03

*Kiara*

Surrounded by the court and dressed in an attire that feels too tight for my skin, I wait by the daiz for the prince, fidgeting nervously.

A thousand thoughts cross my mind on what he must look like, but I do not have to wait long to find out. The double doors open and he walks in.

He is as handsome as they say he is. Blue jewel toned eyes, dark hair pulled back in a sleek bun and angular sharp features that captures the attention of every woman in court.

My heart skips several unhealthy beats as he crosses the hall in a short distance, making a beeline for me.

He stops before me and I look down shyly, biting on my lower lip nervously.

As customs suggest, I extend my hand to him, holding out for him to wrap his warm fingers around them and take me to the foot of the daiz where the ceremony is to be held.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he jerks suddenly, taking a couple of steps away from me, rather than toward me.

My face crumples in confusion as he backs away, to everyone's dismay.

My heart squeezes painfully and I barely hear the chaos around me over the thudding of my heart.

"Prince Dorian," I call out, like his parents are and I reach for him, scared to death.

He flinches, hands rising to his head. His eyes widen and he takes a turning, heading back out the same way he came in, muttering the word, "Mate."

I run after him, catching up and gripping his sleeve. "My Prince, it is me. We're getting married--"

"Not you! You are not my mate! Never touch me again!" He yells, pushing me back so hard, I fall to the ground.

Hysterical laughter flits across the room as he leaves me lying on the floor and I dare a look up in a daze. I see them. They are laughing at me. All of them. The entire court is laughing at me.

Their mockery and falsettos reach me from across the room as they slander me.

"Slut."

"Just another gold-digger with no shame."

"Disgusting. Unfit for the crown prince."

"He did a good thing rejecting her. What a disgrace."

On and on, the comments invade my thoughts, my head space, until it fills up my head. I whimper, clutching my head tightly, closing my ears, but it is to no avail.

"Father," I whisper.

But father has returned to his castle. I'm all alone here with no one to call my own.

The walls and voices start to suffocate me and I do the only thing that comes to mind.

Run.

**************

All my life, my dreams, everything has come to naught. I wipe at my tears angrily, lifting my dress as I try to overstep a log of wood.

Perhaps, I should not have run.

All I can see is dark and even my keen sight can do nothing against the thick darkness of the woods tonight. My attempt at retracing my steps back to the castle is rather pathetic.

I look around as I walk, swallowing with fear at the slightest sound I hear. The castle is long gone and I do not know my way back.

I am lost.

Twigs snap under my foot as I walk by, using the dim light from the moon to guide me and I might have been walking in circles for hours and I still wouldn't have known.

Time and movement blurs together for me and I wince as moving about in my heeled slippers become uncomfortable.

I am about tossing them off when a snarl ripples through the forest, sending a shiver skittering down my bones.

I look back, eyes searching the woods for the source of the sound and fear grips me when I find a pair of golden eyes gleaming in the forest.

The forest stills as I watch my predator watch me.

Almost immediately, another pair of eyes appear beside the golden ones. Make that two predators, and from their snarls and growls, I can already tell I'm dead meat.

I break into a sprint and I yelp when they come after me like they have been awaiting my movement.

My heart lurches into my throat as I speed past trees, running for dear life as the wolves are hot on my heels, snapping and howling with excitement.

I pant, running in whatever motion I can, avoiding the sharp canines that snap at my heel and threaten to bite my skin off.

It's too dark to see the ground and my foot gets stuck under something, causing me to trip and land harshly on the ground.

My head hits something hard and pain reverberates through my skull.

I whimper, struggling to get on my feet but there is a burning in my ankle that suggests that I have twisted it.

I look ahead to find the wolves drawing nearer and I begin to sweat, pushing myself up, amidst the pain.

I start to run again but something hard knocks into me, throwing me into the nearest tree. I scream as I crash into it, destroying the tree trunk completely and crashing into another.

I feel so much pain, it is excruciating.

I can't move. I can't see. The taste of blood is in my mouth and it trickles down my forehead. My vision blurs and I wheeze, unable to feel my own body.

I'm going to die, I think, as they draw nearer, snarling loud enough to shake the forest.

The golden eyed wolf lunges for me, and I close my eyes, waiting for him to land a killing blow.

But it never comes.

Instead, a fierce howl breaks the dreaded silence, causing my eyes to snap open.

I can barely make out anything as the edges of my vision darken, but there is someone here. Something scary enough to set the second wolf running.

He doesn't make it very far and blood sprays as clawed hands rip out the wolf's throat.

My consciousness slips from me as the mysterious figure draws closer. Tender fingers cup the back of my head and my legs, lifting me off the ground.

Hazel eyes meet mine briefly and I mutter as my eyelids droop. "Who are you?"

"Damien Grey," he says, pulling me into his arms that smell of sandalwood and home.

The name rings a bell but I'm already slipping into the darkness that beckons to me.

And as I drift off, I hear him say, "My mate."