Bound To The Lycan King

Octavia POV

The howling winds cut through the night air, colder than usual, sending shivers down my spine. I gripped the edge of the wooden table, my knuckles white, as my father paced the small living room. His face was grim, his usually kind eyes now hard as steel. The village had been in fear for days, there have been rumors of strange wolves lurking in the woods, watching. But nothing prepared us for the nightmare that descended upon us. We all had no idea why there were wolves watching us or why they were so interested in our territory.

A loud crash echoed from outside, followed by the screams of our pack members. My father froze, his ears twitching as he listened.

"Octavia," he called out gently, his voice low but firm, "go to the cellar. Hide, and don't come out. No matter what you hear. No matter what happens." He instructed me with so much worry laced on his voice.

"But-" I began, the words stuck in my throat, fear clawing at my chest.

"Now!" His voice thundered, more urgent than ever. He grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm, but the look in his eyes was full of something worse than anger-it was despair. "I won't lose you. Not tonight." He let out.

I stumbled backward, my legs feeling as heavy as lead. I didn't want to leave him. Didn't want to leave them. But his expression left no room for argument. My feet moved before my mind could process it, and I sprinted for the trapdoor beneath the kitchen table. The cellar was cold and damp, but it was supposed to be safe.

The door shut behind me with a soft thud, plunging me into darkness. I crouched low, my hands shaking as I pressed them against my mouth to stifle the sound of my ragged breathing. Above me, the sounds of battle grew louder. Howls of pain. Snarls of wolves in combat. And then, I heard my mother's scream-a piercing sound that sliced through the whole chaos.

I clamped my hands tighter against my mouth, tears spilling down my cheeks. I couldn't move. My legs felt frozen, as if anchored to the ground by the weight of my fear. "Please, please, let them be okay." I prayed to the moon goddess.

But the sounds only grew worse. The door above creaked open, and I saw the flash of bloody paws. I wanted to scream, to fight, to do something. But I stayed silent, just as my father had told me.

Then, silence. A deadly, total silence.

I held my breath, praying it was over, that somehow our pack had won. But the footsteps that followed weren't familiar. They were slow. Then came the voices.

"Search the house," a cold voice commanded. "Make sure no one's hiding." I recognized the voice but I couldn't place the owner of the voice.

I pressed myself further into the shadows, my heart racing so fast I thought it might give me away. The sounds of boots crunching on broken wood and glass grew closer. A chair scraped above me, and I heard the sickening thud of something-someone-being dragged across the floor. I had to fight the urge to scream when I realized it was my father.

"Please, don't let them find me. Please," I whispered under my breath, my eyes squeezed shut.

But luck was not on my side. The trap door creaked open, and a pair of cruel, amber eyes peered down at me. I tried to scramble back, but strong hands grabbed me, dragging me out into the dim light of the ruined house.

My body felt weightless, like I wasn't even there. All I could focus on was the scene around me-my father's lifeless body, my mother's crumpled body not far away. My heart shattered into a million pieces.

"Kill her," one of the men said, his voice indifferent, as if he were ordering a meal. His claws gleamed in the faint light.

But another voice, deep and authoritative, echoed through the room. "No."

The man who spoke stepped forward. He was tall, towering over the others, his presence suffocating. His hair was dark as night, and his eyes were an icy blue that sent a shiver through me. The others immediately stepped back, lowering their heads in deference. This was the leader. I instantly realized why I recognized the voice from earlier. He is the supposed Alpha of the Darwood Pack, known to be ruthless and nothing like his late father.

"Cypress, she's just a survivor from the pack. Weak," one of his men argued, clearly confused by his command.

Cypress ignored him, his gaze piercing mine. "She comes with us."

My throat tightened as he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. I was too scared to speak, too shattered to even comprehend what was happening. At that moment, I realized the gravity of it all. My pack was gone. My parents... gone.

"Clean her up. Give her a room," Cypress ordered. His voice was calm, but there was a darkness that made my stomach twist. "She stays with us until I decide what to do with her."

Without another word, I was yanked away, my legs stumbling beneath me as I was dragged toward the waiting caravan of Darwood wolves. They were the most feared pack in the North, their reputation one of ruthless dominance. My fate was sealed. I was now their captive.

The ride back to their territory was a blur. My mind replayed the gruesome scene from the village over and over, the haunting echoes of violence and loss. By the time we arrived at the Darwood Pack House, my entire body felt numb.

I was led to a room in their fortress-like compound, larger than any house I'd ever seen. A maid came in without a word, helping me wash off the blood and dirt. I didn't speak. I didn't ask questions. I just let her dress me in a simple gown. My body was moving, but my mind felt detached, as if it were floating somewhere far away. Shock had gripped me with its icy claws.

As evening descended, the maid returned and beckoned me to follow her. I walked in silence, led through grand halls that felt suffocating despite their size. She guided me into a large hall, where a gathering of Darwood wolves had already begun. The room was filled with murmurs, their eyes all trained on a grand stage at the far end. I stood awkwardly, unsure of what was happening.

Then, Cypress appeared. His presence commanded immediate attention, and the room fell silent as he took his place at the center of the hall.

"The reading will now begin," an elder announced, stepping forward with an ancient-looking scroll in hand. My heart pounded as I tried to understand what was going on. The reading of what?

The elder began to speak in a low, melodic voice, reciting words that sounded like they were pulled from centuries of tradition. "Tonight, we reveal the name of Cypress's mate, the one destined to rule by his side."

My stomach churned. I had never witnessed such a tradition before, I only heard of them but the tension in the room was thick.

The elder's voice grew louder, more reverent as he continued, "The name of Cypress's mate is..."

Time seemed to slow. My breath hitched as the elder's eyes flickered to the scroll, and then to me. "Octavia."

The air was sucked from the room. For a moment, I couldn't believe what I had just heard. My name? How could it be me?

He turned and his gaze fell on me, how did he know my name? He never asked me for my name. None of this made sense. The crowd followed his gaze and their eyes landed on me.

But before I could fully grasp the meaning of it, Cypress's face twisted into a scowl. "No!"

His rejection was swift, cold, and absolute. "I reject her," he growled, his voice filled with disdain, his words sharp enough to cut through the air like a knife.

A ripple of shock spread through the crowd, and my heart shattered anew. Humiliation washed over me in hot, scalding waves. My feet moved before I could think, carrying me out of the hall, away from the stares and whispers, away from Cypress and his cruel rejection.

I ran, not knowing where I was going, just needing to escape. To hide. To disappe