Chapter 23
I was following the warrior back to his packhouse when the anxiety started to gnaw at my skin again. My resolve to meet my mate was eroding into a nervous kind of awkwardness.
My heart was pounding so hard in my ears that it was equal to the ferocity of the winds that buffeted our bodies. The warrior in front of me remained firm and fixed, despite being exposed to the turbulent weather, despite the iciness of the air beginning to affect me. In contrast, I was a jumble of massive contradictions.
My wolf was longing for her mate in a way that broke my heart, and I wanted to see Derrick again, but that didn't stop me from struggling with my emotions and the uncertainty I was in.
The Alpha of royalty and the King of wolves was my mate, and he was going to lose interest in me once he realized exactly who I was.
Hatred of witch blood wolves was an ideology, a generational hatred based mostly on nasty stories and scant evidence, for a King of royal blood, a family of wolves that had never been overthrown. Nothing, not even love, could topple such an ideal that had been thrust into their history and sealed with blood.
I laughed, pointing out that magic gave witch blood wolves an unfair advantage over wolves raised without it. After all, removing the strongest piece from the board was always the best way to bring down a system of power.
The witch blood wolves had experienced that fate, and I was about to experience the same. I was outnumbered even with my restored powers, so there was nothing I could do about it.
I knew that staying with him would be fatal for me.
I was never one for optimistic thinking, but maybe if I told him the truth and told him about the magic in my veins, maybe he would forgive me and help keep me as his mate. Even though he hadn't officially claimed me as his, there was too much on the line, and I knew I couldn't allow him to.
The thought of entangling him in something against his will was nearly as horrible as my childhood abuse. I wasn't going to use lies and deceit to subjugate him; I wasn't a manipulator. The issue was that, despite his claims that he couldn't live without me, he would abandon me just as quickly as he had found me and subject me to the death penalty as it was his royal obligation.
I often wished my brother had been here because he would have known what to do, would have made sure I was safe and content, and would have found a way to stay with Derrick so I wouldn't have to face my impending demise.
I was out of breath just thinking about all the chances, all the possibilities, all the inevitable.
The warrior in front of me froze the moment he sensed the wild pounding of my heart in my chest. He turned to face me, his watchful eye following me. A frown took hold of his face and he cocked his head to the side, not understanding why my heart rate had gone up, and I could tell he was considering whether or not to tell his Alpha about it.
He looked at me for a moment, not knowing how to make me feel like a pack member since I hadn't sworn allegiance to them or exposed my neck to their leader's bite.
"How are you, Luna? Your heart beats too quickly. As he asked, a flush spread over my cheeks, revealing to the world my state of embarrassment regarding my body's functions—after all, not many things could make a person's heart race.
"I'm fine." I stumbled over my words. "Just a little nervous." After seemingly considering what I had said for a moment, he turned around and carried on.
His actions nearly made me laugh; he was clearly not very good at consoling others or keeping company. He hadn't even made an attempt to soften my feelings toward his despotic leader. I wasn't a big talker when it came to strangers, much like the warrior who was escorting me, but this was probably one of the few opportunities I would get to ask questions about my mate without him being present. Even knowing this, it took me an embarrassingly long time to summon the confidence to confront the warrior before me.
"What is your name?" I noticed that he paused briefly upon hearing my voice, not anticipating that I would strike up a conversation.
"Gabriel, your highness." The honorific and his naive belief in an unsigned bond made me cringe. What would happen to them if I departed without their Alpha's mark, if they were so ready to view me as their Luna despite my lack of blood ties?
Would it harm them too if I rejected their king?
"How long have you been part of the royal pack?" A simple query that serves as a fantastic icebreaker.
If wolves were from respectable backgrounds, they took great pride in being able to demonstrate that their lineage was pure and untarnished. But wolves like me, on the other hand, usually sidestepped the question completely.
"I was born into this pack and I rose up in the ranks, I recently took over the title of Delta." I readily grasped the pride in his voice as he announced. His words were straightforward, but when I contrasted them with my own pack's experiences, they became incomprehensible.
Titles such as delta and beta were not earned; rather, they were inherited through families.
It was commendable to know that my mate awarded these titles based on merit, but it also made me realize how much I was out of my league.
"I didn't know that those titles could be handed out based on merit, in the pack I come from they were passed down through sons." I noticed the small nod of his head as he acknowledged what I had said. He was aware that it was the customary approach, but the royal pack was anything but customary.
"The Alpha King gives rewards for hard work and motivation, believing that anything is achievable." He feels that having a choice is crucial to building a pack this size because, in his opinion, serving your country is pointless if you are coerced into it; otherwise, it leads to problems and animosity." He hesitated, tilting his head slightly as though he heard something unsettling. My eyes shifted to my surroundings as my instinct urged me to approach him. "He does not force people into servitude, and he takes pride in serving and the service of others." He continued, and my heart seemed to stop its frantic pounding. That's why, aside from the fact that he believed me to be a rogue, he hadn't been at all concerned that I was an omega.
I was told by his warrior that my mate did not take people at face value, but what did that mean for me? Did that imply that I was luring him in some other way besides the mate bond? Was he also telling me that omegas were respected in this pack, that their positions did not make them less of wolves, that they were not spat on, mocked, or punished?
My discussion with his warrior had taken an odd turn; instead of looking for something negative to say about him, something that would make me despise him, all I could find was how respectful, how annoyingly polite, courteous, and considerate he was.
I was not going to have a good ending to this. With each breath, the jagged edges of the darkness that surrounded my heart and the bitterness of hopelessness settled like an immovable rock in my chest.
