The Eternal Moon Mates

01-that-scent

As the sun dipped low, casting a golden glow over the bustling preparations for the Mating Ceremony, my muscles ached with exhaustion. Despite the weariness that seeped into my bones, a flicker of excitement danced through me. Everything was set; the decorations draped in vibrant hues, the air filled with the scent of wildflowers and anticipation. I wiped the sweat from my brow and paused, observing the jubilant expressions of the other she-wolves.

While clutching a hefty bucket of water, a group of women sauntered past, their gowns whispering against the grass. Aria, the Gamma’s daughter with a penchant for cruelty, sneered in my direction. "Look at that slave," she mocked loudly, her voice dripping with disdain. "Carrying such a big bucket while her face is smeared with coal. Disgusting!"

Laughter erupted from her entourage. My heart sank, but I stifled the sharp retort teetering on the tip of my tongue. Today was different; it was my birthday, and perhaps, the day fate would intertwine my path with my mate's.

"Not now, Aria," I murmured to myself, more than anyone, as I attempted to sidestep the group.

But Aria wasn't done. Her hand shot out, fingers entwining cruelly in my hair, yanking me back. "Let me go!" I protested, pain flaring as I fought against her grip.

In a swift motion fueled by years of suppressed anger, I twisted her wrist. She yelped, releasing me instantly. "How dare you!" Aria's face was a mask of shock and fury, one hand flying to her head as if checking for missing strands of hair.

I shook free some strands I had unwittingly clutched, meeting her gaze squarely. "Forgive me, Aria, but I'm not standing for bullying today. I need to prepare for the Mating Ceremony."

Her laughter rang out, hollow and mocking. "You? Attending the Mating Ceremony? You’re practically wolfless, Brianna. You’ll never meet your mate. Good luck finding him."

Each word was a barb, and they stung—reminder of my unique predicament. Being wolfless wasn’t just a rare disgrace; it was a tangible handicap in our world, making the sacred bond of mates nearly impossible to achieve. Yet, hope was a stubborn flame within me.

I squared my shoulders, pushing back against the despair her words intended to sow. "We'll see about that, Aria," I said quietly, more to myself than to her, as I resumed my duties.

Today might be just another day of servitude, or it could be the beginning of something miraculous. As I poured the water into the ceremonial basin, the reflection staring back at me from the surface was determined. Tonight, under the light of the full moon, anything was possible.The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of pine under the moonlit sky as I stepped into the clearing where the Mating Ceremony was held. My heart raced; tonight was not just any night—it was my birthday, and possibly the day I would meet my destiny.

Clad in a daring red dress that whispered promises of boldness with every swish, I scanned the crowd. The ceremony was a pivotal event for us werewolves, a dance of fate choreographed by the moon herself. 

Suddenly, a familiar sneer cut through the hum of excited whispers. "Oh, who do we have here?" Aria stood alone, her usual entourage absent. Her gaze slithered over me, from the high-slit of my dress to the nervous tilt of my chin. "Others might be fooled, Brianna. You do not look like a slave now."

I clenched my fists, feeling the heat rise not just from her words but from the fire within me. "Don’t you have anything better to do, Aria? Perhaps you should start searching for your mate, unless you want to miss this once-in-a-lifetime chance."

The clearing was a blend of shadows and silhouettes, each figure a story yet to unfold. The Mating Ceremony was an annual beacon of hope and heartache, drawing unmated wolves from various packs to one place. This year, it was our turn to host at Haverstone Pack.

"Why would I worry when I know for a fact that my mate is Alpha Arthur?" Aria tossed her hair, her smirk a mask of false confidence.

Alpha Arthur, our pack's leader, was indeed a coveted prize. Earlier, I had glimpsed him conversing intently with another alpha, his presence commanding even from a distance.

"Congratulations, then," I managed, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "I am happy for you." Her eyes narrowed, not expecting civility in my response.

As Aria stalked away, presumably to lay her claim, I turned back to the gathering. The moon was a silent witness overhead, her glow a gentle caress against the chaos of emotions swirling within me. Tonight, I was certain. I would find him, my mate, amidst the whispers of the forest and the longing in my soul."Are you mocking me, Dog Servant?" Aria's voice dripped with scorn. The name stung every time they used it, a cruel nickname that echoed through the hallways of our pack house.

