The Hatter's Frostbound Mate

Lyra

My eyes slowly flutter open, and for several long seconds, I don’t understand what feels wrong.

Everything is too soft.

Silky sheets slide beneath my body, cool against me, while thick blankets surround me in warmth that feels almost suffocating. The air smells faintly of burning cedar, winter roses, and something darker I can’t identify. My head pounds as though someone has driven a blade straight through my skull, and when I try to move, a strange weakness settles into my limbs.

But that isn’t what makes panic begin crawling through me like icy claws scraping beneath my skin. I don’t feel my fur. My breath catches painfully in my throat as confusion quickly twists into fear, and I move my hand or what should be my paws toward my face, only for my entire body to go rigid the moment my fingertips brush against my cheek. Skin. Soft, warm skin. No muzzle. No thick frost-white fur. No claws. My heart begins pounding violently against my ribs as I touch my face again, faster this time, my trembling fingers tracing my nose, my lips, my cheeks, and the unfamiliar curve of my jaw.What the hell?

Every feature I touch sends another wave of panic crashing through me because none of this feels right. None of this feels like me. “No…” I whisper, my voice trembling as I throw the blankets away from myself, only to immediately freeze when I see what should have been my paws. Hands. I have fucking hands. Five long, slender fingers stare back at me instead of the frost-white paws I have known my entire life, and for several horrifying seconds, I can only stare at them as though they belong to someone else. “What is this?”

The sound of my own voice frightens me almost as much as my hands because even that is different soft, feminine, almost musical instead of the growls, whines, and snarls I’m accustomed to making. “Why am I not in my wolf form?” Panic explodes through me, hot and violent despite the coldness gathering inside my chest, and I grip the edge of the bed before forcing myself upright.

The moment my feet touch the polished stone floor, however, my unfamiliar legs buckle beneath me, and I fall flat on my face. “Fuck!” Pain shoots through my nose as I groan against the freezing stone, humiliation briefly mixing with my terror while I lie there trying to understand how my entire existence has somehow changed while I was unconscious. Apparently walking on two legs is much harder than it looks. I push myself onto trembling hands and knees before my gaze drops toward my body, and another sickening wave of disbelief rolls through me. Legs. Long, pale legs extend beneath a blue silky dress I definitely don’t remember putting on, the expensive fabric clinging softly to this strange body before flowing around my ankles like frozen water. My stomach twists violently.

Someone dressed me.The realization hits first, followed by something much worse.Someone touched me while I was unconscious.Rage immediately burns through my fear, fierce and instinctive, and for the first time since waking, I desperately wish I had my claws so I could tear apart whoever dared put their hands on me. I grip the bedframe and slowly drag myself upright again, my legs trembling beneath my weight. “Okay, Lyra,” I whisper through clenched teeth, forcing myself to breathe through the panic threatening to consume me. “Stand.” My knees shake violently. “Just… stand.”

I take one uncertain step, nearly losing my balance before catching myself against the bedpost. Then another. Every movement feels unnatural, as though I have been shoved inside someone else’s body and expected to understand how it works, but I refuse to crawl around this room helplessly. I’m a wolf, damn it. Whatever has happened to me cannot erase that. I slowly begin making my way across the room until something near the opposite wall catches my attention a tall standing mirror framed in dark silver. My heart beats harder as I stumble toward it, one awkward step at a time, and the moment I finally see my reflection, I stop breathing.

A stranger stares back at me. No. Not entirely a stranger. Something is buried within those unfamiliar features that feels unmistakably mine, some wildness lingering behind those eyes that makes my wolf stir somewhere impossibly far beneath my skin. I slowly raise one trembling hand, and the woman trapped inside the mirror does the same. Thick waves of silver hair tumble around my shoulders, the ends fading into a pale icy blue that reminds me painfully of the frozen forests I call home. My skin is pale and smooth, almost unnaturally flawless, while my eyes are a vivid purple, bright enough to seem enchanted beneath the morning light spilling through the windows. But it is my ears that steal my attention. Pointed elf ears rise through my silver hair, their skin an icy blue decorated with delicate frost shards that glitter like tiny frozen crystals.

My stomach drops. I cautiously lift my fingers and touch one, half expecting the reflection to disappear or the strange features to dissolve beneath my hand, but the ear is cold beneath my fingertips. Solid. Real. Mine. “What did they do to me?” My voice cracks as fear squeezes around my heart. I slowly turn from one side to the other, examining every unfamiliar curve of this body while my reflection copies each movement, leaving me with nowhere to hide from the truth staring directly back at me. The silver hair. The purple eyes. The pointed frost-covered ears. The human like body. I know exactly what I’m looking at, even if every part of me wants to deny it. An elf. Somehow, someone has ripped me away from my wolf form and trapped me inside the body of an elf.

They turned me into a damned elf.The thought alone makes something furious twist inside my chest, but before I can fully understand what has happened to me, something dark around my throat catches my attention in the mirror, and my blood instantly runs cold. A collar. Thick black metal circles my neck, elegant enough to almost resemble expensive jewelry if not for the suffocating magic pouring from it in waves that make every instinct inside me scream. At its center rests a dark-blue rune shaped like a snowflake, glowing faintly against the black metal and pulsing slowly as though the damned thing possesses a heartbeat of its own.

What the hell is this?I lift my trembling hand toward it, cautiously brushing my fingertips against the metal, and the instant I make contact, pain explodes through me. “Ah!” I jerk backward as violent magic tears through my body, racing through my veins like molten fire and forcing a strangled cry from my throat. For one terrifying heartbeat, the sickening smell of burning skin fills my nose, and I quickly rip my hand away before staring at the collar with wide eyes.Magic.Not ordinary magic either. Powerful magic. Dark magic.Bloodstone magic.Somehow I know it instinctively, and that realization turns my fear into something colder and sharper because whoever put this collar around my throat didn’t simply want to decorate me, they wanted to control me.

