Mated To The Ice Werewolf King

Chapter 6

SERAPHINA

The journey to Winterhold is a blur of pain and humiliation I'll never forget.

Somewhere during that brutal ride, while I drifted in and out of consciousness, Kieran ordered my hands shackled. I woke to the cold bite of silver chains around my wrists, the metal burning against my skin and weakening my wolf.

"Hurts," Luna whimpers. "Burns."

"I know," I whisper back, but there's nothing I can do.

When we finally ride through the massive gates of Winterhold, I'm barely able to sit upright in the saddle. The fortress looms above us, all dark stone and sharp towers that seem to swallow the fading light. Soldiers and servants stop their work to stare as we enter the courtyard, their expressions ranging from curiosity to open hostility.

I try to take in my surroundings, to orient myself in this foreign place, but everything feels wrong. The air is colder here, sharper, like it's cutting into my lungs with every breath. The stone walls seem to press in from all sides, and the weight of hundreds of hostile eyes makes my skin crawl.

Kieran dismounts in one fluid motion and turns to look at me. There's something in his expression, cold satisfaction mixed with barely controlled fury, that makes my stomach drop.

Before I can even attempt to get down from my horse, he grabs the chains at my wrists and yanks hard.

I cry out as I'm pulled off the horse, barely managing to land on my feet. The impact sends fresh pain shooting through my injured ribs, and the silver chains burn hotter where his hands grip them.

"Move." His voice is cold, emotionless. He starts walking toward a side entrance, dragging me behind him like I'm an animal on a leash.

I try to keep up, but my legs are shaking and my body is screaming in protest. Every step sends agony through my battered ribs, and the silver chains are sapping what little strength I have left.

"I can't—" I gasp, stumbling. "Slow down, I'm still—"

He yanks the chains so hard I nearly fall to my knees. "You can and you will." He doesn't even look back at me. "Or I'll drag you the rest of the way. Your choice, Princess."

The way he says 'Princess' makes it sound like an insult.

"I hate him," Luna snarls weakly. "I want to tear his throat out."

"Get in line," I mutter.

We descend stone steps into the belly of the fortress, and the temperature drops with each level. The smell hits me before we even reach the bottom, blood, sweat, human waste, and despair. The dungeons.

My feet slip on the damp stone, and I crash into Kieran's back when he stops abruptly. He turns, and for a moment, I see something flicker in those ice-blue eyes as he takes in my struggling, pain-wracked form.

Then it's gone, replaced by cold indifference.

"Having trouble keeping up?" he asks mockingly. "Strange. I thought princesses were supposed to be delicate flowers who needed protecting. But you look more like a common criminal to me."

I force myself to straighten despite the pain, drawing on every ounce of royal dignity I have left. "I am Princess Seraphina of the Eastern Kingdom." My voice shakes but carries authority. "And you will show me respect."

He laughs, a dark, cruel sound that echoes off the stone walls. "Respect?" He steps closer, and I instinctively back away until I hit the cold wall behind me.

My heart starts pounding harder, not just from fear. His scent hits me as he moves into my space, pine and snow, wrapping around me like a warm blanket. It also makes Luna stir despite her weakness.

"I still hate him," she whispers, her tone trembling with confusion. "But I want him closer. Why do I want him closer?" The question seems more for herself than for me.

"You want respect?" His voice cuts through her words like a blade. "You destroyed a peace treaty, reignited a war, and got men killed because you couldn’t face your duty. Tell me, Princess, what about that deserves respect?"

"I am still royalty, regardless of what’s happened. I deserve to be treated with—"

"You deserve nothing." He leans in, his face inches from mine, and my entire body responds. Heat floods through me despite the cold dungeon air. My skin feels too tight, hypersensitive to his proximity. I can feel the warmth radiating from his body, and every instinct I possess screams at me to close the distance between us.

His breath ghosts across my lips when he speaks, and I have to fight not to lean into it.

"This is wrong," Luna whimpers, but there's hunger in her voice. "We should be terrified. Why does every part of us want him to touch us? Why do I want him to press closer, to—"

I shove her down, my face flushing with shame and something far more dangerous.

"You can't just—" I reply, pulling back into our conversation.

"I can do whatever the hell I want." His voice drops to something deadly quiet, and the sound of it does something to my insides, something I don't want to acknowledge. "This is my kingdom. My fortress. My dungeon. And you?"

He reaches out and grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes.

The moment his skin touches mine, electricity shoots through me. My breath catches, and I watch his eyes widen slightly; he felt it too. His fingers are warm against my jaw, almost gentle despite the force, and my body betrays me entirely. Heat pools low in my belly, and I have to bite back a sound that has nothing to do with fear.