With a strained smile, I replied, "Not at all, Aria. You're overthinking this. Why don't you go find Alpha Arthur? You two seem destined for each other."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh, I will. And just so you know, he is my mate! I won't let him be snatched away by anyone—certainly not by you."

Her words were a blade twisting in my gut. "Feeling threatened by me, are we?" I managed to say, keeping my voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Aria laughed, a harsh sound that filled the space between us. "You? Please, Brianna. No one here wants you. You're practically invisible in our ranks. Plus, your past... well, it's as murky as they come. Not even knowing who your parents were!"

The mention of my family—or the lack thereof—was a low blow. I fought back tears, my voice thick with emotion. "Leave them out of this, Aria."

It was true. I had been found as a child, abandoned, floating down the river that bordered our territory. With no clues to my identity, they had simply named me Brianna Williams.

"Maybe they knew you’d be nothing but trouble. That’s why they left you," she taunted with a vicious smirk.

Seeing red, I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to mar her perfect features. Any violence on my part would see me barred from the Mating Ceremony—an event I had been anxiously awaiting.

"You might think you're cold, Aria, but cruelty suits you better. As for my mate rejecting me—let's revisit that after the ceremony, shall we?" I shot back, my voice icy.

I spun on my heel, leaving her without waiting for a response, and strode away. My heart pounded as I navigated the empty corridors of the pack house, trying to soothe my frayed nerves. The urge to confront her still burned bright within me.

That's when it hit me—a scent so intoxicating it swept away all other thoughts. A blend of my favorite fruits, it pulled me forward, guiding me like a beacon.

My heart skipped a beat as I rounded a corner and stopped dead. There, just ahead, was the unmistakable figure of a man. Even from behind, his presence was commanding. It had to be him—Alpha Arthur.

Without realizing it, I found myself moving towards him, drawn irresistibly to the man who might very well be my destiny.

02-call-me-Thomas

"Alpha Arthur," the words slipped from my lips like a whispered secret, carried away by the evening breeze. My heart pounded in my chest as the gravity of the revelation hit me. Alpha Arthur—of all people, why him?

I stumbled backward, a sense of panic tightening around my lungs, stealing my breath. The very air seemed to freeze, thick with the scent of destiny and pine. Aria had been so certain she'd be chosen as his mate, yet here I stood, invisible chains binding me to a man I hardly knew.

Before I could turn and flee into the shadowed forest, his voice cut through the silence, sharp and commanding. "Slave!" he called out. "Do not run. Face me." Rooted to the spot, I obeyed, my body no longer my own.

Relief washed over me as I realized we were alone. No prying eyes to witness the unfolding drama. No whispers to stain my already tattered reputation further.

"A-Alpha Arthur," I managed, my voice barely above a murmur. "A pleasant evening."

He approached, his solitude evident—no entourage, no lingering admirers. With each step closer, his intoxicating scent overwhelmed my senses, an undeniable confirmation of our connection. His gaze swept over me, a slight curl of amusement playing on his lips. "At first glance, one might not peg you for a slave, given your attire," he observed, his tone unreadable.

I lowered my head slightly, an instinctive gesture to soften his mood. "It is I, your humble servant, Alpha Arthur. Forgive my intrusion. I shall leave you now," I whispered, hoping my submission might ease the tension.

"You are my mate. A slave? Impossible," he stated flatly, his voice echoing in the stillness, a mix of disbelief and irritation. He circled me, his presence enveloping me like a cloak. My heart raced, each beat a loud drum against my chest, resonating with his every word.

How much simpler life would be if destiny had paired me with someone less complicated, less visible—a regular member of the pack. Perhaps then, acceptance would not feel like such an insurmountable barrier.

"I—I am," I stammered, the admission squeezing tight around my heart.

His laugh broke the heavy silence, sharp and mocking. "A slave? Really? Is the Moon Goddess playing some cruel joke tonight? To think I was excited about finding my mate, only to discover it's you, Dog Slave."

His words cut deeper than any physical wound could. I touched my throat, struggling to swallow past the lump forming there, my fingers trembling.

