Chapter 3
Elsa
The hood ripped from Elsa’s head.
Light stabbed through her eyelids—not the sterile blue of the medical bay but something harsher, colder.
She flinched, blinking hard against the sudden exposure.
The air tasted different here. Stone and metal and something ancient underneath, like the smell of a cave that had been sealed for centuries.
Her wrists ached where metal bit into skin.
Chains. Heavy ones, linking her to—
Movement to her left. Someone breathing hard, their panic a living thing that filled the space between heartbeats. To her right, another presence, stockier, tense as a coiled spring.
Elsa’s vision cleared slowly, the room swimming into focus through the afterimages of darkness.
Four of them. Chained together at the wrists and ankles, the bindings connecting them in a line that rattled with every shift of weight. The sound echoed off stone walls that rose higher than any human structure had a right to, carved with patterns that might have been writing or warnings.
She took stock.
To her left stood a woman in a ruby-red dress, the fabric expensive and formal and completely out of place in this nightmare.
Raven-black hair fell past her shoulders in tangled waves.
Her face was pale, tear-streaked, eyes wide with the kind of terror that came from being broken before the fight even started.
Mia. The name surfaced from somewhere—wedding guest, probably. One of the civilians who’d been on the Stardancer for the maiden voyage celebration.
To Elsa’s right, two men. The first she recognized—Rowan, security detail, broad-shouldered and stoic despite wearing nothing but his boxers. His jaw was set, muscles twitching like he was calculating angles and distances and odds that didn’t exist.
The other man was Milo, one of the ship’s chefs. Wiry frame wound tight, dressed in the remnants of his kitchen whites. His gaze darted around the room, cataloguing exits that weren’t there, weapons that didn’t exist.
Elsa’s white gown clung to her body, torn at the hem and smudged with ash that wouldn’t quite wash out. The fabric felt like an accusation—this elegant thing she’d been forced to wear while her captain destroyed everything she’d charted.
The chains connected them all. One continuous line of metal and captivity.
Her legs worked now. The pins-and-needles sensation had faded sometime between the medical bay and wherever they’d been dragged. She could stand. Could walk, if the ankle shackles allowed it.
Not that it mattered.
Two guards flanked the arched doorway—wolfmen, upright on their hind legs, sleek and well-groomed in a way that suggested discipline.
Military precision. They wore nothing but dark wristbands with glowing blue gems embedded in the center, the same tear-shaped stones that had flashed through the forest before everything went dark.
Their ears tracked every sound. Their eyes—one pair amber, one pair a pale silver—remained fixed on the prisoners with predatory stillness.
Elsa forced herself to breathe. To think past the fear that wanted to swallow her whole.
Four prisoners. Two guards. One door.
The odds were laughable.
Heavy footsteps echoed from somewhere beyond the archway. The guards straightened, ears pinning back in a gesture that looked like respect. Or fear.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Nearly black fur caught what little light filtered through the high windows.
Streaks of deep gray rippled across broad shoulders and a chest built for violence.
Green eyes swept over them—the same cold gaze from earlier.
These were cutting. Assessing. The sort of gaze that judged and discarded without hesitation.
He stopped in front of them, massive frame towering even over Rowan’s considerable height. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of absolute authority.
“I am Xar.” The words rumbled through the chamber like distant thunder. “One of the Lux Knight Captains under Prince Ryxin. I’m tasked with keeping you in line until you are presented to the Alpha King.”
A pause. His green eyes lingered on Mia, who shook like a leaf in a storm, then moved to Elsa with something that might have been curiosity.
“Stay here,” Xar commanded. “Do not test my patience. I will see if the Prince is ready to present you to the Alpha King.”
He turned on his heel, movements precise despite his bulk. The guards remained at their posts, sentinel-still, as Xar disappeared through the archway.
The moment his footsteps faded, Rowan shifted beside her. The chains clinked softly. His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “Four of us. Two guards.”
Milo leaned forward slightly, the chain between his wrists pulling taut. “We could take them. Rush them when they’re not paying attention. Use the chains—choke them, bring them down with our weight.”
Elsa’s jaw tightened. She turned her head just enough to catch Rowan’s profile. “That’s a terrible idea.”
“It’s our only chance,” Rowan hissed back.
