Trapped with the Alpha King

"Lock her up!"

"No!" Althea's voice cracked. Her legs buckled as two bulky guards dragged her down the hallway. "Please... don't do this!"

Her hands scraped against the stone floor, nails breaking as she fought to hold on to anything. But she was too weak. Too small. They yanked her like she weighed nothing.

"Luna Meena! Please, I beg you!" Althea cried out toward the woman standing behind the guards. "Don't leave me down there! I'll do anything. I'll stay out of your way. Just don't lock me in that place!"

But Luna Meena didn't flinch. Her face was stone. She turned away. The heavy dungeon door slammed shut behind Althea. 

She collapsed to the floor, biting her lip hard as tears streamed down her face. She crawled into a corner, pulled her knees to her chest, and whispered to herself through trembling lips, "Everything will be alright, Althea."

But even she didn't believe it.

It wasn't the first time she had been locked in the dungeon. But this time... it felt different.

This time, her father had committed treason against the crown. While the rest of her family fled for their lives, she had been left behind.

Locked away. Alone. As if she weren't one of them. As if they had already decided she was as good as dead.

She didn't know how long she'd been in that cell. Minutes? Hours? Days?

The cold seeped into her bones. Her stomach twisted, empty and cramping. The floor was damp. Rats scurried nearby.. Somewhere, a man coughed... long, wet, and dying. Her thin dress offered no warmth at all.

The silence that followed was worse.

"I don't want to die..." she whispered.

Her breath came in short, panicked gasps. She tried to stay calm, but her body shook, and the tears wouldn't stop.

Then...

A loud creak echoed through the dungeon as the door opened.

Althea flinched. She didn't look up at first. But when she did, two royal guards towered over her, faces blank, eyes cold.

One grabbed her by the arm.

"W-Where are you taking me?!" she cried.

They didn't answer. But the golden werewolf crest on their chests said enough.

The South had fallen. Her father's pack was gone. Her home... taken. Her father... a traitor. And now... She was being taken to die.

But when they dragged her into the grand hall, what she saw made her blood run cold.

Everyone was there. Her family. Her father's mistresses. Her siblings. Even the servants.

All on their knees. Heads bowed.

Waiting.

Then... a scream. THUD.

Her half-brother's body crashed beside her, a pool of blood spreading like ink across the marble floor. Althea choked back a scream.

A familiar man stepped forward, face blank, blade dripping. He wiped the sword on her brother's sleeve without a second glance.

"Anyone else care to beg for mercy?" he asked, calm as if talking about the weather.

No one moved. No one breathed. Then his gaze landed on her. He wasn't just a guard. His silver-trimmed armor and the force of his presence made that clear. He was, in no doubt, one of the Alpha King's most trusted warriors. Gamma Simon.