Crown and Shackles: The Princes Mate (Story Updated)

The Hunt Begins

I woke up in complete darkness, pain burning through my body-a sharp reminder that I was still alive. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the pitch-black room. I tried to ignore the strange, stinging heat on my back as I sat up, my head pounding fiercely.

I called out for Logan, but silence was my only answer. Where was I? Where was he? A flicker of fear tried to creep in, but I pushed it away. Logan wouldn't abandon me. He wouldn't.

As my eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, I finally saw it - the prison cell was made of silver. It didn't kill me, but it burned my skin like a relentless fire. I gasped, standing shakily to check my injuries. My bare feet burned, but it was better than my whole body on fire. Then, in one corner, I spotted a small patch of plain concrete - no silver, no burning. It was a tiny sanctuary amid this nightmare.

Tears pricked my eyes-not for the burns or the pain in my still-healing leg-but because my wolf had gone quiet, and I missed Logan more than I could say. Where was he? Was he searching for me? Did he care that the vampires had taken me?

"No," my wolf growled softly inside me. "Our mate would never leave us."

I held onto that truth with everything I had. Logan's coming. He has to. I hugged my knees tight, sending him every ounce of hope I had left. Please come soon, I thought. I'm waiting.

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Sam's POV

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"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST HER SCENT?!"
Logan's voice exploded like a thunderclap through the walls, shaking the pack house with its fury.

Ally had been missing for two days. Two long, agonizing days since her scent vanished. Since the bond between her and Logan-the one forged by fate itself-began to dim.

For anyone else, it might just be heartbreak. But this was different.

Ally was Logan's mate. His fated mate.

Their bond wasn't just emotional-it was spiritual, primal. It tied them together in ways deeper than blood. And when a bond like that goes silent, it means one of two things: extreme danger... or death.

Logan hadn't rested. He'd pushed the entire pack into overdrive, sent trackers into vampire territory, risked war. And sure enough, war came knocking.

The vampire royals arrived in full force, their guards hissing accusations the second they stepped onto neutral land.

"YOU BROKE THE TREATY!" they shouted, fangs bared.

Logan didn't flinch. "You took my mate. You think I care about your treaties?"

The room had gone cold then. And when the fighting started, Logan didn't hesitate.

He tore through them with a fury I'd never seen before. He wasn't just an alpha in that moment-he was a force of nature. Unstoppable. Terrifying.

And when it was over, the vampires were the ones groveling.

Turned out, one of their own had broken the treaty first-dabbling in forbidden blood magic and trafficking. They hadn't known. Or maybe they had, and they just didn't care until Logan made them.

Now the vampires were "assisting" in the search, out of shame more than duty. But Logan didn't forgive, and he definitely didn't forget.

"If you find anything," he told them, voice like steel, "you come to me. If you find them-the ones who took her-you don't touch them. They're mine."

He meant every word. Ally wasn't just a Luna in title-she was the heart of our pack. And the moon had chosen her for Logan. That kind of bond can't be made, only found. And if it breaks? So does everything else.