I slowly stumble back toward the bed and lower myself onto the silky sheets, my legs still trembling beneath me as I struggle to breathe. “Where the hell am I?” My hands curl tightly against the blankets while fear presses against my ribs. “Where is my family? Where is my pack?” I wait, almost foolishly expecting someone to answer, but no voice comes. No familiar howl reaches me. No paws scratch against the other side of the door. Nothing. The silence somehow makes everything worse because I have never felt this alone before. I force myself to look around properly, desperate to find something that might tell me where I am, and the first thing I realize is that the room is beautiful. Too beautiful.

Dark stone walls surround me, decorated with elaborate silver and crimson tapestries that stretch nearly from the ceiling to the floor. A massive fireplace burns along one wall, orange flames dancing across expensive black furniture and casting long, restless shadows over the room. Frost-covered roses rest inside black crystal vases, their frozen petals glittering beneath the firelight, while enormous windows stretch almost from the floor to the ceiling. For one desperate second, hope sparks inside me.A way out.

I push myself from the bed and slowly make my way toward the windows, still struggling with these unfamiliar legs, before wrapping my fingers around the silver handle and pulling. Nothing happens. I pull harder. “Come on.” Suddenly, blue-black runes flare across the glass, spreading over the entire window like veins of corrupted frost. I immediately release the handle. “Of course.” My jaw clenches as I cautiously place my fingertips against the glass, and dark magic hums beneath them like a warning. Spelled shut. My heart sinks, but I refuse to give up that easily. I turn toward the bedroom door and stumble across the room as quickly as these damned legs will carry me, gripping the handle and twisting it violently. Locked. “No.” I pull again. Another rune flashes beneath my palm, and I jerk my hand away before it can punish me the way the collar did. Spelled too. I slowly step backward, staring between the locked door and enchanted windows while the truth settles heavily inside my chest.I’m trapped.

Whoever brought me here made certain I couldn’t leave. I return to the bed because I don’t know what else to do, lowering myself onto the mattress as my thoughts begin spinning faster. “How did I get here?” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. “Think, Lyra. Think back.” The words sound almost pathetic inside the enormous empty room, but I need to hear something other than this horrible silence. I lie back against the pillows and force myself to search through the darkness clouding my memories, pushing against the aching emptiness inside my mind.

At first, there is nothing. Thencold. Snow. Trees.The memory crashes into me so violently that my breath catches. Suddenly,I am back inside the Frost Forest, running beneath ancient trees heavy with snow, but I’m not trapped inside this strange elven body. I have paws. I have fur. I have claws. Nine magnificent frost-white tails flow behind me as I race between snow-covered trees, each one sparkling beneath the moonlight while ice forms beneath my paws with every step.This is me.

The realization hurts.I remember calling for my family. I remember searching for familiar scents and listening desperately for answering howls, but none came. My pack had left me behind. I was alone. Completely alone. Then another scent entered the forest. Smoke. Leather. Blood. My wolf slowed immediately. Every instinct inside me sharpened as my ears lifted and my nose tested the frozen air. Someone was there. Then I saw him. An elf stepped from between the trees as though the darkness itself had created him. Tall. Powerful. Dangerous.

There was something about him that made every instinct inside me screamrun, yet I stood my ground. I remember his eyes most of all because of the way they watched me with terrifying fascination, cold calculation, and something darker that made my fur rise along my spine. He wasn’t looking at me the way someone looks at an animal. He was looking at me the way a conqueror looks at something rare he has already decided belongs to him.

He approached slowly, completely unafraid, while a warning growl rumbled from my chest. Frost spread beneath my paws, coating the forest floor in glittering ice, but instead of stopping, the elf knelt until he was level with me. His mouth curved into a smile that made hatred twist through my stomach. “You will help me,” he whispered. His hand moved toward me, and I immediately bared my teeth, another threatening growl vibrating through my chest, but his smile only deepened as though my resistance amused him. “I’m Sylus Bloodstone, little wolf.” Then I saw the cloth in his hand. Too late. He moved faster than I expected, pressing it over my muzzle before I could sink my teeth into his flesh. A sickeningly sweet scent flooded my nose and lungs.

I fought instantly. I clawed at him. Bit at anything I could reach. Thrashed violently in his arms while frost exploded across the ground around us, but my strength began disappearing faster than I could fight. My legs buckled. My vision blurred. The forest twisted around me as darkness crept along the edges of my sight. I remember falling. I remember his arms catching me before my body struck the snow. I remember fighting desperately to keep my eyes open while his face became nothing more than a shadow above me. Then everything disappeared.

My eyes snap open, and I gasp violently as I am ripped from the memory, my hands immediately gripping the silky sheets beneath me. “Sylus.” His name tastes like poison on my tongue. I sit upright as understanding finally crashes into me. “This must be Bloodstone Castle.” Anger burns through the fear that has been choking me since I woke, spreading hotter with every heartbeat. “Those damned elves.” My fingers curl into tight fists until my nails bite into my palms.

Sylus Bloodstone kidnapped me. He took me from the Frost Forest, dragged me into his kingdom, trapped me inside an elven body, and locked a magical collar around my throat. I don’t know what he wants from me yet, but one thing becomes painfully clear as I stare at the locked door across the room: Sylus Bloodstone didn’t bring me here as a guest. He brought me here because he wants something from me, and whatever it is, I have the terrible feeling he has no intention of letting hislittle wolfleave until he gets it.

“They kidnapped me. They turned me into an elf.” The words leave my mouth slowly, but saying them aloud somehow makes everything feel more real, and my stomach twists violently as I stare at the unfamiliar hands resting in my lap. Then my gaze falls toward the black collar wrapped tightly around my throat, and another horrible realization settles over me. “And worse…”

My fingers rise cautiously, touching the tender skin just beneath the metal without daring to make contact with the collar itself. “They stopped my wolf.” My chest tightens painfully around the words because my wolf has always been there. She isn’t simply another form I take. She isme. She is the wildness beneath my skin, the instinct guiding every movement, the comforting presence curled around my soul whenever I am frightened or alone. My power has always been there too, flowing through my veins as naturally as blood. Frost. Instinct. Freedom. Everything that makes me who I am.

