After trudging along on her own for a bit, Emory entered a huge hall that looked like an ancient war chamber. There was a U-shaped stone table surrounded by matching stone chairs all pointing to an elevated stone throne. Astonishingly, windows surrounded the room, allowing the fading evening light to pour in.

Lord Wulric sat at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the stone throne, waiting for her.

“It means that our union could be a catalyst for change,” Wulric said. “This is a real power shift. I wouldn’t be the figurehead king you think I am, and we could make Morrian a utopia for everyone.”

“And if I refuse? What then? Your grand spectacle crumbles?”

Wulric’s pause was telling. As he rose from the stairs, he slowly walked back toward her. “Then we’re at an impasse,” he said, stopping just short of her. “One where no one benefits, and our people suffer. Is that what you want?”

“I want what’s best for the wolves, not a forced marriage billed as a political win for you.” She shot him a glare.

“I understand,” he said, nodding slightly. “But consider this: the best way to protect your people is from the inside. As my queen, you’d be able to influence not just the fate of the wolves, but the entire empire. Without this union, wolves will become extinct. Something has awakened the dragons, and they are now circling the Empire seeking their king. Once that ancient war returns, consider the consequences for the wolves without the Lycans to band together with.”

She scoffed and brushed her hair from her face. “There you go, always thinking you’re better than us. Maybe the wolves know a way to ally with the dragons against the Lycans. Can you fathom how easily they would destroy you then?” Her eyes flashed with warning. “You think you’re almighty, don’t you?” she challenged. “Trying to intimidate and frighten me into making a choice on your terms. You need to understand that it won’t work. The only way I agree to be your mate is when you answer my questions without trying to manage me. I am not some witless, nameless wolf. I am a Chav’re. You insult me with these games!”

He chuckled a little, and when he stepped closer Emory gritted in rage, especially at the amusement in his eyes.

“The dragons would rather die, fall on their swords than ally with Lycan or Wolf. I see you don’t understand how truly dragons differ from us.” Then he gestured to the hall. “What do you think this is? Do you think we didn’t try to make a pact with them? Didn’t your forefathers tell you what happened to the Lycans and wolves who attempted to approach the dragons with sermons of peace and pacts?”

Considering what Kane told her and how he’d acted when the dragons sensed him, she started to connect the dots.

“You can’t ally with dragons. The Crimson Wing would never allow it,” Wulric said firmly as he walked away. “It came down to a blood pact for the gods to pressure their king into a truce.”

Was the truce what forced Kane into his slumber? It would be better if Kane was here to explain all this; he was their king, after all.

He paused, perhaps reevaluating his approach. “You misunderstand my intent,” he said slowly. “I don’t underestimate wolves; I’m just pointing out the realities. Dragons are fire-breathing, formidable foes, and even the Lycans barely stood a chance against them without the gods. Yes, allying with them could be powerful, but the Crimson Wing, their Elders, are opposed to the integration of their kind with other species.”

Taking a deep breath, she walked away from him and towards the middle of the room. She was now beginning to understand why Kane wanted to keep her away from the other dragons.

Watching her closely, he said, “I seem to have stunned you silent.”

“I am waiting for an answer,” she insisted. “You said if our union happens, you’d have more control over your court. What does that mean?”

“You seem to think I owe you an answer. Get this, Chav’re, I don’t owe you anything. Feel free to do whatever you like, but you don’t seem to comprehend that you’re Aworyn’s last hunter and your fate has already been set.” Those words struck with the force of a decree, “You’ll be my mate and reign over the wolves and the Empire as my queen.”

The lines of his face hardened, his gaze drilling into her as he asserted his claim. Still, she knew prophecies could be broken. How could a goddess have fated her to a dragon if she really intended for her to become the Lycan’s queen?

With startling speed, he closed the gap between them, his presence intimidating as he pressed closer. Her breath caught as his hands cupped her face gently but firmly. A growl rumbled deep in his chest, and his eyes glowed with a fierce yellow instead of their mesmerizing blue.

“Listen closely,” Wulric whispered. “The only reason I agreed to this meeting was to bring you here. It’s the only place you’ll be safe until the Hunter’s Moon. I’ve been waiting patiently for this event. Damn the gods if anyone stands in my way” even you.”

“What’s the point? What’s so special about this lair?” she asked, her voice steady despite his unsettling closeness.