"And yet he hasn't relinquished his own title based on his own injunctions?" The words, scathing and vindictive, instantly made me regret what I had said and made clear my ulterior motive in speaking with him. However, I couldn't help but feel that if I hadn't been paired with an alpha king, if he had been a regular wolf with the ability to not crush me, my life would have been so much easier.
I saw the warrior's tense body. His shoulders became squared, his demeanor no longer carefree and conversational. His gait softened and he started to move faster and more purposefully. I had insulted not just the ability but also the morality of his Alpha.
I knew he was going to tell me that an Alpha King's rule was not something to be taken lightly.
"You should be careful what you say around these parts, the people of this pack wouldn't think twice before having you punished for treason—we do not take the disrespect of our king lightly." His words were a warning, and I staggered across my body as my pace faltered.
Since my mate and his alpha were the same person, my lack of trust in him meant that I also didn't trust him, which infuriated him.
I was worried about my mate's reaction when he learned that I had witch blood, but I also worried about how quickly his pack would turn against me and take matters into their own hands out of blind loyalty to their ruler. Would they execute me, string me up, or tear me to pieces? My head shivered at the images.
"And you, do you think I am being disrespectful?" As I kept up with his pace, my breath caught.
I was getting tired of this and wanted to know how much longer it was to the packhouse.
The fighter gave a headshake.
"I think you are afraid." He said without hesitation, clearly understanding every word I had said. I had miscalculated his social skills because, once I had him talking, it didn't seem like he would stop. "You were not raised in the ways of your mate, an Alpha and a King. You have heard tales of his wrath and his reign, of the blood on his hands and the packs he has subjugated, but you have no idea of his domesticity, how he settles disputes among the packs, or how he maintains his community. Irrespective of your opinions, he is kind to us. Under the rule of another monarch, our species would perish. He is a good king and leader, fair and just." He spoke with such conviction that I was at a loss for words.
As we walked on, the silence rolled over us. His words were supposed to console me, but instead they seemed to make everything even more unfeasible.
Gabriel halted abruptly after a few minutes and abruptly emerged from the tree cover. As we stepped into a clearing, a strange sensation tore at my sides. My senses were keener than ever; my partner smells pungent and prickly. I felt its warmth radiating down my body, from my head to my toes. It was all-consuming, debilitating, and rife with fury—so much fury that it crawled up my skin and obscured my vision.
I noticed the disturbance a few steps ahead of us, and my eyes darted wildly over the lawn. My pulse quickened as I looked around for my partner, but there were too many people there.
Gabriel had taken me to the training grounds, a clearing populated by fighters huddled around an improvised combat area. Huge and proud, the packhouse was visible from a mile or so away, but I couldn't bring my eyes to focus on it.
I was getting a sick feeling from the chaos of what I was seeing. The sound of battered flesh and the agonizing sounds of pained compliance were audible to me. My mate's strong smell blended with the heavy blood presence, and for an instant I thought I would pass out.
Finally catching sight of him, I saw him in his most imposing form. I felt the panic enveloping me, snaking me, undoing me.
"Luna." I pivoted, my body responding to the sound of the title he had thrown at me. Although I detested how innate and natural it had felt, that was the least of my concerns right now.
My mate was making sounds of destruction, and I couldn't get past the panic that was rising in my chest like a swallowing tide. Gabriel had warned me that this scene would be brutal, and I had believed him, but I hadn't anticipated anything like this.
Giving up their alpha is a privilege for them. We put a lot of effort into training our warriors so they won't be injured for very long. They have made this decision, and they will get over it. They bear every blow, contusion, and injury with dignity and knowledge." I gave him a fierce look. Whatever the situation, I didn't think this was a fair fight.
My friend was mid-transformation and attacking nonstop. His clawed fists struck targets time and time again, making me wince. Disgusting as it was, I could also feel an odd pride beginning to grow inside of me.
My beastly companion was in front of me, radiating strength and power, and every time he brought a warrior to the ground, his wolflike form demonstrated his capacity to keep me safe.
"He's not in control," I said nervously.
He hadn't even registered my presence yet because he was so preoccupied with his brutality.
Gabriel moved a step toward me, and I recoiled in response. Before I ended up broken on the ground below me, I had to find a way to relax. I knew what it was like to fight an unfair battle; I knew what it was like to get hurt, bloody, and disappointed. I would crumble if I didn't take care.
I felt the warrior next to me scrutinizing my erratic movements, so I balled my fists at my sides.
"You have no reason to fear him, you are his mate, our Luna, our queen—you are the only one with the ability to rule over him and the only one with the ability to bring him to his knees." He bowed his head in the direction of the fighters who had detected his arrival. "And I sense you have some responsibility to take for his current state." He arched a brow at my inaction, but really, what was I supposed to do—what in the world was I supposed to do?
I was nothing but a body composed of ruins and indecision in contrast to my mate.
I faced him once more, the sun filtering through the clouds as my eyes locked onto his body. In the afternoon light, his skin appeared golden, but beneath the moon, it had taken on a silvery sheen. His back was broad, wider in this form of hybrid animal-human. His muscles moved freely beneath his skin, standing out against the angle of his shoulder blades. In his half-transformed state, he was significantly taller and much bulkier than in his human form.
I had absolutely no chance against him based solely on physicality.
However, the connection we shared was encircling me like a noose, restricting my blood flow and depriving me of reason. I wanted to flee from him, and I wanted to get closer to him. I desired for him to pierce my skin with his talons, uniting our bodies until I was unable to distinguish between them. I wanted him to pursue me through his domain, to leave his mark on me throughout my body, and to stake a claim against each and every tree on his property.
I had two options in front of me: stay or leave, and both would have the same outcome.