Everything Sylus has somehow managed to bury beneath this fragile elven skin. Panic claws at my chest as I close my eyes and desperately reach inward, searching for the familiar presence that has accompanied me every moment of my life.Come on.I push through the strange emptiness inside me, searching for fur, claws, frost, anything that feels like home. Nothing answers. My heartbeat quickens.Please.The thought comes out more desperate than I want it to.Please be there.I push harder, refusing to believe she is truly gone, and for one beautiful heartbeat, something stirs deep inside me. A faint growl echoes through my soul. Cold rushes through my veins. My fingertips tingle as frost begins gathering beneath my nails, and somewhere behind the magical barrier separating us, I feel her. My wolf. Relief crashes through me so powerfully that tears immediately burn behind my eyes.

There you are.She pushes toward me, furious and frightened, clawing against whatever magic holds her prisoner, and I desperately reach toward her.Come on. Come back to me.Then the collar erupts. Agony tears through my body without warning. “AAAAH!” I collapse onto the bed as every muscle violently locks, my back arching while dark-blue light explodes from the snowflake rune around my throat. Pain races through my veins like someone is pouring molten fire directly into my blood, burning away every trace of frost I had managed to summon.

I scream until my throat burns, my fingers clawing desperately at the silky sheets because I know touching the collar will only make it worse.

“Stop!” Tears spill from my eyes as another violent wave of magic tears through me. “Please stop!” My wolf snarls somewhere inside me, furious at my pain, and instinctively I try to reach for her again, but the collar punishes me even harder.It knows.Horror mixes with the agony. The damned thing knows whenever I reach for my wolf. “STOP!” I finally force myself to let her go, and the moment I stop reaching for her, the pain disappears as suddenly as it began.

I collapse completely against the mattress, gasping for air as my entire body trembles uncontrollably. For several seconds, I can do nothing except breathe. Tears burn my eyes and slide silently down my cheeks while I curl onto my side, wrapping my arms around myself as though somehow I can hold together everything Sylus is trying to tear apart. My wolf is still there. That should comfort me. Instead, it terrifies me because now I understand exactly what this collar does. It doesn’t simply stop me from shifting. It keeps me separated from part of my own soul, and if I try to break through the barrier, it hurts me until I surrender. Rage begins burning beneath my fear.I hate them. I hate these elves. I hate this beautiful prison. I hate this damned collar. And more than anything, I hate Sylus Bloodstone.

I hate his name. I hate the memory of his hands catching me when I collapsed in the snow. I hate the way he called melittle wolfas though I already belonged to him. But beneath all that hatred lives something I hate admitting even more. Fear. Real, suffocating fear.Why me?

I stare blankly toward the ceiling as the question claws through my thoughts.Out of every wolf clan scattered throughout Wonderland, why did Sylus come looking for me? Out of every magical creature he could have taken, why did he choose a Frost Nine-Tailed Wolf? Why did he know exactly how to suppress my wolf? Why did he already have a collar capable of controlling my magic?

The questions pile on top of one another until breathing becomes difficult again.He planned this.The realization sends a chill through me colder than any frost I have ever created. Sylus didn’t stumble across me in the Frost Forest and decide to take me. He came prepared. He knew what I was. He wantedme. I force myself to breathe slowly, refusing to let panic consume me again, when three sharp knocks suddenly strike the bedroom door. My entire body stiffens.

Every frightened instinct inside me screams that Sylus has come, and my gaze snaps toward the door as my heart begins hammering violently again. Silence follows. Then another knock. I swallow against the dryness in my throat, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks because whoever is standing on the other side of that door will not see me crying. They will not see me broken. “Come in,” I finally say, forcing more strength into my voice than I feel.

The lock clicks, magical runes briefly flashing across the wood before the door slowly opens, and I instinctively tense, ready for whatever comes through it. Instead of Sylus, however, a woman enters. An elf. Her long blonde hair falls almost to her waist in soft waves, and she keeps her eyes lowered as she walks toward me carrying an ornate silver tray in both hands. She doesn’t look threatening, but I don’t trust that for a second.

Not anymore. Not here. My gaze follows every movement she makes while my muscles remain tight, but before I can question her, a familiar scent reaches me. Maple syrup. Warm, sweet, rich maple syrup. My stomach immediately growls loud enough to betray me, and irritation flashes through me because apparently my body has decided breakfast is more important than being kidnapped. The woman silently places the tray on the small table beside my bed, and my eyes drift over everything arranged neatly across it. A stack of warm pancakes covered in maple syrup sits at the center, steam still curling from the top.

Crispy bacon rests beside golden hash browns, and a dark cup of freshly brewed coffee completes the meal. For several seconds, I simply stare at it. Something about the normality of the breakfast feels almost cruel. I have been kidnapped, transformed, collared, stripped of my magic, separated from my family and pack, and locked inside an enchanted room, yet someone has brought me pancakes and coffee as though I am merely a guest waking peacefully inside some luxurious castle. The contrast makes my stomach twist despite my hunger, because no amount of warm food or expensive silk can disguise the truth. I am not a guest here. I am a prisoner.

The elf woman smiles politely at me, but something about that practiced expression makes my instincts tighten because I have no idea whether she is simply a servant following orders or another person Sylus has placed here to watch me. “Lord Sylus asked me to bring you some food, Lady Lyra.” My blood freezes at the title, and for a moment, I almost forget about the breakfast sitting between us.Lady Lyra?Why the hell is she calling me that? I’m not a lady of this kingdom. I don’t belong to Bloodstone Castle, and I sure as hell don’t belong to Sylus.

My lips part to question her, but before I can get a single word out, she bows gracefully and turns away, her long blonde hair swaying behind her as she crosses the room. “Wait—” The word barely leaves my mouth before she slips through the doorway.

The heavy door shuts behind her with a deep thud, followed immediately by the unmistakable click of the lock. Blue-black runes flare across the wood for a heartbeat before fading into nothing, leaving me staring at the door in stunned silence. “Of course,” I whisper bitterly.

My gaze slowly drifts toward the breakfast she left behind, then toward the beautiful furniture surrounding me, the enormous bed covered in silky sheets, the expensive tapestries hanging from the dark stone walls, the roaring fireplace warming the room, and finally the towering, enchanted windows that refuse to open. Everything is beautiful. Everything is comfortable. Everything has been carefully chosen to make this place feel welcoming, perhaps even safe, but understanding settles into me with terrifying clarity as I look toward the locked door again. This isn’t a bedroom. It’s a cage. A luxurious cage, perhaps, decorated with silk and silver and enough beautiful things to make someone forget the bars are invisible, but a cage all the same.