As he thought about her question, Wulric’s yellow eyes dimmed slightly. “There’s nothing ordinary about this lair; it’s an ancient sanctuary created by the dragons.”

“So the dragons can find it?” she asked, thinking Kane might be able to find her. He might, but would he?

“Yes. They created it after all,” he said with a shrug. “But the regent and her council can’t and that’s all that matters. Seraphine won’t stop until you’re dead to keep us from mating Sunday. They will go to any length, and your request to meet was a blessing in disguise. The reason I chose now, to seek this union with a wolf, is not born from mere strategy but necessity. The rise of the dragons threatens all we know, and alone, neither wolves nor Lycans can withstand their wrath. Together, however, we stand a chance.”

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as a shadow fell over his beautiful face. Emory didn’t know much about King Wulric. She imagined him as an ugly thing covered in boils. But he wasn’t what she imagined. Having him so close made her feel strangely comfortable, but she wasn’t sure who Seraphine was. Was that his regent?

With a snarl, she said, “Let go of me.”

“I’ll do it after you correct your tone. I am Rahl Wulric, Lycan King, damn it! As much as I afford you the respect as a Chav’re and my future queen, I need you to do the same!”

Her teeth gritted in frustration. “I still have not heard anything that would make me trust you!”

There was a flicker of irritation in his eyes. With his other hand slipping onto her arm, he grabbed her arm with an oppressive force, digging his fingers into her skin. The man was strong enough to keep her from moving, and it made her furious.

Then she just scoffed. “That’s exactly what I thought,” she said. “You say you want my cooperation, yet here you are trying to force me to do your bidding!”

“Is that what you think?” he asked.

Gently, he cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her bottom lip. She inhaled sharply, suddenly aware of the alluring scent of the wild oasis again. It mingled with the stall scent of the cave—a potent combination that immediately made her head spin. His hand slowly travelled down her side, barely above her waist and up along her stomach.

Why did he touch her like that? She wasn’t sure which was worse: that she liked it or that she didn’t want him to stop. Her gaze shifted between his lips and those eyes that consumed her. When she couldn’t take his intense gaze any more, she turned her head away, but he turned her back to him, his gaze anchoring hers, as though he was in control of what she did next.

“Let go, Rahl,” she whispered.

“The sound of my name on your lips” it’s hypnotic,” he said softly. When he lowered close enough to kiss her, her pulse quickened. “Say it again.”

“Not on your life,” she snapped back, struggling to break free.

Rahl’s grin widened. “Resistance is part of the dance. Fate has a way of guiding even the most resistant hearts. I don’t understand why you’re fighting this so much. You are the last hunter, Emory, and you will be my mate.”

His breath warmed her face as Emory fought the impulse to tell him she already had a mate, and it wasn’t him. But what did it matter, she thought bitterly, having rejected him already?

He finally released her, stepping back to give her some space, but his gaze never left hers. “I’m not cruel enough to force myself on you. I only intend to keep you here until you awaken as a hunter.”

She scoffed at his words. “I am not staying here until Sunday.”

“You may leave if you can find your way out,” Rahl said with a sly grin. “But I assure you, you would awaken as a Hunter before you manage to find the exit. This place is a lair with no return. I knew the risks, but it was worth taking for a good reason.”

Emory stared at him, furious and disbelieving. He trapped them in a lair they couldn’t leave? “What? Why would you do that? There’s no way I’m staying here! If they don’t find me, the hunters will think something terrible happened to me.”

Staying in the lair was dangerous. Without her, the hunters wouldn’t be able to return to Kedar. If they were left out there with the Lycan council’s murderous sentinels, they’d be dead in no time. She didn’t buy that the lair didn’t have an exit. Silently, she scanned the walls and the floor, searching for any signs that might lead her to a way out.

“They won’t,” Rahl said nonchalantly, shrugging before sitting back down on the stairs to his throne. “It’s just two days. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I could kill you,” she retorted sharply.

Leaning back on his elbows, he smiled. “Good luck with that, Emory.”

“Does this mean you cannot leave either?” she asked, her hands on her hips, confronting him with a combative stance. His gaze followed her every move, then slowly swept over her from head to toe before his piercing blue eyes locked with hers again.

“Yes,” he whispered, his voice low and heavy. “I cannot leave.”