"Forgive me, Alpha Arthur," I breathed out, each word laced with a silent plea for understanding.Under the moon's ghostly glow, the woods of Haverstone whispered secrets of ancient lore. Alpha Arthur, his silhouette hardened by the silvered light, faced Brianna Williams, his voice a cold lash in the night air.

“I, Alpha Arthur of the Haverstone Pack, reject Brianna Williams as my mate. Your very presence in our ranks repulses me. Has witchcraft ensnared my senses, tricked my wolf into recognizing you?” His words sliced through the stillness, cruel and sharp.

Stunned, Brianna’s voice barely rose above a whisper, her plea tinged with desperation. “Alpha Arthur, might you reconsider? I vow to be a loyal mate, to honor and serve you unto my last breath. If it pleases you, I’ll lower myself to any station—even that of a slave. Command me in any manner; I'll obey. Please... do not cast me aside.”

Reaching out, her fingers grazed his, seeking a semblance of warmth. But he recoiled as if scorched, his movements sending her staggering, her balance barely maintained.

Tears welled in her eyes as she caught the revulsion etched on his face. “Hear yourself—how could I ever stand beside a slave as my Luna? We'd be mocked, the laughingstock of every pack,” he spat out the words, turning away with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Leave now, Dog Slave. Vanish before you're seen. This... connection must remain hidden. Should it come to light, expect no mercy. I'll have you confined to the darkest of dungeons.”

With that, he strode into the shadows, leaving her alone with the chill of rejection.

Gathering her shattered resolve, Brianna whispered to the night, “This isn’t the end, Alpha Arthur. You will come to regret this day.”

Pain seared her heart, yet a fiery determination took root. She wouldn’t allow defeat to define her evening. A new resolve crystalized—she would find another who would claim her, mark her, and when the time was right, she would make sure Alpha Arthur saw exactly what he had discarded.As the twilight hues of the Mating Ceremony painted the sky, I stood at the periphery of the dance floor, my heart cloaked in a tapestry of sorrow despite the revelry around me. Tonight was significant, not just for the ceremony but for the declaration I had poised on my lips: *I am accepted, regardless of my past as a slave.*

With a deep breath, I stepped into the whirl of dancers, letting the rhythm guide my movements. My body remembered the grace of dance, a skill that felt like a whisper from another life. Around me, laughter and music swirled, a stark contrast to the silent ache within my chest.

Then, unexpectedly, warmth enveloped my waist. A scent, rich and intoxicating, teased my senses, pulling me back from the edge of my melancholic thoughts. "You are not a slave of the Haverstone Pack now," I reminded myself silently, feeling a spark of something daring and bold ignite within me.

Turning with a flirtatious twist, I met his gaze—a stranger whose presence commanded the space around him. His eyes, a stormy blue, seemed to strip away my defenses, seeing me not as a slave, but simply as a woman.

"You know how to seduce me," his voice rumbled, a sound that seemed to vibrate through my very being.

I couldn't help but respond, a playful smirk dancing on my lips. "Well, you asked for it," I retorted, my voice dripping with a challenge. I pressed closer, our bodies aligning with an electric precision. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin. "Hmmm. Your scent is driving me crazy," he murmured, sending shivers down my spine.

For a moment, I allowed myself to forget the pains of my past, to be lost in the allure of the present. The man before me was undeniably captivating—chiseled cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, and a physique that spoke of strength and wildness. A perfect distraction, perhaps even a perfect mate.

"Close your mouth," he teased gently, his lips hovering perilously close to mine. "But if you want, I can do something about that."

In that instant, surrounded by the magic of the ceremony and the unexpected connection with a stranger, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe tonight, under the spell of the dance and the moonlight, I could truly begin anew—not as a slave, but as a woman desired and free.All I had to do was ask him to mark me. It sounded straightforward enough in my head.

As I stood there, a mere breath away from him, I realized he was alone. No woman clung to his arm, no lingering scents marked his skin. He was unclaimed, just like the forest awaiting its first footprint.

Summoning every ounce of bravery I didn't feel, I managed to stutter out, "I-I want you." The words felt alien, too bold, and I half-wished I had some liquid courage to bolster my resolve.