My stomach twists as anger begins replacing the helplessness that has followed me since I woke. Sylus can dress me in silk. He can place me inside an enormous bed softer than fresh snow. He can send servants carrying pancakes, bacon, and coffee on silver trays. He can order everyone in this damned castle to call meLady Lyrauntil the title loses every scrap of meaning it could possibly possess. None of it changes what he has done. None of it makes me his guest. I am his prisoner. My fingers slowly rise toward the black collar wrapped around my throat, stopping just beneath the metal because I remember exactly what happened the last time I touched it. The skin beneath it still aches, and the faint pulse of the dark-blue snowflake rune seems almost mocking now, as though the collar itself knows it has power over me.

I turn my head toward the tall mirror across the room and stare at the woman reflected there. Silver hair spills over my shoulders in thick waves, fading into pale blue at the tips. Bright purple eyes stare back at me, filled with fear, anger, confusion, and something slowly becoming far more dangerous. Frost-covered elven ears rise through my hair, beautiful and unnatural, another reminder of what has been done to me. I barely recognize myself. An elf on the outside. A wolf buried beneath.My wolf.My chest tightens, but this time I refuse to reach for her because I know what the collar will do. Still, I felt her before.

For that one brief heartbeat before the pain came, I felt her fighting beneath this body, snarling and clawing against the magic separating us. That means she isn’t gone. Sylus hasn’t destroyed her. He hasn’t taken her away from me. He has only locked her somewhere inside me, and if something can be locked away, then there has to be a way to set it free. A cold determination begins spreading through my veins, pushing aside the fear that has been controlling me since I opened my eyes.Then I’ll find the key.I don’t care whether the key is literal, magical, or buried inside Sylus Bloodstone himself. I will learn how this collar works. I will learn how these spells work. I will learn every hallway, every guard, every servant, every entrance, and every weakness this castle possesses. I slowly rise from the bed, forcing my unfamiliar legs to support me despite the trembling still lingering in my muscles, and stare toward the locked door. “I’m getting out of here.”

My voice is quiet, almost swallowed by the crackling flames behind me, but there is something dangerous beneath it now, something that feels far more familiar than the reflection staring back at me. The wolf. “I don’t care what I have to do.” Maybe Sylus believes taking my wolf makes me weak. Maybe he believes trapping me inside this elven body makes me harmless. Maybe he thinks the collar around my throat has turned me into something obedient that he can control, but if that is what he believes, then he knows nothing about me.

He knows nothing about the creature he dragged from the Frost Forest. My fingers curl slowly into fists as I stare at the door, imagining Sylus somewhere beyond it, comfortable in the belief that his little wolf is safely contained. Let him believe it. Let him think the frightened girl trapped inside this beautiful room has already surrendered. Let him underestimate me. Because Sylus Bloodstone made one terrible mistake when he dragged me unconscious into his castle. He left me alive. He left my mind untouched. Most importantly, he left my wolf alive beneath the magic restraining her, and sooner or later, I will find a way to break whatever chains he has wrapped around us.

I will tear this collar from my throat. I will find my family and my pack. I will reclaim every piece of myself he thought he could steal. Then I will escape this beautiful cage, and if Sylus Bloodstone or anyone else in this kingdom tries to stand between me and my freedom, I will remind them exactly why creatures once feared the Frost Nine-Tailed Wolves. Even if I have to freeze the entireEverglassKingdom to the ground to do it.

I finish the last bite of my food even though my stomach is still twisted too tightly for me to truly enjoy any of it, and I push the silver tray away before wrapping my hands around the warm cup of coffee, letting the heat seep into my unfamiliar fingers as I stare toward the enchanted windows. Everything about this place feels wrong. The beautiful room. The silk dress against my skin. The collar wrapped around my throat. Even the food feels like part of some twisted game Sylus is playing with me, as though feeding me pancakes and coffee somehow makes kidnapping me less monstrous.

I’m considering whether I could use the silver fork as a weapon when muffled voices suddenly drift from the hallway outside my door. My entire body stiffens. I slowly set the coffee down, listening carefully as footsteps approach, and although these strange elf ears are unfamiliar, apparently they hear far better than I expected because I can distinguish at least two voices speaking beyond the door. I can’t understand what they’re saying, but one voice is deeper than the other. Male. Commanding.

Then silence falls, thick and unnatural, making every instinct inside me sharpen. The lock suddenly clicks, and blue-black runes flare across the door as my heart begins hammering violently against my ribs. A cold feeling twists through my stomach before the door even opens.Sylus.Somehow, I already know it’s him.

The heavy wood swings inward, and the elf from my memories steps into the room. Blonde hair frames his sharp features, and there is something almost unfairly beautiful about him, but whatever beauty he possesses is destroyed by the smile slowly spreading across his face. It isn’t warm. It isn’t kind. It is dark and twisted, carrying the quiet confidence of a predator who knows his prey has nowhere to run.

My wolf would have snarled at him.

Since the damned collar refuses to let her, I do it for her.

Sylus closes the door behind him, and the runes immediately return. “Did you enjoy the food?” he asks casually, as though this is an ordinary morning and I willingly spent the night beneath his roof.

I stare at him in disbelief. “Yes, thank you, but why the hell do I look like this?”

His smile widens. Instead of answering immediately, he walks toward me. Every instinct inside me screams to move away, but I refuse. I will not give him the satisfaction of watching me retreat.

He reaches the table, casually moves the empty tray aside, then suddenly grips my chin between his fingers. My breath catches. Anger flashes through me as I grab his wrist, but his grip only tightens as he forces my face upward until my purple eyes meet his.

“If your power is going to become mine,” he murmurs, “then I can’t have you running around showing everyone what you really are.”

His thumb brushes slowly along my jaw, and disgust twists through me. Then his expression darkens.

“The last Frost Nine-Tailed Wolf.” My heart stops the instant the words leave Sylus’s mouth, and for several seconds, I can only stare at him as the meaning sinks painfully into me.Last?The word echoes through my head until everything else disappears beneath it.