Watching his expression, she realized he was telling the truth. By Aworyn, she couldn’t imagine two days alone with a Lycan. From what she could see, no facilities were available for necessities. She had to find a way out, to get away from him, before it was too late.

He stood up and walked over to her. “You look tense,” he said. “You reek of anxiety, worry, suspicion. Maybe you should try to find a way out to put your mind at ease,” he suggested as he got closer.

Rahl kept closing the distance between them, his presence overpowering her, and she continued to back away.

“You aren’t like I expected,” he said. “I thought you’d be coy, reserved, and easy to manipulate. Instead, I see the markings of a warrior and hollowness born of loss and loneliness. I could tell you how stunningly beautiful you are, but I think you’re tired of hearing that.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Emory asked sharply, stopping him in his tracks.

He smiled, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You’re a mystery to me. Let’s face it, by the time we get out of here, you will be my mate.”

“Don’t bother with that. I’m not interested in knowing you. It’s a marriage of means, after all.” She turned away from him, looking for a way out. “I’ll take that suggestion and see if I can get out.”

She walked away quickly, not daring to look back at Rahl. There was a wall that hadn’t been there before, blocking her path. Trapped, a sigh escaped her, frustration simmering within. She turned back, catching the way the lair’s dull light played off Rahl’s sharp features and the subtle streaks in his hair.

He stood with a casual arrogance that somehow didn’t seem arrogant at all when she really looked at him. It was confidence, pure and simple, and it irritated her how it drew her in. The way he watched her, brushing her hair out of her face, she caught him tilting his head, his eyes following her every move.

“Do you believe me now?” His voice broke through her thoughts, smooth and deep.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Believe you?” Emory scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. “That this isn’t some elaborate trap, and you’re not just a self-serving jerk? I’m still deciding.”

He smiled, that slow, knowing curl of his lips somehow reaching into her, stirring something unexpected. “What will it take to convince you?”

Emory hesitated, her eyes scanning the cave. “Maybe start by explaining why we can’t just leave the way we came in?”

He took a step closer. “Because that would be too easy,” he said, half-joking. “No, really, it’s for safety. For both of us. There are threats outside these walls far more dangerous than an annoyingly charming potential mate.”

“Annoyingly charming, huh?” A surprised laugh escaped her. The sound was surprising even to her. It felt good to laugh, even in the bizarre circumstances. “Fine, let’s talk then. Why does your regent and council oppose you?”

Rahl motioned for her to follow him to a pleasant nook in the cave where stone benches circled a small fire pit. As they sat, flickering flames cast dancing shadows across his face.

“It’s disheartening to admit, but it’s about power and greed,” he began. “Our union, the prophecy—it promises peace. But peace doesn’t fill pockets with gold as much as war does. My council would rather profit from chaos than live in harmony. My regent doesn’t want to give up her power.”

“Why don’t you just remove them?” Emory asked.

He shook his head, his face shadowed by the firelight. “My power as king is not absolute,” he confessed. “Seraphine and the council—they hold sway over the territories they govern and have their own agendas. My command is often” contested.”

Emory leaned forward. “Why haven’t you challenged them? You’re the king, after all.”

He chuckled dryly, a sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s not for lack of trying. The politics within the court are complicated and dangerous. Allies are as likely to stab you in the back as enemies. The council wields considerable power. They are distant royal Lycan bloodlines and are entitled to their posts as ministers. I can’t just dismiss them—we need to dismantle their influence from within.”

“I thought a king could compel loyalty, especially in the royal court,” Emory mused, shifting to get comfortable on the hard bench.

He swallowed hard, a gesture Emory caught immediately. His jaw tensed, and the usually vivid blue of his eyes seemed to darken with concern—or was it deceit? He turned his gaze away from her and took a deep breath. The silence stretched between them, heavy and expectant. Emory sensed he was on the verge of revealing something big.

“Just tell me,” she urged, leaning forward.

Rahl met her gaze again, the flickering fire reflecting in his eyes. He was about to respond when a sudden, deafening roar echoed through the lair. They both jumped to their feet, turning toward the sound.

His eyes widened in a way that worried her. “They’ve found us.”

Before Emory could ask who “they” were, the ground beneath them trembled violently, dust and small stones cascading from the ceiling of the cave. A deep, ominous cracking sound resonated through the lair, as if the earth itself was splitting open.