His reaction was a mix of shock and something unreadable, swiftly masked as he recovered. "Really?" he asked, an eyebrow arching with intrigue.

"Y-yes!" I blurted, more forcefully this time. "My insides are screaming just to be near you."

Time seemed to pause, the earth holding its breath along with me as I gazed up into his eyes. Then, subtly shifting closer, he pressed his lips against mine. My surroundings blurred into insignificance; the only reality was the sensation of his lips moving against mine with a practiced intensity that left me anchored in place, unable to think, unable to move.

"We need a quieter place," he murmured against my lips, barely audible over the pounding of my heart.

Before I knew it, we were secluded in a dim corridor of the pack house, the shadows our only witnesses. His kisses descended like a storm, wild and unrestrained. He taught me the language of lips and touch, his hands drafting expert paths across my skin, igniting fires in places untouched by anyone else. In my naivety, all I could do was follow his lead, learning with a fervor born of raw desire.

"You're so good at this," I gasped out, momentarily breaking our connection to draw breath.

He chuckled, a sound low and husky, filled with a hunger that echoed my own. "It's been ages since I've wanted to kiss someone like this," he confessed as he reclaimed my lips.

In the whirlwind of sensations, I suddenly remembered the purpose behind this fervent exchange. Placing my hands against his solid chest, I pushed back gently. "Wait. What’s your name?"

The lust in his eyes flickered, replaced by a hint of amusement at my flushed expression. Our heavy breathing filled the silence as we both attempted to recover our senses.

"Ah, may I know your name now? I don’t think I can keep kissing a stranger without at least knowing that much. And just so we're clear, I’m not usually this forward," I added hastily.

A smirk played on his lips, transforming his features with a roguish charm. "Thomas," he said simply. "Call me Thomas."

In that corridor, with the echo of our breaths and the promise of new beginnings, I smiled back at him, feeling the first threads of connection weave around us, binding us with the potential of what could be.

03-you-will-mark-me

The name echoed in my mind, vaguely familiar yet elusive. I squinted at him, dredging through my memory, and my brows knitted together in a frown. "Thomas? Which pack are you from?"

He leaned back casually, his voice smooth as silk. "I reside in the kingdom."

His words tangled my thoughts further. The palace housed only the royal family and their closest aides. My curiosity piqued, I couldn't help but probe, laughter tinting my voice. "In the kingdom, you say? What are you then, the king himself?" I took a step back, adjusting my stance, ever wary of prying eyes that thrived on gossip.

His reply was simple, yet it struck like a thunderclap. "I am."

My laughter halted as I stared, longer than I had intended, trying to find any sign of jest in his demeanor. When none came, I threw my head back, laughing heartily. "If you're the king, then surely I must be the Lycan queen!" His face remained impassive, not joining in my mirth.

A chill ran down my spine as he crossed his arms, his gaze piercing through me with an unnerving curiosity. I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper, "Wait. Are you serious? You're actually the king? The alpha king?"

"I am King Thomas," he declared with a regal tilt of his head, "of the Lycan kingdom. I've come to witness the Mating Ceremony and perhaps find my mate among the attendees."

My heart pounded against my chest as his words sank in. "You're lying," I stammered out, disbelief clouding my judgment. The alpha king, here, with me? It was unthinkable.

Memories of my past misdeeds flashed before me, heat creeping up my cheeks. "And if I'm not lying? What then?"

I shook my head, denial my shield against his unsettling claim. "There's no way. No way."

He fixed me with a steady look, his challenge clear. "Look for yourself, woman."

His declaration hung between us, heavy with implications, as I wrestled with the reality unfolding before my very eyes.As I felt his warm hand envelop mine, he gently turned his wrist to reveal a striking tattoo—a wolf adorned with a majestic crown. My heart stopped. That symbol was unmistakable, reserved solely for the alpha king himself, a man so revered that imitating his mark was punishable by death.

Gasping, I stumbled backward, my hand flying to cover my mouth. The alpha king stood before me, and I had just kissed him! "Oh, Moon Goddess," slipped from my lips in a hushed awe.

Compelled by sheer instinct, I dropped to my knees, bowing my head low. "Forgive me for my improper behavior, Your Majesty. I did not know it was you. Your ungrateful servant deserves to be punished for her misconduct."