“I’m not the last.” My voice comes out sharper than I expect as I shove against his hand until he finally releases me. “I have my pack. They’re probably looking for me as we speak.” I cling desperately to that thoughtbecause my family would never abandon me. They’ll realize I’m missing. They’ll track my scent through the forest. They’ll find me. Theyhavetofind me.

Sylus laughs, and the sound sends ice through my blood. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Lyra, but you’re the last.”

“No.” The word escapes me instantly because I refuse to believe him.

“You probably don’t remember everything that happened, do you?” His voice becomes almost mockingly gentle. “Don’t worry. It will come back eventually.” Something about those words makes my stomach drop as broken images flicker at the edges of my mind snow-stained crimson, darkness between frozen trees, screams cutting through the night, but every image vanishes before I can grasp it.

Sylus watches my confusion with obvious satisfaction before continuing, “When I took you, you were covered in blood.”

My breathing stops. “What?”

His smile darkens. “Not all of it was yours.” My heart slams painfully against my ribs as dread spreads through me. “All the others were murdered,” he says, tilting his head as though discussing something mildly unfortunate instead of the slaughter of everyone I have ever loved. “Sad, really.”

My eyes widen as the room seems to tilt beneath me. “No.” My voice cracks as grief claws at my chest.He’s lying. He has to be lying.“No, you’re lying to me. They’re not dead!”

Sylus laughs again, and something inside me fractures. “They are,” he says calmly. “And I should know.”

Rage instantly burns through the grief threatening to consume me, and I surge to my feet so quickly that the chair nearly crashes backward. “What did you do?” I demand, my hands trembling violently at my sides. “What the hell did you do to them?”

Sylus catches my wrist before I can move away and violently pulls me toward him, making my body collide against his chest. I immediately shove against him, but his other arm wraps around my waist and traps me against him before his mouth lowers dangerously close to my ear. “Out of all those wolves,”

he whispers, “you’re the special one.” My skin crawls as hatred twists through me. “Your Froststone power is stronger than theirs ever could have been. Ancient. Pure. Powerful enough that, in the right hands, it could bring every kingdom and not just inEverglassbut all kingdoms evenWonderland to its knees.”

My heartbeat becomes painfully loud as I glare up at him. “And you think those hands are yours?” I hiss.

“I know they are.” His confidence makes hatred burn hotter inside me. “With your power, I could rule over every race. Wolves. Elves. Fae. Nymphs. Even creatures you’ve convinced yourself no longer exist.” His fingers tighten around my waist. “So be a good girl and play your part, Lyra, and perhaps I’ll allow you outside occasionally.”

Rage explodes through me, and before I can stop myself, I turn my head and spit directly into his face. Silence immediately fills the room. Sylus goes completely still, and for one terrifying heartbeat, fear shoots through me because I have no idea what this monster will do next. Then he slowly wipes his cheek, his eyes darkening as they settle back on mine, but instead of striking me, he laughs. “Never,” I snarl. “And if I find out you’re the one who killed my family, I swear I’ll kill you.”

Sylus’s twisted smile returns. “I wouldn’t dirty my hands killing useless wolves who couldn’t give me what I wanted.”

“Don’t call them useless!” I lunge toward him, rage drowning out every warning inside my head, but he catches both of my wrists before I can claw his face. “Careful, little wolf.”

“Let me go!” I struggle against his grip as the collar around my throat begins pulsing threateningly, the dark-blue snowflake rune glowing against my skin.

Sylus glances toward it before slowly returning his gaze to me. “There it is,” he murmurs. “That temper.” His eyes travel over me, and my skin crawls beneath the unwanted heat created by his closeness. “I will have the Froststone power, Lyra. It will belong to me, and I will use it however I please.”

“You will never have my power.” I yank against his grip, refusing to lower my eyes even though fear pounds through me. “Never. I won’t let you take it, and I willneverbe yours!” Something changes in Sylus’s expression at those words. His amusement doesn’t disappear, but something darker enters his eyes as his grip tightens around my wrists.

Possession. Challenge. As though my refusal hasn’t discouraged him at all, it has only made him more determined to break me.

He releases one wrist only to lift my chin again. “Trust me,” he murmurs, leaning close enough that I can feel his breath against my lips, “you could do far worse than me.”

My stomach twists. “Is that supposed to impress me?”

“I’m certainly better than most of the creatures wanderingEverglassor evenWonderland.” His arrogant smile returns. “At least I’m the most handsome man you’re likely to find. Imagine being unfortunate enough to end up with a nymph.”

I stare at him for a second before laughing bitterly. “I know the nymphs. They’re kind. They’ve always treated Frost Wolves with respect, and they protected our forests when others wouldn’t.”

His jaw tightens slightly, and satisfaction flickers through me.Good.Apparently, I’ve finally found something Sylus doesn’t like hearing. “And dragons?” he asks, his expression strangely amused.

I almost laugh at the question. “Dragons aren’t real.” Sylus raises an eyebrow at me, and something about the knowing look in his eyes makes my confidence falter.

“They’re stories parents tell pups to make them behave.Don’t wander too far into the mountains or a dragon will carry you away.” Despite everything, a bitter smile touches my mouth. “There are no dragons left inEverglass not even inWonderland there not even inFrostmere. Wonderland is just a myth no ones ever found the entrance to wonderland to find out what’s down there or who lives there.”

Sylus studies me for several long seconds, and something about the amusement in his expression makes my smile disappear because he looks like he knows something I don’t. Then he releases my chin and steps backward. “If you say so, Princess.”

My eyes narrow. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why?” he asks curiously.

“Because I’m not your princess.”

His smile becomes infuriatingly calm. “Not yet.” A chill moves down my spine, but I refuse to let him see how much those words disturb me. “I will never belong to you.”

Sylus turns toward the door as though my threat means nothing. “We’ll see.” The enchanted lock immediately responds to him, blue-black runes crawling across the wood as the door begins to open. “Enjoy your room, little wolf. You’ll be spending quite a bit of time here until you learn how things work in my kingdom.”

