit down on my teeth, suppressing a cry of agony.

"Your Highness, shall I proceed?" The guard paused, uncertainty flickering in his eyes before administering another punishment.

"No, that will suffice. She's surely learned her lesson by now," came the cold, detached response from lips that once spoke of love, that had caressed my skin with tenderness and smiled at me with affection...

I could no longer contain my emotions. Tears welled in my eyes, not merely from physical pain but from a profound sense of betrayal and loss. I had to speak up!

*Third person's POV*

"Are you serious?!" Nemesia exclaimed, spitting blood. 

The silver in her system wreaked havoc, turning her healing wounds into bleeding sores. She lifted her eyes to the man who had promised to stand by her side and love her. The man she believed was sent by the goddess herself. They were meant to be together forever. She had done everything for him throughout their reign, dirtying her hands to ensure he remained an unblemished king in the eyes of their subjects. She endured the disdain of his parents, and the current rulers, and maneuvered him into the position of heir apparent over his siblings. She suffered and toiled for him because they were destined wolves. So why... WHY was he now before her, holding some scrawny blonde waif he had found battered in the woods? What did it matter that she was poor and had suffered? What did it matter how she was treated? Why was she crying at his side while Nemesia, his future queen and partner, was drenched in her own blood from the silver whip's lashings?

"Melody is such a delicate creature, how could you treat her so harshly? I don't need a queen who's a monster!" Marco, the future king, her mate, hissed in anger.

Shocked, Nemesia burst into laughter. "You don't need me? You made me a monster! You wanted power, you got it... and now you want to discard me? You'll regret this!" She bared her fangs.

Melody cowered in Marco's embrace as he shouted for the guards to load Nemesia onto a wagon and take her to the Tower. The Tower! That's where she had banished many of his enemies... and now he wanted to send her there? Not over her dead body! Goddess, do you see how your faithful child suffers? I will have my revenge... I promise you!

*Nemesia's POV*

I clenched my teeth harder as the guards, lacking any semblance of gentleness, hoisted me up and forcefully thrust me onto the wagon. My once exquisite gown now bore the semblance of a mere rag, its elegance lost to the harsh treatment and turmoil of the day. As pain and rage seethed within me, an unsettling silence enveloped my mind, stirring a deep concern for my absent companion.

"Athena, are you there? My dear sister?" I tentatively reached into the depths of my consciousness, my voice echoing in the vast silence, fearing the worst for my lycan sister.

Initially, only the hollow echo of my own thoughts greeted me, but then, a faint, fragile presence responded. Athena's silence had been a heavy burden, her strength sapped not just by the physical torment we endured but by the emotional devastation of betrayal. Argo, Marco's lycan, had turned a deaf ear to her despair. Athena, ever the indomitable spirit, a lycan of unwavering resolve and ferocity, now reduced to a whisper of her former self, filled me with an even greater sorrow.

"Athena?" I whispered again, this time infusing my mental call with warmth and love, hoping to coax her back from the brink.

"Nem... Oh, Nem... the pain is unbearable... We've faced many challenges and endured countless wounds, but this betrayal cuts deeper than any before. Why... how did it come to this?" Her voice, laden with confusion and heartache, mirrored my own turmoil.

Indeed, how did we arrive at this dire juncture? Once celebrated as a formidable Lycan princess, my engagement to Marco had been a tale of love and promise since I turned 18 and he 20. Over 11 years of unwavering dedication and toil had finally borne fruit, positioning Marco on the cusp of kingship, with me by his side as his destined queen. Titles held little allure for me, despite the expectations of many who believed I was born for the crown. Even Marco's mother had come to accept me as her own. My joy was derived solely from his happiness, from seeing him achieve the recognition and status he so rightfully deserved. I dreamt of a future filled with love, support, and shared triumphs. Yet, the absence of pups, a silent shadow over our happiness, never dampened my hope.

A sharp jolt of pain brought me back to the grim present as the wagon lurched over an unseen obstacle. Glancing around, I found myself amidst a convoy of guards, all escorting me towards the infamous Tower. Escape was a fleeting thought; exhaustion had claimed both Athena and me. Gathering strength was all I could manage, but to what end? For Marco to awaken from his folly and realize the gravity of condemning his beloved to the darkest depths of the castle's dungeon?

I closed my eyes, seeking solace in the darkness.

"Nem... why is he doing this?" Athena's voice, now a soft whimper, pierced the silence, nearly shattering my resolve.

How could Marco inflict such profound anguish upon Athena, upon us? Our bond, once unbreakable, seemed to have dissipated into thin air, leaving only questions and a deep sense of betrayal.

"I don't know, my dear. When did it all begin...?" I paused, my mind racing back in time.

The first time he saw that wretch? In the forest, attacked by outcasts or who knows whom. A simple wolf, likely an Omega judging by the stench of weakness. And repeatedly abused, judging by how she reeked. She was somewhat battered and cried terribly. I even felt sorry for her for a moment... after all, so young, barely 18, maybe less. I agreed we should help her... There was so much happening at the Court... How had I missed the signs? Their covert glances, their secret meetings, the intimacy that had blossomed in the shadows. It was only when he took her to his bed that I felt the sting of betrayal through our sacred bond, though he tried to conceal it.

Who could blame me when, in a rage, Athena and I dragged that little vermin from his bed to give her a proper thrashing? How dare she encroach upon the sanctity of our bond, to lie with the future King, my husband, and the mate chosen for me by the Goddess herself? She. A mere stinking wolf! Lycans are not mere wolves... we are something more! And we are not docile dogs... we defend what is ours, and my behaviour was perfectly within our rights!

Yet, here I was, bound and beaten, my fate sealed not by justice but by Marco's decree. As if our years of love and loyalty meant nothing. As if only she mattered now. I was left to weep alone, my tears a testament to a love betrayed and a future torn asunder.

Fresh tears blurred my vision as I grappled with the reality of my situation. Perhaps my resolve had been too rigid, my actions too severe, but at my core, I was a woman who had loved Marco unyieldly, dedicating my life to our shared path. How could he discard our love so callously? Let the world see... surely, the Council, the King, and the Queen would stand by me.

The wagon halted abruptly, and I glared defiantly at the guards who dragged me from its confines and into the bowels of the Tower. The floor on which they abandoned me was cold, the air reeking of death and despair. The laughter and threats from other cells did little to quell the storm within me. Yet, in the face of overwhelming odds, I clung to a sliver of hope...

Two excruciating weeks passed, each day a testament to my will to survive amid the relentless torment. The Tower guards wielded their power mercilessly, their only restraint being their refusal to defile me. My hope, however, was shattered the day a Council member delivered the devastating news: stripped of all titles and severed from Marco, I was left to reckon with the stark reality of my abandonment. No one, it seemed, would champion my cause. My pleas, my references to our sacred codes, fell on deaf ears as the Councilor departed with haste.

Hope, once my steadfast companion, had forsaken me. As I gazed upon the other prisoners and the icy confines of my own cell, a chilling realization settled in... death was imminent unless I took action. And I knew that I'd die here if I didn't do something. We both will...