His voice, calm yet authoritative, broke the silence. "No one recognized me earlier. I masked my scent and assumed another guise. But now, you see me as I truly am—the alpha king. Rise, woman. You did nothing wrong except to halt a kiss I found quite enjoyable. Indeed, you have made my time in this pack memorable."

I hesitated but obeyed, slowly standing up, careful not to further provoke his ire. After all, eighteen years among the pack had taught me that superiors loathed waiting.

"Look me in the eyes. I like the color of your eyes, woman," he commanded softly.

Holding my breath, I lifted my gaze to meet his. "My name is Brianna, Your Majesty. I was named after the river where I was found as an infant. And I am but a slave in this pack," I confessed, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

King Thomas raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity flickering across his face. "I recall you wanted to ask something of me. What was it?"

My heart pounded against my chest, fear mingling with a faint hope. I shook my head quickly, too afraid to voice my desires. "Please forget about it, Your Majesty. It is not important."

He studied me, his gaze piercing. "It seemed significant to you. Speak your mind, Brianna."

Each word was a gamble, and yet, standing before the alpha king, I felt a strange surge of courage. Maybe it was the way he said my name or how he insisted on knowing my thoughts. Whatever it was, I found myself whispering, "Freedom, Your Majesty. I seek freedom—not just for myself, but for all those bound in servitude here."

King Thomas's expression remained unreadable for a long moment, and I feared I had overstepped. But then, surprisingly, his lips curved into a thoughtful smile.The throne room was suffused with a tense silence, broken only by the soft shuffle of my feet against the cold marble floor. King Thomas's gaze was unnerving, piercing through the shadows that clung to the high vaulted ceilings of the chamber. The weight of his stare pressed down on me, urging me to speak.

"Your Majesty," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "I understand this may seem... unconventional." My words hung in the air, thick with hesitation.

King Thomas leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Unconventional doesn't frighten me, Brianna. Continue."

Taking a deep breath, I mustered all the courage I had left. "Please mark me, Your Majesty." The words tumbled out, fraught with vulnerability.

A long, unbearable pause stretched between us. I regretted my boldness, feeling the heat of embarrassment flush my cheeks.

Finally, he broke the silence. "Explain yourself. Why such a request from someone so young and recently of age?"

"My eighteenth birthday was just days ago," I admitted, my voice steadier now. "And yes, I have found my mate. But he rejected me because of my status as a slave."

King Thomas's expression hardened. "Who would discard their mate so callously?"

"Alpha Arthur of Haverstone Pack," I said, the bitterness evident in my tone. "He couldn't see past my bondage."

"And you wish for me to mark you... why?" His question was pointed, laden with curiosity.

The room seemed to close in around me as I confessed, "To prove to him—and perhaps to myself—that I am still worthy of being desired, despite being a slave. Before I knew who you were, Your Majesty, I thought you might be sympathetic to my plight."

King Thomas sat back, his gaze assessing. "And what would I gain from granting such a request?"

My heart pounded fiercely, hope mingling with fear. "Are you... considering it?"

His lips twitched into a half-smile, not unkind. "Perhaps. But we must discuss what you offer in return. This is no small favor, Brianna."

As we delved into the negotiation, the dynamics of power and desire weaving through each word, I felt a flicker of something daring within me—perhaps the first spark of empowerment in a life too often dimmed by servitude.

04-be-my-personal-slave

As the words slipped from my lips, a sharp pang of regret stung me. The idea of an alpha king marking a mere slave was ludicrous, unheard of in any tales or histories. My heart raced as King Thomas fixed his gaze on me once more, his voice steady and commanding.

"What can you offer in return, Brianna?" he pressed. The rules of exchange were clear, even in matters as delicate and rare as marking. "Marking someone is a profound act, not undertaken lightly."

I swallowed hard, my eyes darting to the cold stone floor. "We are not mates, Your Majesty," I murmured, the weight of my own insignificance pressing down upon me. Empty-handed, no riches, no status, I hesitated before whispering, "I-I could offer myself, Your Majesty. Serve you, work alongside your servants..."

His sharp intake of breath cut through the silence. "Your body?" he echoed, an edge of disbelief in his tone.