Rage twists through me as I watch him, grief over my family still tearing at my heart.They cannot be dead. I refuse to believe him without proof.I need to remember what happened before Sylus found me, and more than anything, I need to escape. My hands slowly curl into fists. “I am not your little wolf,” I whisper, feeling frost briefly tingle beneath my fingertips before the collar gives a warning pulse against my throat. I ignore it. “And I am not your princess.”

My gaze shifts toward my reflection across the room. An elf stares back at me, but beneath the silver hair, purple eyes, and frost-covered ears, my wolf is still alive. Waiting. Fighting.So am I.“You want my Froststone power, Sylus?” I whisper, letting my grief harden into determination. “Then you better pray I never get it back, because if my family truly is dead, I’ll find whoever slaughtered my pack, and there won’t be enough magic in all of Everglass to protect them from me.”

Before Sylus can completely leave, however, he stops. My breath catches when his gaze drops toward the black collar around my throat, and he slowly steps back toward me before running his fingers over the cold metal. I immediately stiffen beneath his touch, every instinct screaming at me to jerk away, but the memory of the collar burning through my body is still too fresh. The skin beneath it throbs as though remembering every spark of pain. Sylus releases a quiet sigh before lifting his eyes to mine. “As I see it, I already control you, Lyra.”

My stomach twists. “No, you don’t.”

His smile widens, and only then do I notice the small black remote resting in his hand. My eyes narrow. “What is that?” He doesn’t answer. His thumb simply presses one of the buttons, and pain explodes through me.

“AAAAH!” My knees buckle instantly as the collar burns against my throat like molten iron, agony tearing through every nerve in my body and racing down my spine until even my fingertips feel like they are on fire. I claw helplessly at the front of my dress because I know better than to touch the collar itself. “Stop!” Another violent wave of pain rips through me, and I collapse onto my knees.

“Please!” The word escapes before I can stop it, and tears immediately burn my eyes as my body trembles uncontrollably beneath the agony. “Stop it! Please, stop it!”

I hate begging him. I hate the desperation in my own voice, but more than anything, I hate the satisfied expression that spreads across Sylus’s face when he hears me plead. He steps closer until his boots stop directly in front of me, and for several humiliating seconds, I remain curled forward on the floor, desperately fighting for breath while the collar continues burning against my skin. Then he finally releases the button. The pain vanishes so suddenly that I gasp, my hands hitting the cold floor as I struggle to keep myself upright. My entire body trembles, the skin around my throat feels painfully raw, and every breath scratches against it as though I’ve swallowed shards of ice.

Sylus crouches in front of me. “See?” I slowly raise my tear-filled eyes toward him, hatred burning through every ounce of weakness he has forced me to show. “I already control your power,” he says quietly. “Now all I need to do is make it mine.” His words send a colder fear through me than the collar ever could, and when he reaches forward to brush a strand of silver-and-blue hair away from my face, I immediately jerk away. He only smiles. “Once I have the Froststone power under my command, every realm will bow before the Bloodstone family. Elves. Wolves. Fae. Nymphs and even the dragons. Every kingdom that ever dared believe itself beyond our reach.” Something almost feverish enters his eyes before he adds, “And I’ll be king.”

I stare at him as the horrible truth finally becomes clear. This isn’t simply about me. Sylus doesn’t want my power because it fascinates him, he wants a weapon.He wants to turn me into one.My stomach churns at the thought. “I’ll never allow that.” My voice is weak from screaming, but I force myself onto my feet anyway. My knees shake violently beneath me, yet I straighten my back and meet his gaze. “You will never take my power from my body.”

Sylus laughs, but there is nothing amused about the sound this time. It is cruel, cold, and terrifyingly certain. “Oh, Lyra. You still don’t understand.” He rises until he towers over me. “I don’t need to remove it.”

My heartbeat stutters. “What?”

His smile darkens. “I’ll simply bend you to my will.” A chill crawls down my spine as he begins circling me like I’m something he has already purchased, and every step he takes makes my anger burn hotter. “I’ll let your power out whenever I need it,” he continues. “Until then, you will remain exactly where you are.” His gaze travels deliberately around the beautiful bedroom. “In this room.”My prison.My hands slowly curl into fists. “And while you’re here…” He stops directly in front of me again, his eyes locking onto mine. “We can get to know each other.”

I glare at him, refusing to let the fear inside me win. “I have no interest in knowing you.”

His expression remains calm. “You will.”

“No.” I shout.

His eyes darken with something possessive and dangerous. “Yes.”

Sylus steps closer until barely any space remains between us, his presence suffocating as he stares down at me. “You will learn your place here, Lyra. Eventually, you’ll understand that fighting me changes nothing.” His fingers brush beneath my chin, but I immediately pull away, refusing to let him touch me as though I belong to him. “You will be mine,” he whispers. “Your power, your body, your soul.”

Something inside me snaps, and my hand moves before I can think.Smack.My palm connects with his face, the sharp sound cracking through the room before everything falls silent. My heart stops as Sylus’s face remains turned from the force of the slap, a red mark slowly forming across his cheek. For one terrifying heartbeat, neither of us moves.What did I just do?Fear claws through my stomach, but I refuse to apologize, and I refuse to lower my eyes. Sylus slowly turns his head toward me, his expression terrifyingly calm. “I will never be yours to control,” I tell him, even though my voice trembles. “I will get free.”

Sylus laughs before his hand suddenly closes around my throat beneath the collar, making me gasp as his fingers tighten just enough to frighten me and force me backward until my legs strike the edge of the bed. “You can try to escape, Princess.”

I grip his wrist, digging my fingers into his skin. “Let go of me.”

“But it won’t happen,” he replies with disturbing calmness. “I have this entire castle spelled shut. Every window. Every door. Every passage that could possibly lead you outside.” His thumb brushes the edge of the black collar, and my stomach drops. “And this? This collar will never come off, no matter what you try.”

I dig my nails harder into his wrist. “You don’t own me.”

His gaze burns into mine. “Accept what you are here. Mine to use.” Rage explodes through me not fear, not helplessness, but something far stronger, something ancient that seems to awaken beneath my skin in answer to my fury. Cold suddenly rushes through my veins, stealing my breath, and Sylus feels it too because his eyes immediately drop toward my hands.

