It started with a letter.
Sealed in thick, black wax bearing a sigil I didn't recognize.
It arrived two days after the battle—hand-delivered by a courier who refused to speak, only bowing low before pressing the heavy parchment into my hand.
I didn't open it immediately.
I stood on the steps of the Silvermoon hall, turning the letter over between my fingers, feeling the strange pull of destiny humming beneath the surface.
When I finally broke the seal, the handwriting was sharp, slanted, and cold.
"Beta Athena,
News of your strength has traveled beyond your borders.
The King of the Obsidian Throne invites you to his court.
You are summoned to serve as the King's Personal Fighter—protector of the crown.
Few are ever chosen. Even fewer survive the honor.
A carriage will await your answer by nightfall.
– Alpha Cassius of the Blackstone Pack."
I stared at the letter for a long moment, my heart beating slow and heavy in my chest.
The Obsidian Throne.
A kingdom built not on diplomacy, but on power, fear, and ruthless strength.
And Cassius—the King's enforcer, his executioner, and rumored heir to the throne—was its sharpest blade.
I had heard of him, of course.
Everyone had.
Alpha Cassius wasn't just feared—he was respected. His name carried the weight of blood and victory.
And now...he wanted me.
To become a personal fighter of the king.
I wasn't going to accept. I was perfectly fine with staying in Silvermoon. I would just wait at the border for the carriage and make my rejection known.
Night fell quickly, swallowing the sky in deep black shadows.
I stood at the border of Silvermoon territory, my arms crossed, as a sleek black carriage drawn by two massive midnight horses waited before me.
Cassius himself stood beside it.
He was taller than I expected. Broad-shouldered, dark hair cropped short, a scar cutting across his chin. His eyes—so dark they were almost black—watched me with the quiet, coiled patience of a predator.
He was dressed simply: black armor that gleamed faintly under the moonlight, a sword strapped across his back.
Power radiated from him.
My wolf screamed pleasantly. But I told her to calm down. He didn't look like someone that would handle rejection easily.
He inclined his head slightly in greeting, his gaze never leaving mine.
"Beta Athena," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "You look more impressive in person."
I didn't respond.
Let him talk.
Let him make the first move.
Cassius studied me for a moment longer, then gestured toward the carriage.
"The King offers you a place at his side. As his shield. His sword. His personal fighter."
A faint, dangerous smile touched his lips.
"You would answer to no one but him. It would be a great honor of yours."
I shook my head slightly. "And if I refuse?"
His smile deepened, slow and unbothered. "Then you remain here. Wasted. Forgotten. While the world moves on without you. Your talents would be a waste here. Don't let emotions cloud your judgment."
I let the silence stretch between us.
Cassius didn't press.
He was a man who knew the power of waiting.
Finally, I spoke.
"I'm not a weapon to be wielded by anyone," I said coldly. "Not even your King."
Cassius's dark eyes glinted with something that might have been amusement—or warning.
"You're right," he said. "You're not just a weapon."
He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until only a breath of air separated us.
"You're a storm." His voice was a rumble that seemed to sink into my bones.
"And storms don't belong in cages. They belong on thrones."
My heart started beating very quickly.
But I kept my face impassive.
If he thought flattery would sway me.
Then he didn't know me at all.
I took a step back, lifting my chin. "Tell your King I appreciate the offer. But I don't need anyone's throne to validate my worth."
Cassius's smile didn't falter.
If anything, it deepened.
"Good," he said simply. "I would've been disappointed if you accepted so easily."
I blinked, caught off guard.
He wasn't angry.
He was...intrigued.
Cassius turned smoothly, his long coat swirling around his boots, and climbed into the carriage without another word.
But just before the door closed, he said, almost lazily:
"The offer stands. For now.
But beware, Beta Athena—
Fate rarely offers the same chance twice."
The door shut with a soft thud.
And the black carriage rolled away into the night, leaving me standing alone beneath the cold, watching stars.
My hands tightened at my sides.
I had refused him.
But deep down, something told me this wasn't the last I would see of Cassius.
And I was damn right.
Two nights later, as I walked the Silvermoon perimeter under a sky bruised with the threat of rain, I found another letter waiting for me.
No courier this time.
No black wax seal.
Just a scrap of thick parchment pinned to the barracks door with a dagger driven deep into the wood.
The handwriting was the same—sharp, slanted, unapologetic.
"Let's fight."
I tore the paper down, my heart thudding, my mind already racing.
He was challenging.
A language I understood better than any.