Flushing with shame, I stammered, "A-a moment of pleasure, perhaps? I—I could learn, if you would teach me."

King Thomas's gaze felt like ice. "I have many waiting at my disposal," he said coldly. "You are inexperienced, and you look so young, Brianna. It would be wrong to take advantage."

Crushed, I bowed my head, feeling smaller than ever. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. I only wished... to find some way to avenge the wrongs done to me here. I've been treated less than dirt," I confessed, my voice faltering as I fought back tears.

Attempting to regain some composure, I lifted my head and offered a weak smile. "It's foolish, isn't it? To show such weakness before the most powerful Lycan in the kingdom."

To my surprise, his expression softened slightly. "I will help you," King Thomas declared suddenly, making my heart leap.

"Really? But, Your Majesty, I have nothing to repay such kindness," I stammered, overwhelmed by his unexpected offer.

"Then serve me personally within these walls," he proposed. "Attend to my needs, and we shall consider your debt paid."

As I nodded, a mix of relief and apprehension filled me, knowing my life was about to change forever under the wing of the alpha king.Brianna's heart hammered in her chest as King Thomas laid out his stark terms. "And during every assassination attempt, you will shield me with your body. How does that sound, Brianna? Can you sacrifice your life for your king?" The gravity of his demand hung heavy in the air, suffocating.

Gasping, Brianna wrestled with the enormity of his request. Dying wasn’t part of her plan—she still yearned for answers about her parents, the ones who had abandoned her to the merciless currents of the river Brianna as an infant. What if she had perished in those treacherous waters?

King Thomas eyed her hesitation with disdain. "You doubt yourself. I see you lack commitment to your own words. Just like a slave," he sneered contemptuously.

Brianna’s gaze hardened as she met his. "I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, but even slaves can lead lives of dignity and honor." Seizing the opening, she ventured, "Since we are negotiating, may I request something in return?"

He gestured dismissively, folding his arms. "Speak now, while I’m inclined to entertain your endless queries."

"Should I agree to this servitude," Brianna began cautiously, "could you also use your resources to locate my parents?"

Raising an eyebrow, King Thomas challenged her, "Do you presume to dictate terms to me, Brianna?"

She bowed slightly, her voice a whisper of desperation. "Not at all, Your Majesty. But as a man of immense power, perhaps you could extend your benevolence to assist a humble servant?"

Gritting her teeth, Brianna awaited his verdict, her heart clinging to a sliver of hope. He was her last chance.

Finally, he nodded. "Agreed. I accept your life in exchange for this favor."

Tears welled in Brianna's eyes, relief mingling with fear. "Truly, Your Majesty?"

"I vow it," he declared solemnly. "I will aid you in finding your parents and support your quest for vengeance against Alpha Arthur. And you?"

"I vow to serve and, if necessary, die for you, Your Majesty."

With the pact sealed, King Thomas turned to leave, but Brianna's anxious voice halted him. "Your Majesty, one last thing…"

He paused, an impatient edge to his tone. "What now?"

"The mark," she murmured, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her dress. The mark of his teeth on her neck would signal to all that she was under his protection, untouchable by any other.

King Thomas considered her, a calculating glint in his eye. "Very well," he conceded, and Brianna braced herself for the pain of his bite, the physical seal of their ominous covenant.In the dimly lit corridor of the grand hall, the echo of my heels was a soft counterpoint to the roaring conversations threading through the air. King Thomas's scent, a mix of pine and distant thunderstorms, clung to me like a second skin. "Later," I whispered, clutching the hem of my dress as thoughts of showing it to Alpha Arthur invaded my mind. He needed to see this—to understand who King Thomas truly was. Oh, how Alpha Arthur would rue the day he dismissed me, and my packmates... they would drown in their envy once they discovered that King Thomas was not my destined mate.

"Listen to your Alpha King," King Thomas's voice broke through my reverie.

"About becoming your personal slave? Alpha Arthur won’t let any slave leave the pack," I retorted, my voice tinged with a mix of defiance and fear.

He smirked, a chilling yet charismatic expression. "Have you forgotten who I am, Brianna?"

My heart skipped. Right. He was the Alpha King. The realization unfurled like a flag in the wind.