Frost crawls over my fingertips as beautiful silver-blue crystals spread across my skin, sparkling beneath the firelight. Sylus releases my throat in surprise, and I stumble backward, clutching my neck, but I barely notice the ache because I can’t stop staring at my hands. Frost.My frost.A tiny laugh of disbelief nearly escapes me as hope crashes through my chest. “You’re still there,” I whisper.

Deep inside me, something stirs in answer, and warmth fills my chest despite the ice covering my fingers.My wolf.I can’t see her. I can’t shift. I can barely feel her through whatever magical barrier this damned collar has created between us, but she is there and for the first time since waking in this prison, I know Sylus hasn’t taken all of me.

Waiting. Fighting. I can feel my wolf somewhere deep inside me, clawing against the magical barrier separating us, and emotion tightens painfully around my heart.I’m here,I think desperately as the frost thickens around my fingers.I haven’t forgotten you.

When I lift my eyes toward Sylus again, his expression has changed, and for the first time since entering this room, he looks genuinely surprised. His gaze moves between my frost-covered fingers and the black collar around my throat. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

A slow smile spreads across my face, and the sight clearly irritates him. “You thought this thing could completely suppress me?”

His surprise quickly disappears beneath another arrogant smirk. “So I can’t entirely suppress your power.” He steps toward me again, but I instinctively raise my hands, silver-blue frost sparkling across my fingertips, and Sylus stops. It is only a tiny hesitation, barely more than a heartbeat, but it fills me with more hope than anything else has.He noticed.

He can pretend otherwise, but Sylus Bloodstone just hesitated because of me, because of my power, and maybe that means he doesn’t understand Froststone magic nearly as well as he thinks he does. “No matter,” he says, but beneath his confidence, I hear something new. Uncertainty. “That tiny amount of power won’t do anything for you. You’re still mine. Deal with it and do as you’re told.”

I slowly press my frost-covered hands against my chest, letting the cold sink through my silky dress and into my skin, but instead of hurting me, it feels comforting and familiar like snow beneath my paws, winter wind rushing through my fur, and nine magnificent tails flowing behind me beneath the frozen moon.Home.

Tears sting my eyes again, but this time they aren’t born from fear. My wolf is still there. Sylus didn’t destroy her, and neither did this damned collar. She is waiting for me to break whatever separates us, waiting for the moment I can transform again, and when that moment comes, I’m getting out of here. I raise my eyes toward Sylus, determination replacing every trace of fear in my voice. “Don’t underestimate me.”

Sylus raises an eyebrow at me, but I refuse to look away. “You won’t have this power, Sylus. No matter what you do to me.”

His lips slowly curve into that arrogant smile I’m already beginning to hate. “Brave words.” He takes another step toward me, but I refuse to move backward, even when my stomach twists with fear. His eyes linger on the frost covering my fingers before returning to mine. “But let’s see how long you can stay brave.” I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply those words unsettle me, and eventually, he turns toward the door. The blue-black runes immediately respond to his presence, crawling across the wood as the lock releases. Before leaving, Sylus looks back at me, his gaze dark, possessive, and calculating, and a disturbing realization settles over me, my resistance isn’t discouraging him; it fascinates him.

Then he disappears into the hallway, the door slams shut, and the lock clicks behind him. I remain completely still until his footsteps finally fade, and only then do my knees weaken. I sink onto the edge of the bed and force air into my trembling lungs. “In…and out,” I whisper, pressing my shaking hands against my chest as the frost slowly disappears from my fingers, melting into pale-blue mist before sinking beneath my skin. But now I know the truth. My power is still mine. The collar can hurt me, Sylus can lock every door and window, and he can trap me inside this unfamiliar body, but he made one mistake he showed me the collar isn’t perfect. I press my palm over my heart, imagining my wolf waiting somewhere beyond the magical barrier separating us.Wait for me. I’m going to find my way back to you.

When I do, Sylus Bloodstone is going to learn the difference between controlling a Frost Nine-Tailed Wolf and making one angry. I stare down at my ordinary-looking hands, remembering the shock on his face when my frost appeared despite the collar.That shouldn’t be possible.His own words replay in my mind, and hope begins burning through my fear as I carefully touch the skin beneath the black metal. “If my power can surface…” I whisper, looking toward my reflection. “Maybe I can use it to break this damned collar.”

The thought sends my heart racing as I consider what might happenif I can freeze the collar deeply enough to make the metal brittle, crack the snowflake rune, or somehow disrupt whatever Bloodstone spell keeps my wolf trapped beneath my skin.

I don’t know enough about their magic to know if it will work, but for the first time since waking inside this beautiful prison, I have something resembling a plan: break the collar, freeze one of the enchanted windows, shatter the spell, and run as fast and as far as these unfamiliar legs or hopefully my paws can carry me until Bloodstone Castle and the Everglass Kingdom are far behind me. The thought of freedom makes my chest ache, and immediately my mind returns to Frostmere.Home.

The frozen forests, towering ice-covered mountains, Frost Wolves and Frost Foxes, and most painfully, my family.Sylus’s cruel words echo through my thoughts again.You’re the last.“No.” I shake my head hard. “I’m not believing him.” Not without proof.Maybe my family escaped. Maybe members of my pack survived whatever happened that night. Maybe they’re searching for me right now, and I have to believe that because the alternative leaves an emptiness inside my chest so enormous I can barely breathe around it.

“I’ll find them,” I whisper. “Or I’ll find the truth.” Either way, I cannot stay here. I push myself from the bed and begin pacing, trying to organize my thoughts.How do I escape? What do I need? How do I use my magic without triggering the collar?Then I glance down at the long silky blue dress Sylus’s servants put me in and immediately frown. “This won’t do.” If I manage to break the collar and transform, this ridiculous thing will either tear apart or become tangled around me, and even if I remain in this elven form, I can’t exactly climb through a window and flee across an entire kingdom dressed for a royal ball.

