Chapter 6
Elsa
Footsteps approached from the far end of the corridor—heavy, synchronized. Elsa lifted her head just as four figures emerged from a side passage.
Lux Sabers.
They were shorter and sleeker than the Alpha King leading her, each built like living weapons.
Their armor was dark and fitted close to their bodies, etched with faint silver markings that caught the blue glow of the wall gems. Steel-gray, charcoal, and deep russet fur marked them as different clans, but the way they moved—silent, disciplined—told Elsa they belonged to the same order.
They stopped the instant they saw Sylas.
All four dropped to one knee, bowing their heads, tilting them to expose their necks.
“My King.”
Sylas rested his hand briefly against the back of Elsa’s neck—not rough, but unmistakably possessive.
“Care for her.”
The words were calm, but the command behind them carried absolute weight.
“She is my royal pet.”
Elsa felt the title like a brand.
The Sabers didn’t react—no surprise, no amusement. Just obedience.
“The Luna Chambers,” Sylas continued. “She stays there.”
One of the Sabers—taller than the rest, her pale silver fur braided along her temple—nodded.
“Yes, my King.”
Sylas’s fingers slid away from Elsa’s neck, but the warmth of his touch lingered.
“I will summon her tomorrow.”
Only then did he turn away.
He left without another glance, boots echoing once against the stone before the sound faded into the depths of the fortress.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then the silver-furred Saber rose and stepped forward, studying Elsa with sharp, assessing eyes.
“Come.”
Elsa swallowed and nodded as they led her deeper into the mountain, the corridor swallowing her whole.
She followed the Lux Saber through passages carved from ancient volcanic rock, the stone still holding a lingering heat from whatever furnace had shaped this fortress millennia ago. Blue light pulsed from embedded gems at regular intervals, casting everything in shifting shades of twilight and ice.
Her wrists ached where the cuffs bit into skin. Behind her, footsteps echoed—guards, probably, though she didn’t dare look back to count them. Ahead, the female wolfman moved with fluid grace, her rust-colored fur catching the dim light as she led Elsa deeper into the mountain’s belly.
A Lux Saber. That’s what Ryxin had called the female guards. Elite protectors of the Luna—the Alpha King’s mate.
Except Sylas didn’t have a mate.
Which meant these warriors served…what? The throne itself? The idea of a mate? Or were they simply weapons waiting to be aimed?
The Saber glanced back once, amber eyes assessing. “Keep up.”
Elsa’s legs obeyed before her brain caught up. The chains connecting her ankles had been removed after Sylas had dismissed them from the throne room, leaving only the cuffs. Small mercy. She could walk normally now, even if her destination remained a mystery.
They climbed stairs carved directly into the mountainside, each step worn smooth by centuries of clawed feet. The air grew warmer as they ascended, thick with mineral scent and something else—sulfur, maybe, from volcanic vents buried deep below.
The fortress wasn’t just built into the mountain. It was built from it, shaped by heat and pressure and deliberate design into something that felt alive.
Elsa’s cartographer brain catalogued turns and distances automatically. Thirty-seven steps up. Left corridor. Forty-two paces. Right turn. Another staircase, this one spiraling. The information settled into mental maps she couldn’t help but construct, even knowing escape was impossible.
Old habits. They’d kept her sane on the Stardancer when her captain had stripped her position and locked her from the bridge. They’d keep her sane now.
The Lux Saber stopped before a door—actual wood, dark and heavy, bound with iron that gleamed dull in the blue light. She pressed one clawed hand against the surface. Something clicked. Ancient mechanisms responding to her touch, or maybe her scent. The door swung inward on silent hinges.
“Inside.”
Not a request.
Elsa stepped through, and warmth hit her like a physical force.
The chamber was smaller than she’d expected.
Carved from the same volcanic rock but smoothed, almost polished, the walls radiating heat that seeped into her frozen bones.
A low bed dominated one corner, piled with furs that looked thick and soft and utterly foreign.
Not synthetic. Not manufactured. Actual pelts from creatures she’d never seen.
A basin sat near the far wall, steam rising from water that shouldn’t be hot but was. How? Geothermal vents? Technology she didn’t recognize?
The Lux Saber gestured toward the basin. “Wash.”
Elsa’s jaw tightened. “I can manage on my own.”
“Not with those.” The guard nodded at the cuffs still binding Elsa’s wrists. She stepped closer, claws working the mechanism with practiced efficiency. The metal fell away, clattering against stone.
Blood rushed back into Elsa’s hands, bringing pins and needles with it. She rubbed her wrists, feeling the indentations the cuffs had left, the raw skin beneath.
