Chapter 3: The King’s Declaration

The mud at the southern border was stained a sickening, metallic silver under the hum of our perimeter security grid.

A dozen Silvercrest warriors stood in a tense semi-circle just outside our boundary line, their heavy plasma-crossbows loaded with silver-tipped bolts, tactical visors flickered with combat data. At the front stood Jaxon, his future Alpha aura flared to its absolute limit, a desperate wave of power meant to intimidate the ancient trees of Shadow Ridge. Beside him, Tanya leaned against his shoulder, looking at the dark forest as if she already owned its corporate rights.

Then, the trees parted. Dominic walked out first, wearing a heavy, dark tactical coat that made his broad shoulders look like solid stone. His golden eyes glowed with an eerie light, fixed on the intruders. Behind him, guarded by massive Lycan warriors, was me, wrapping his oversized black tunic tighter around my shivering body.

"You are trespassing, Vance," Dominic’s voice carried the terrifying weight of a physical blow. A wave of pure Lycan dominance rolled out from him, causing Jaxon's warriors to stagger back, their boots slipping in the mud.

Jaxon sneered, forcing himself forward. "I am here for what belongs to my pack, Lycan. Hand over the Omega, and my men will leave without shedding blood. Don't let one useless girl start a war."

Dominic crossed his massive arms. "A fugitive? My trackers found her dying in the mud on my land, Vance. She smells of your pathetic, weak rejection. By the laws of the Moon Goddess, she is packless. You have no right to demand her."

"She belongs to the Silvercrest mines!" Tanya spat, glaring at me with pure hatred. "An unbonded, useless Omega cannot just roam free in the neutral corporate zones. She’s a thief and a parasite!"

Jaxon’s eyes shifted past Dominic, locking onto me. Seeing me wearing another man's clothes—clothes that reeked of a far superior Alpha—ignited his volatile male ego.

"Elena," Jaxon growled, deploying his authoritative Alpha command. "Get over here right now. Stop playing games with these monsters."

My knees buckled slightly under the remnant of the old pack bond. But before I could take a step, Dominic moved with impossible speed, blocking me completely with his massive frame.

"You must be deaf, boy," Dominic purred, the deadly warning in his tone making the hairs on my arms stand up. "I said she stays. If you take one step across that line, my warriors will dismantle your men piece by piece."

Jaxon’s face turned a violent shade of red. "Are you insane? Why the hell are you risking a bloody border war for a piece of trash that my pack threw away?"

Dominic turned around, looking down at me with unreadable intensity. Then, with a deliberate movement, his large, warm hand wrapped firmly around my waist, sending that familiar electrical shock between us. He pulled me flush against his hard chest, anchoring me to his side.

He faced Jaxon, and his aura exploded—a suffocating shockwave of pure Lycan royalty. The sheer pressure hit the Silvercrest warriors like a physical wall, overloading their tactical visors. Jaxon gasped, his knees violently slamming into the wet mud under the weight. Tanya shrieked, falling to her hands and knees beside him.

"She is not a nobody," Dominic roared, his voice echoing like thunder. "And she is no longer your Omega. She is my Queen."

Jaxon stared up from the mud, his face pale with absolute, paralyzing horror. Dominic leaned down slightly, his lips brushing against the sensitive, healing rejection mark on my neck. "And if you or your pathetic wolves ever step foot on my land again," Dominic whispered, "I will personally march into your territory and feed your heart to my hounds. Now. Run."

Humiliated and terrified, Jaxon scrambled backward, barking a panicked order to his men as they fled across the river.

As their footsteps disappeared, I looked up at Dominic, breathless. "You... you told them I was your Queen. Dominic, did you mean it?"

Dominic’s golden eyes slowly lost their fire, releasing his grip on my waist and stepping back, leaving me shivering. "It was a political lie, Elena," he said ice-coldly. "I told you before—I do not accept mates. The bond is a curse. Tomorrow, my guards will take you to a hidden safehouse."

He turned to walk away, but before he could take three steps, his entire body stiffened.

A sharp, agonizing gasp escaped Dominic’s throat. He fell hard to one knee, clutching his chest as veins as black as ink—resembling a corrupted, pulsing bio-code—began to rapidly spiderweb up his neck and across his face. His golden eyes violently bled into a mindless, pitch-black digital void.

The Lycan blood curse was waking up early, and he was completely losing his mind.