He extended his hand, a gesture both commanding and gentle. "Come here, woman. You worry too much. Now that you are my property, I wouldn't allow anyone to treat you like dirt. Everyone here will treat you like the queen you deserve."

A small, uncertain smile flickered on my lips. His words were a balm, yet the tremor in my hand as I placed it in his spoke of my inner turmoil. It was the Alpha King's hand!

His touch was firm as he led me back into the bustling venue, planting a kiss on my neck that sent shivers cascading down my spine.

-------------------------

The crowd's eyes were upon us—or more precisely, upon me beside the Alpha King. Their stares pierced through the festive ambiance, sharp and inquisitive. Most from the pack knew my face, but the visitors' gazes held a different weight.

"Be still, Brianna. Pretend you are loving every bit of their attention," I coached myself silently, feeling the weight of their scrutiny.

Across the room, my gaze collided with Alpha Arthur's. His eyes, dark and stormy, bore into me, but I stood unflinching. Beside King Thomas, I was untouchable. With a defiant wink aimed at Alpha Arthur, I pressed closer to the Alpha King, who merely glanced down with an unreadable expression.

Then, cutting through the murmurs, Alpha Arthur approached with determined strides.

"King Thomas," he began, his voice carrying a mix of respect and disdain, "that woman beside you is our slave. I am afraid you might get filthy because of her."

The room tensed, awaiting King Thomas’s response. His eyes locked on mine for a heartbeat before turning to address Alpha Arthur, the air thick with unspoken threats and histories entwined like the vines on the ancient castle walls.

05-she-will-sleep-with-me

The silence in the grand hall was palpable, a thick tension hanging like a heavy curtain as I stood beside King Thomas, waiting for his response. Alpha Arthur's words had stung, branding me with shame that felt as permanent as ink on skin.

"You say she is filthy?" King Thomas's voice broke the silence, his tone deceptively calm. 

Alpha Arthur, standing tall and imperious, nodded without hesitation. "Yes, Your Highness. A mere omega, lacking even the spirit of a wolf within her—practically human."

I felt the room spin slightly, my heart hammering against my ribs. The mocking glares of my pack members burned into me, their silent agreement with Alpha Arthur's harsh words echoing loudly in the still air.

King Thomas’s gaze shifted to me, his expression unreadable. "This woman, the one you so easily dismiss, stood brave enough to attend the Mating Ceremony while others hid in fear. Do you speak of her?"

Alpha Arthur’s stance stiffened. "Yes, Your Highness. She alone dared to emerge."

"And for that courage, I am grateful," King Thomas continued, his voice rising slightly. "It is why we are graced with each other’s presence tonight."

"But Your Highness," Alpha Arthur protested, taking a step forward, his face contorted with disbelief, "you do not understand—"

"Understand what, Alpha Arthur? That she is a murderer? A thief? A traitor perhaps?" King Thomas’s questions cut through the murmurs of the crowd like a sharp blade.

"No, Majesty. None of those," Alpha Arthur conceded, his voice a reluctant murmur.

"Then I see no reason for concern." King Thomas’s declaration was firm, leaving no room for argument. "She will remain by my side this evening."

The crowd shifted restlessly as Alpha Arthur clenched his fists, his frustration palpable. But before another word could be spoken, King Thomas drew me closer to him. The sudden movement elicited gasps from the crowd, the females looking on with envy, Alpha Arthur with barely concealed rage.

In that moment, under the weight of countless stares and the protective arm of a king, I realized that perhaps, in this hall filled with judgment and scorn, I had found an unexpected ally. The rest of the evening loomed ahead, fraught with potential challenges, but for the first time, I dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, my story was about to change.The grand hall of the Wintermere Castle was ablaze with whispers and the glow of a hundred candles as King Thomas’s voice boomed across the crowded room, slicing through the murmurs like a sword through silk. "Enough! Do not ruin my mood tonight, Alpha Arthur. This woman is my mate, and whoever hurt her will face me." His gaze was a fierce storm sweeping over the assembled werewolves, each one caught in the tempest of his declaration.

Beside him, I stood, my heart pounding in my chest like a frantic drum. This wasn’t how I had envisioned the evening unfolding. The shock must have painted itself across my features because, in response, he gave me a look that was both apologetic and resolute.