“Our ankles are bound.” Elsa kept her voice low, controlled, even as frustration burned hot in her chest. “How are we supposed to rush them when we can barely shuffle?”
Rowan’s lips parted, but before he could respond, a sob choked out from Mia’s throat.
Her shoulders hunched, chains rattling as her whole body shook.
“We’re doomed.” The words came out broken, barely intelligible through her tears.
“We’re all going to die. Like the others.
This is it. These are our final moments. ”
Milo glanced away, his expression twisting. His hands clenched around the chain, knuckles going white, but he said nothing.
Rowan exhaled sharply. He leaned toward Mia, voice dropping to something almost gentle. “Stop it. We don’t have to die here. Not if we fight back.”
“Be serious.” Elsa’s words came out sharper than she’d intended.
The chain pulled taut as she turned toward Rowan, forcing eye contact.
“Even if we could take them—and that’s a massive if—what’s your plan after that?
You’re basically naked on a winter planet.
You think you’ll just waltz out into the snow and make it back to the crash site? ”
Rowan’s mouth opened.
“You’d freeze to death before you got close.” Elsa didn’t let him interrupt. “And that’s assuming they don’t hear you coming. Or smell you. Their senses are probably sharper than any Earth canine.” She paused. “Do you want to fight off a whole pack of them next?”
The room fell silent except for the faint hum of energy—some kind of power source running through the walls—and Mia’s quiet, hiccupping sobs.
Milo rubbed his shackled hands against his face, sighing deeply. The sound carried the weight of acceptance. Defeat.
Rowan clenched his jaw, his defiance dimming but not quite extinguished. His gaze shifted to the high window set in the far wall—small, frosted, barely large enough to crawl through even if they could reach it.
Elsa followed his line of sight.
Beyond the window, the sky stretched endlessly. Stars glimmered in constellations she didn’t recognize, patterns that would never match any chart she’d memorized during her years as navigator. Beautiful. Alien. A stark reminder of just how far from home she really was.
She strained to commit the visible stars to memory anyway. Couldn’t help herself. The cartographer’s brain that had gotten her into this mess refused to stop working, cataloguing positions and angles and relative brightness.
If there’s a way out—when there’s a way out—knowing the terrain could mean the difference between survival and death.
The thought felt hollow.
They were prisoners. Captives of creatures who’d shot down their vessel, dragged them from a crash site, implanted devices in their heads while they were unconscious.
These wolfmen were responsible for everything.
And yet.
Elsa’s fingers found the implant behind her ear, tracing its smooth edges. The universal communicator that let her understand their language, let them issue orders she couldn’t pretend to misunderstand.
Perhaps, she thought, someone as compassionate as Healer Yarx might help.
The idea was desperate. Pathetic, even. But it was something to hold onto in the crushing weight of helplessness.
Or maybe the Alpha King would show mercy.
The thought died as quickly as it formed.
Sharp claws scraped against stone.
Elsa’s head snapped toward the archway. Her pulse kicked up, hammering against her ribs hard enough that she could feel it in her throat.
Xar entered first, his green eyes sweeping over them with clinical assessment. He nodded to the guards, who straightened further—if that was even possible.
Then another figure stepped through.
Larger. More commanding. His presence filled the chamber in a way that made the space feel smaller, the air thicker.
Black fur, dark as the void between stars. Cyan blue eyes that seemed to glow with unnatural light, predatory and piercing. He moved with deliberate precision, each step measured, controlled, radiating an authority that didn’t need to be announced.
The guards stiffened. Their ears flattened against their skulls. They tilted their heads, exposing their throats in a gesture of submission so complete it made Elsa’s stomach twist.
This wolfman didn’t just command respect.
He demanded it.
He stopped in front of the chained humans, and everyone—even Rowan—went utterly still.
“I am Prince Ryxin.” His voice was a smooth growl, resonant enough to vibrate through Elsa’s chest. “Yzefrxyl Commander and brother to the Alpha King. I am the one who shot down your vessel for trespassing into our territory.”
His lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. Mocking. Daring them to react.
“And now I am burdened with your emergency vessel crashing into our Holy Land. For that, you will face the Alpha King, who will determine your fate.”
Rowan surged forward.