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He Locked The Collar On My Cousin, I Shattered The Mycenaean Seal Novel Cover

He Locked The Collar On My Cousin, I Shattered The Mycenaean Seal

After a decade of devotion, Julian betrays her. Branded a wolfless defect, she watches him collar her cousin before ordering her execution. But the fatal blow triggers her true awakening as a pureblood Mycenaean. This legendary transformation summons Valerius, the lethal Northern Warlord. Offering a dark blood pact to make her his Queen, they unite to burn her treacherous family's empire to the ground.
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Chapter 2

"Get her out of the cathedral," Julian ordered, not even sparing me a second glance. He waved a dismissive hand at the two heavily built enforcers flanking the altar. "She taints the sacred ground."

"You cannot do this!" I screamed, tearing my gaze from Serena's smug, painted face to glare at the man I thought I knew. "Julian, the pack elders will never allow a broken oath!"

"I am the Alpha," he sneered, casually adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. "The elders will accept a Luna who actually possesses a wolf. You are nothing but an administrative liability."

"I gave you ten years of my life," I argued, my voice echoing violently off the cold stone walls. "I served this pack when your father died! I managed the territories. I kept this pack from starving!"

"Paperwork," Julian mocked, rolling his eyes. "Any human could do that. We are wolves, Aria. We need strength, not a glorified secretary."

"And Serena is strong?" I challenged, pointing a shaking finger at my cousin. "She hides behind your title and spends the pack's money!"

"Watch your mouth, defect," Serena snapped. She stepped closer to Julian, resting a manicured hand flat against his chest. "I am your Luna now. Show some respect, or I will have you flogged."

"I am done pretending," Julian sighed, his patience entirely evaporating. "Take her away. Lock her in the holding cells until the mating ceremony is finished. I do not want to look at her anymore."

The enforcers lunged forward. They grabbed my arms, their thick leather gloves clamping down on my bare skin like iron vices. One guard seized my left wrist, while the other dug his fingers ruthlessly into my right shoulder. His thumb pressed directly over my crescent-shaped birthmark.

"Do not touch me," I warned, thrashing fiercely against their grip. I tried to dig my heels into the marble floor, but they dragged me backward, my silk dress tearing at the seams.

"Quiet, defect," the taller guard growled. He yanked me forward, nearly pulling my arm out of its socket.

"Release me!" I shouted, kicking blindly at his shins.

Then, the fire exploded.

It did not spark from the ceremonial torches lining the aisle. It erupted straight from inside my own flesh. The crescent mark on my back flared with a blinding, white-hot heat that seared through my veins like liquid magma.

"What the hell?" the tall guard shouted. He yanked his hand back as if he had grasped a live wire.

The thick leather of his combat glove instantly disintegrated. Ash drifted through the cold cathedral air, leaving his bare, blistered fingers exposed to the horrified crowd. He dropped to his knees, clutching his ruined hand.

"She is burning!" the second guard yelled, frantically shaking soot and embers from his own uniform. "Alpha, her skin is literally on fire!"

"Restrain her!" Serena shrieked from the altar. She clutched the silver collar around her throat, her eyes wide with sudden, animalistic panic. "She is using witch magic! Kill her!"

"Do not be ridiculous," Julian snapped, though he stumbled backward, his confident posture crumbling. "She is a defect, not a witch!"

I did not have the breath to tell them they were both entirely wrong. My knees hit the stone floor with a brutal crack.

"Aria!" an elder yelled from the front pew, scrambling to his feet. "Someone fetch the healer!"

"Stay back!" Julian commanded, his voice cracking. "No one approaches her!"

My spine arched backward against my will. A sickening snap echoed across the silent room. My shoulder blades separated, shifting and grinding together like massive tectonic plates. The agony was blinding, absolute, and intoxicating.

"Make it stop," I choked out, clawing at the heavy silk of my wedding dress, desperate for air.

Another bone cracked. Then three more. My ribs expanded violently, tearing the tight bodice of the gown straight down the middle. I collapsed onto my side, convulsing as my skeletal structure forcibly and ruthlessly rebuilt itself.

"She is shifting," an older woman gasped, pointing a trembling finger at me. "Look at her hands!"

"Impossible," Julian muttered, shaking his head wildly. "She has no wolf. The healers confirmed it years ago!"

"Do something, Julian!" Serena demanded, stomping her heel. "She is ruining our ceremony!"

I forced my head up. Through the blur of agonizing tears, I saw Julian rip a silver short sword from his ceremonial belt. The polished metal gleamed dangerously under the high cathedral lights.

"Julian, what are you doing?" an elder shouted. "You cannot draw a weapon in the Winter Cathedral! It is sacrilege!"

"Putting down a rabid animal," Julian replied, his chest heaving with panic.

He did not hesitate. He vaulted down the marble steps, his heavy shoes slamming against the stone. He closed the distance in seconds, raising the silver weapon high above his head.

"You will not ruin my reign," he snarled.

He aimed the silver blade straight for the back of my exposed neck.

"Alpha, stop!" someone screamed from the crowd.

I did not roll away. I did not cower. The intense heat inside my chest suddenly crystallized into pure, lethal focus.

As the blade swung down with lethal force, I whipped my arm up and snatched his wrist out of mid-air.

The impact sent a violent shockwave up my forearm, but his downward strike halted instantly. The blade stopped an inch from my skin. Julian's eyes widened to the size of saucers. He stared at my grip as if his brain completely failed to process the physical reality of my strength.

"Release my arm," he commanded, straining his muscles to push the blade closer.

"No," I whispered. My voice sounded rough, vibrating with a dark, heavy resonance entirely different from my usual tone.

The boiling blood rushing through my veins surged straight into my fingertips. My rounded, perfectly manicured nails hardened instantly. They stretched rapidly, darkening into thick, razor-sharp talons.

They sliced right through the expensive fabric of his suit jacket and sank deep into his flesh.

"Ahhh!" Julian roared, his knees buckling as hot crimson blood spilled over my new claws.

He dropped the sword. It clattered loudly against the stone floor, sliding away into the shadows beneath the pews.

"You bitch!" he spat, twisting his body wildly to rip his arm away.

I tightened my grip. The bones in his wrist groaned loudly under my fingers. The excruciating torment in my spine vanished completely, swallowed by a dark, intoxicating rush of violence. A low, bubbling laugh tore from my throat.

"Does it hurt, Alpha?" I taunted, tasting copper on my tongue.

"Get her off him!" Serena screamed, finally abandoning her safe spot at the altar.

None of the guards moved. They remained frozen, staring at me with pure terror.

"I said help him!" Serena yelled, shoving the nearest enforcer in the back.

The man stumbled but refused to step closer. "I cannot," he stammered, his teeth chattering. "The aura... it is too heavy. I cannot breathe."

I released Julian's mangled arm and pushed myself off the floor. The torn shreds of my white gown hung uselessly from my rapidly changing body. My muscles felt incredibly dense, packed with a terrifying, foreign power that demanded release.

"Aria," Julian gasped. He clutched his bleeding wrist as he scrambled backward on the floor, kicking his legs like a terrified child to get away from me. "Your eyes."

"What about them?" I asked, tilting my head.

"They are gold," he whispered, his voice trembling.

I did not need a mirror to know what he saw. The familiar dark brown was gone entirely. A heavy, suffocating pressure flooded the room, radiating from my very core. The sheer weight of a Mycenaean progenitor forced the very air out of their lungs, dropping half the pack to their knees in involuntary submission.

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