"Your Highness, that person is a slave!" Alpha Arthur spat out, his voice thick with disdain.

In a flash, King Thomas’s fist connected with Alpha Arthur’s jaw, sending him staggering back, saved from falling only by the quick reflexes of nearby packmates. "Do you think I care about that?!" King Thomas roared, his fury palpable. "You forced my hand, Arthur. And if you do not hold your tongue, despite my warning, I will end you."

Silence fell. Every werewolf bowed low, including a begrudging Alpha Arthur, fists still clenched at his sides.

"Forgive us, Your Highness," we chorused, a sea of voices unified by fear and respect.

Without warning, King Thomas’s strong hands gripped my shoulders, pulling me close. His eyes searched mine, an unspoken question lingering in his gaze before his lips claimed mine in a kiss that stole the breath from my lungs. As we faced the crowd once more, his arm remained possessively around me.

"This is Brianna Williams of the Haverstone Pack. She will accompany me to my kingdom, and perhaps, she will be your queen. Let it be known that anyone who dares to harm her will face my wrath. Do you understand?"

"We understand, Your Highness," came the reverent reply.

As the evening progressed, the reality of my situation began to sink in. I had come here seeking my destined mate, never imagining it would be the alpha king himself. Doubts swirled in my mind about the consequences of our unexpected pairing. What if it was discovered that we were not true mates?

My former tormentors from the pack now approached with smiles, offering drinks and tentative congratulations, their attitudes transformed by my new status. Yet, amidst this sudden shift, Aria’s skeptical gaze met mine from across the room, reminding me that not everyone was convinced by the king’s bold declarations. The weight of her doubt mingled with my own, leaving me to wonder about the path that lay ahead.As the tension in the air thickened, it seemed like the walls of the grand hallway could hardly contain the brewing storm. King Thomas's voice echoed with a regal yet icy demand that sent shivers down my spine. "Your Highness, we've arranged a room for you if returning to the kingdom displeases you," Alpha Arthur offered, his voice a careful blend of deference and strain.

The bruise adorning his right cheek was hard to miss—a stark reminder of the raw power werewolves possessed. It would heal swiftly, no doubt, thanks to their supernatural resilience, but the mark it left was more than skin deep.

"I wish to retire now. Brianna,” King Thomas commanded without turning to look at me. His voice, firm and expectant, pulled me from my reverie. With a heart pounding against my ribcage, I followed him, trailing behind as Alpha Arthur led the way. Each step felt heavier than the last, laden with an awkward silence that seemed to scream in my ears.

Upon reaching the guest room, Alpha Arthur gestured grandly. “Here is your room, Your Highness.”

King Thomas peered inside, his gaze sweeping across the spacious interior. “Quite spacious indeed.”

“I will summon the servants to attend to your needs,” Alpha Arthur quickly added, perhaps too eagerly.

King Thomas's eyebrows arched menacingly. “Why call upon them when you stand before us, Alpha Arthur?” The question hung heavily in the air, charged with an unspoken challenge.

Stammering, the alpha responded, "I-I can serve you, Your Highness. As the slave of this pack, it is my duty. Just command me, and I will fulfill it to the best of my abilities."

It was then that King Thomas turned to me, his eyes softening just a fraction. “You are my mate, Brianna. I wish to treat you like a queen, never burdened by menial tasks. Soon, you will be the emblem of our kingdom.”

His words were meant to be comforting, yet they only added weight to the role I was to play—a facade that demanded more from me than I had ever imagined. Tears welled up in my eyes as I thought of the additional responsibilities, the potential gossip, and the ridicule that might follow, much like what Alpha Arthur had hinted at earlier.

King Thomas’s next words snapped me back to the present. “What I need now, Alpha Arthur, is some attire for Brianna. She will be staying with me, in this room.” His declaration was clear and absolute, leaving no room for debate.

My face drained of color as his statement sank in. Inside this room, with the king—such proximity was unheard of, and yet, here it was, being laid out as plainly as if it were just another royal decree. The weight of the crown was not just worn on one's head but bore heavily on the heart as well, I realized, as I stood there, caught in the eye of the storm that was royalty.

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