Free. Sort of.
“Wash,” the Lux Saber repeated, settling onto a low stool near the door. “I’ll wait.”
Of course she would. Because this wasn’t freedom. This was supervised captivity dressed up as hospitality.
Elsa moved to the basin, her ruined gown dragging against stone. The water’s heat rose in waves, fogging the air between her and the surface. She dipped her fingers in. Scalding. But not unbearably so.
She glanced back at the guard, who watched with the patience of a predator who knew her prey had nowhere to run.
Fine.
Elsa stripped the gown off, letting the torn white fabric pool at her feet. Underneath, she wore the thin undergarments from the wedding—useless scraps of lace that hadn’t been designed for survival. She left them on. The guard could judge all she wanted.
The water burned when Elsa submerged her hands, then her arms, scrubbing away ash and blood and the lingering smell of smoke. It hurt. Good. Pain meant she was still alive, still feeling, still here instead of lost in whatever nightmare logic had brought her to this impossible place.
She washed quickly, efficiently, ignoring the way her skin prickled under the guard’s unblinking stare. Cleaned the worst of the grime from her face, her neck, her shoulders where bruises had darkened into ugly purple-black clouds.
When she finished, a bundle of fabric waited on the bed. The Lux Saber must have placed it there while Elsa wasn’t looking.
“Dress.”
The garment was simple—a shift made from material that felt like wool but softer, dyed a deep gray that reminded Elsa of storm clouds. It fell to mid-thigh when she pulled it on, the fabric loose enough to allow movement but fitted enough to stay in place.
No shoes. No stockings. Just bare feet against warm stone.
The Lux Saber stood. “Come.”
They left the basin, moved to a small table Elsa hadn’t noticed before. A tray sat there, laden with food that steamed in the cool air.
Meat. Bread. Something that might be fruit, though the colors were wrong—too vibrant, too alien. A cup of liquid that smelled sharp and herbal.
Elsa’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. Before the crash, probably. Before everything went to hell.
“Eat.”
She sat on the stool the guard indicated, eyeing the food with suspicion. “What is it?”
“Sustenance.” The Lux Saber’s tone suggested this should be obvious. “The Alpha King doesn’t starve his property.”
Property.
The word landed like a stone in icy water.
Elsa picked up the bread, tearing off a piece. It was warm, dense, grainy in a way that reminded her of the artisan loaves from Earth’s agricultural colonies. She bit down. The flavor exploded across her tongue—salt and something earthy, almost nutty.
Real food. Not synthesized rations or protein paste.
She ate methodically, forcing herself to chew slowly despite the hunger clawing at her gut. The meat was gamey, rich, probably from some local animal. The fruit tasted like citrus crossed with something floral. The liquid in the cup burned going down, warming her from the inside out.
All of it carefully prepared. Deliberately chosen.
Not kindness. Control.
They were showing her what life could be like if she cooperated. Fed. Warm. Clean. Comfortable.
All she had to do was accept her place.
The Lux Saber watched her eat in silence, amber eyes tracking every movement. When Elsa finished, the guard stood. “Hold out your arm.”
Elsa’s pulse kicked up. “Why?”
“The Alpha King has claimed you. You will wear his mark.”
Ice flooded Elsa’s veins. “No.”
The guard’s ears flicked. Not anger. Amusement. “It’s not a choice.”
“Everything is a choice.” Elsa stood, her bare feet finding purchase on warm stone. “I won’t—”
The door opened.
Sylas filled the doorway, his massive frame blotting out the corridor light. Cyan eyes locked onto her, sharp and assessing. He dismissed the Lux Saber with a flick of one clawed hand.
The guard bowed her head, touching her fist to her chest. “My king.” Then she was gone, door closing behind her with a soft click.
Leaving Elsa alone with the creature who’d decided she was his.
He moved into the chamber, each step deliberate. Not threatening. Not yet. Just…present. Taking up space in a way that made the room feel smaller, the air thicker.
“You’re resisting.” His voice was a low rumble, more observation than accusation.
Elsa lifted her chin. “I won’t wear a collar.”
“It’s a wristband. Not a collar.” Sylas stopped an arm’s length away, holding up the object in question.
It was sleek, dark metal that caught the light in subtle ways. Set into its center, a blue gem pulsed with the same rhythm as the lights in the walls. The same stones the wolfmen wore. The same technology that had made them vanish in the forest.
“Same principle,” Elsa said, her voice steadier than she felt. “A marker. A brand. Something that says I belong to you.”