“I need something that can withstand my wolf form.” I cross the room and pull open the enormous wardrobe, only to stare in disbelief at rows upon rows of elaborate gowns silver, blue, white, covered in crystals, embroidery, and enough flowing fabric to make escaping impossible. “Does this man think I’m a doll?” I mutter before something hidden between two longer gowns catches my attention. I push them aside, and for the first time since waking here, a genuine smile touches my lips. “Now that might work.”

I pull a shorter dress from the hanger, its plaid skirt patterned in black and deep icy blue while the solid pale-blue top reminds me of frozen lakes beneath winter sunlight. It’s still a dress, but at least I can move in it. “Better.” I quickly remove the long gown, refusing to think too deeply about whoever dressed me while I was unconscious, and change into the shorter outfit. Immediately, I feel less restricted, and when I walk toward the mirror, I finally recognize a little more of myself in the reflection. Not completely the frost-covered elven ears still feel strange, my silver hair with pale-blue tips belongs to a version of myself I’ve never known, and the black collar remains around my throat like a chain reminding me that Sylus believes he owns me but the woman staring back looks less like his carefully dressed prisoner.

“Almost.” I study my elaborate waves and roll my eyes because they make me look far too much like some obedient Everglass princess. “Definitely not.” I cross toward the nightstand, find a brush and several hair ties inside one of the drawers, and immediately begin tearing apart the elaborate hairstyle, brushing my silver-and-blue hair until it falls freely and naturally down my back, determined to erase every piece of the woman Sylus is trying to turn me into and find Lyra again.

I divide my silver-and-blue hair into sections and begin weaving it into a long braid, letting the repetitive motion calm the chaos inside my head over, under, pull tight, again until I finally tie off the end and feel a little more grounded, a little more like myself. I return to the bed, sit down, and pull the ridiculous slippers from my feet, smiling faintly when my bare toes touch the cold floor. “Okay.” I glance toward the mirror. “Now I look better.” More like Lyra, or at least as much like myself as I can while trapped inside this strange elven body.

I stare at my hands for several moments before curling my fingers against my palms. “I’m getting out of here,” I whisper, and this time the words aren’t spoken from anger alone they’re a promise. “And if Sylus tries to stop me, I’ll freeze the entire Everglass Kingdom if that’s what it takes to become free.”

The thought should terrify me, but instead it brings me a strange sense of comfort as I grip the edge of my plaid skirt and begin considering everything I need to do.I can’t simply run blindly and hope no one follows me. I need to learn this castle first the guards and their rotations, the doors and windows, the hidden servant passages, where Sylus keeps the remote controlling my collar, and most importantly, how far his control over the damned thing reaches.

But another question immediately enters my mind.Then what?Escaping Everglass is only the beginning. Frostmere would be the obvious place to go, especially if there’s even the smallest chance my family survived, but Sylus knows where I come from, which means Frostmere will probably be the first place he searches. Maybe I need somewhere he wouldn’t expect me to go, somewhere so well hidden that even Sylus Bloodstone couldn’t easily follow me.

One name slowly rises from the stories of my childhood.Wonderland.I sit straighter as curiosity begins stirring beneath my fear. No one truly knows where Wonderland is. Some claim it isn’t a single kingdom at all but an entire hidden realm concealed behind ancient magic, while others say the pathways leading there constantly move and only reveal themselves to certain creatures.

I always dismissed those stories as nonsense, but after waking inside an elf body with an enchanted collar suppressing my wolf, perhaps I shouldn’t be so quick to laugh at myths anymore. My thoughts immediately return to Sylus and the strange look he gave me when I told him dragons weren’t real.

Dragons.I had laughed because everyone knows dragons are stories told to pups to stop them from wandering too far into the mountains or at least that’s what I’ve always been taught. Yet Sylus hadn’t looked amused because he agreed with me. He looked amused because he knew something I didn’t.

“What do you know?” I whisper, imagining that infuriating smirk of his, and another name emerges from the forgotten stories buried inside my memories.Mirrormere.The legendary dragon kingdom. Supposedly, Mirrormere lies somewhere west of Everglass, beyond the frozen borders near Frostmere, hidden among enormous mountains that reflect the sky so perfectly travelers become hopelessly lost trying to cross them. According to the oldest legends, dragons once ruled there alongside powerful beings capable of taking forms almost indistinguishable from elves. Some stories claim Mirrormere vanished centuries ago, swallowed by magic along with the last dragons, while others insist it never disappeared at all that its rulers simply decided they no longer wanted the rest of the world to find them.

My pulse quickens as the old stories race through my mind because I used to believe they were nothing more than tales meant to entertain children, but now I’m not so sure.What if Mirrormere is real? What if dragons truly exist? What if Wonderland exists too?I can’t stop wondering what kind of creatures live beyond those hidden borders or, more importantly, whether Sylus could follow me there. Curiosity begins mixing with my desperation until something almost exciting sparks beneath my fear. I want to know the truth. I want to discover whether every myth I grew up hearing contains something real, see Mirrormere with my own eyes, and understand why Sylus smiled when I called dragons imaginary.

But first, I have to survive Everglass. I rise from the bed and walk toward the enchanted window, pressing my palm carefully against the glass as blue-black magic immediately shimmers beneath my hand. Closing my eyes, I search gently for the familiar cold buried beneath my skin without reaching deeply enough to trigger the collar, and for several agonizing seconds, nothing happens. Then the faintest chill tingles through my fingertips. My eyes snap open as a tiny snowflake forms beneath my palm, and a smile slowly spreads across my face. “There you are.” The collar gives a faint warning pulse around my throat, forcing me to withdraw my hand, but it can’t erase my smile.

Sylus thinks this castle is impossible to escape. He thinks the collar makes me powerless and that I’m hislittle wolfto command whenever he needs my Froststone magic.Let him think that.While Sylus believes he is training me to become his weapon, I’ll be learning how to destroy every chain he has placed around me. Then I’ll return to Frostmere and discover what truly happened to my family, and if there is nothing left for me there, I’ll find somewhere else to call home.

I stare west through the enchanted glass toward mountains I cannot yet see.I’ll find Mirrormere. I’ll find Wonderland. I’ll discover whether dragons truly exist.And maybe somewhere beyond the borders of everything I have ever known, I’ll finally reclaim the one thing Sylus Bloodstone never intended me to have again my freedom.