The Cursed Lycan's Defiant Hidden Mate

Chynna POV:

"Hurry up and get into that damn carriage!" Jedediah Barlow barked, his heavy boot splintering the wooden lock off my door.

The suffocating weight of his Alpha Command flooded the room, rattling the iron panes in the window.

"The crippled Seventh Prince will tear you to pieces by nightfall, but your death will secure our pack's royal alliance."

I met my biological father's cold gray eyes without flinching, smearing the dark herbal paste over my neck to lock down my awakened power.

Jedediah Barlow was a ruthless Pack Alpha who kept my mother locked in a subterranean cavern to harvest her sacred blood, treating me as a wolfless disgrace.

For eighteen years, the entire noble court mocked me as a powerless stray without an inner wolf.

Three nights ago beneath the blood moon, my mother's ancient lineage erupted in my veins, awakening the supreme power of the Ancient White Wolf.

To hide my strength until I freed my mother, I crushed wolfsbane and moonlight herbs together, freezing my lethal Alpha scent deep beneath my skin.

Now, Jedediah was trading me away to spare his precious trueborn daughters from Prince Kellen Mcfadden-the feared Lycan war god whose legs were crippled by silver poison and who had already slaughtered two royal brides.

Jedediah filled the entrance, his cold, hawk-like gray eyes scanning me from head to toe as if appraising damaged livestock.

"Hurry up," Jedediah barked, his voice laced with the harsh command of a Pack Alpha. "The carriage is here. Do not make me drag you down the stairs."

I set the wooden comb onto the table with slow, deliberate precision, turning to meet his predatory gaze with a thin, mocking smile. "Are you afraid I will run, my Lord?"

Jedediah let out a low snort, clasping his calloused hands behind his back, the warning in his eyes naked and sharp.

"Remember your place. Sacrificing yourself to marry the Seventh Prince in your sister's stead is the only useful thing your worthless blood will ever provide for this family."

I brushed a speck of dust from the cuff of my faded sleeve, my voice entirely flat. "Keep your word and leave my people alone, and I will play the part of your sacrificial lamb."

He stared at me for three long seconds, his jaw tightening as if searching for a tremor of fear across my face.

Finding none, he spat on the threshold, turned on his heel, and stalked away down the stone corridor.

His heavy footsteps had barely faded when a pair of sharp, mocking laughs cut through the cold morning air.

Alverta Barlow glided into the room, her long gown of deep crimson velvet rustling over the wooden floorboards, her narrow hazel eyes gleaming with undisguised malice.

Behind her came Aleida, the younger legitimate daughter, casually twirling a riding crop tipped with cruel, silver-barbed wire.

Alverta stopped right in front of me, her long, manicured nails dragging across the coarse, unadorned fabric of my bridal gown with sheer disgust.

"How pathetic. Look at you, getting ready to be torn to shreds by that crippled monster of a Prince."

I stared straight into her face without yielding an inch, my voice dropping to a dead, icy whisper.

"You pushed a death sentence of a marriage onto a bastard sister. You should be thanking me on your knees."

The words struck Alverta like an open palm, twisting the sneer on her face instantly into pure rage. "You wolfless trash! How dare you speak to me like that!"

She whipped her head toward Aleida, her voice turning shrill. "Teach her a lesson before she leaves! Remind this stray of her place!"

Aleida grinned with savage delight, snapping her arm back to whip the silver-barbed leather whistling through the air straight for my face.

I stood unyielding, my eyes locked on the strike.

A deadly spark ignited in the depths of my amber eyes as my right hand shot forward like striking iron.

Before the silver barbs could slice across my cheek, my fingers clamped down around the thick leather with crushing force.

Aleida's eyes widened in utter shock as she yanked back with both hands, using all her werewolf strength, but the whip remained completely motionless in my grip, anchored into solid rock.

"My turn," I whispered.

I twisted my wrist and pulled hard, weaponizing her own momentum against her.

Aleida lost her footing completely and flew forward, crashing violently onto the hardwood floor with a sharp crack as her kneecap struck the timber.

She let out a piercing scream of agony, clutching her broken leg in the pooling blood.

Alverta gasped in horror, stumbling backward until her spine hit the stone wall, pointing a trembling finger at me. "You... you dared to strike back?"

I stepped over Aleida's thrashing body, closing the distance between us as the silver-tipped bone needle hidden beneath my right sleeve caught the dim morning light.

I reached out and locked my fingers around Alverta's slender throat, slamming her hard against the cold stone.

"Speak one more word," I said, leaning in until she could feel the ice in my breath, "and I will tear your tongue out through your neck."

Alverta's face turned mottled red, her hands clawing uselessly at my forearm, her boots kicking the air as terror completely erased her noble arrogance.

I dropped my grip in pure disgust.

She collapsed to the floor like a sack of wet flour, clutching her bruised neck and gasping for air between ragged sobs.

I stepped past them without another glance, walked over to the wardrobe, and pulled out the heavy black woolen cloak.

Swinging the dark fabric over my shoulders, I fastened the clasp at my throat.

Leaving the two shivering sisters bleeding on the bedroom floor, I pushed open the door and walked out into the freezing morning mist.

In the center of the muddy courtyard sat a battered black carriage, entirely stripped of any royal crest, waiting like an open wooden coffin.