"Yes," Luna purrs, and the sound is practically indecent. "Touch us. More. We need—"

"You're mine to do with as I please."

The words should horrify me. Instead, they send a shiver down my spine that's entirely wrong. My pulse hammers beneath his fingertips, and I know he can feel it, can feel exactly how my body is responding to his dominance, to his claim.

His jaw clenches, and I see something flicker in his eyes, confusion mixed with hunger, before he shutters it away.

He releases me abruptly and continues walking, jerking the chains so hard I stumble after him. We pass cell after cell, and I can hear sounds from behind some of the doors, moaning, sobbing, the rattle of chains.

When he finally stops in front of one of the cells and unlocks it, I see what's waiting inside. The cell reeks of blood and rot. Stone walls covered in stains. A floor thick with grime. A rotting cot that looks like it might collapse under any weight.

This is where he's going to put me.

I start backing away instinctively, the chains pulling taut between us. "No." The word comes out before I can stop it. "You can't, I won't!"

"You will." He turns to look at me, and something in his expression makes my blood run cold. "Unless you'd prefer I find you accommodations in the torture chamber instead? I'm sure we can make room."

I take another step back, shaking my head. "Please, anywhere but—"

Before I can finish, he moves. In one fluid motion, he bends and sweeps me off my feet, throwing me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

"Let go of me!" I start hitting his back with my chained fists, the silver burning my skin with each impact, my strikes growing more frantic. "No, no, no—please don't put me in there! Anywhere else, I'll do anything—just not—"

"Begging already?" He sounds almost amused as he carries me into the cell. "Save your breath, Princess. No one down here can hear you scream."

Then he throws me.

I land hard on the rotting cot, the impact driving the air from my lungs and sending fresh agony through my injured ribs. For a moment, I can't breathe, can't think past the pain radiating through my body.

When I finally manage to push myself up, Kieran is standing in the doorway, watching me with those cold eyes.

And something inside me snaps.

All the fear, all the pain, all the humiliation of the past day crash over me at once, and it transforms into pure, incandescent rage. I force myself to stand, ignoring the way my legs shake and my ribs scream in protest.

I cross the small cell and slap him across the face as hard as I can.

The sound cracks through the dungeon like thunder.

"I am a princess!" The words tear from my throat, raw and desperate. "You have no right to treat me this way! No right to disrespect me like I'm nothing! No right to—"

He laughs.

It's not the cold, mocking laugh from before. This is darker, more dangerous, a sound that makes every instinct I have scream at me to run.

Before I can even process what's happening, his hand wraps around my throat.

Not choking me, not yet, but holding me in place with an iron grip that makes it clear he could crush my windpipe if he wanted to.

He forces me backward until my spine hits the damp stone wall, his body caging me in completely.

His face is inches from mine, and the fury in his ice-blue eyes is terrifying.

"You're no f*****g princess here," he snarls, each word sharp as a blade. "You're my prisoner. And if you think this cell is the worst I can do to you, you're even more naive than I thought."

His grip tightens slightly, and I struggle for air. My hands come up instinctively to grab his wrist, but the silver chains burn and weaken me. I can't fight him off.

His thumb presses against my pulse point, and I know he can feel how fast my heart is racing. Fear, yes, but there's something else too, something I don't want to acknowledge.

Luna is going insane in my mind, snarling and whimpering at the same time, pushing feelings at me that make no sense.

Terror mixed with something that responds to his dominance, his proximity, the heat of his body against mine, despite the cold of this place.

"And if you ever strike me again," he continues, his voice dropping even lower, "I'll have you whipped in the courtyard in front of every soldier in this fortress.

They'll watch as I strip away what's left of your precious dignity, and then they'll know exactly what happens to prisoners who forget their place."

Then he releases me abruptly and steps back like I've burned him.

I collapse against the wall, gasping, one hand going to my throat where I can still feel the phantom pressure of his fingers. My legs won't hold me, and I slide down until I'm sitting on the filthy floor.

Kieran stares at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering behind those cold eyes. Then his face goes cold and blank.

"Welcome to Winterhold, Princess," he says, his voice mocking. "I do hope you enjoy your stay."

He turns and walks out, the door slamming shut behind him with brutal finality.

The lock clicks, and I'm alone in the darkness with the sound of my own ragged breathing and Luna's confused whimpering in my mind.

I sit there on the filthy floor, my whole body shaking. I let the tears come. Silent and bitter, they track down my cheeks and drip onto the stone floor.

I cry for the life I've lost. For the people who've died because of my choices. For the future that's been ripped away.

But most of all, I cry because some deep, instinctual part of me that I can't control responded to the Ice King's touch even as he degraded me.