CHAPTER TWO

RONAN'S POV

"By you?" she asks again before crying out in pain and stumbling toward Elder Marius for support.

Elder Marius flails like he always does and pushes her away, making her crash onto the hardwood stage.

I glare at him, but that's all my body can do as Raith screams in my head for his mate. I try to ignore the disgust and revulsion blazing in her eyes, but mine refuse to stop drifting back to hers.

I regret saying that word. I shouldn't regret it, all is fair during war but I do for some unknown reason.

We stare at each other for a few seconds before Elder Marius's shocked voice breaks into our tense bubble.

"Ma...mate, you say?" he asks.

I cut him a glare as my nose picks up the first waves of her scent.

Dew. Jasmine. Honey.Jasmine. Something achingly familiar, like a memory.

Everything Misthollow represented. She was everything I had asked Fenrir for, but I could tell she didn't want me.

Behind me, I could hear the pack growing restless.

"Fortunately, Fenrir decides differently," I say loudly. "He has given Lyra to me as my mate and all of Misthollow as mine."

At first, the crowd remains silent, their heads turning toward one another to confirm what they'd heard, then the murmurs begin.

I could hear different variations of the same question fluttering through the air.

“Why the enemy?" 

The growing rumble is cut short when Lyra releases a loud moan disguised as a groan. Raith thrashes within me while the entire courtyard falls silent.

I turn toward her and I'm immediately hit by the scent of wetness, sugar, and something deeply carnal spilling from her. It is, by far, the most maddening scent I have ever known.

Her heat.

A fierce urge to shield her from every unmated male in the courtyard crashes through me.

Yet despite the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the pain twisting across her face, she still looks at me with nothing but hatred.

"Let me go to our mate! She's hurting.” Raith growls.

"She's our enemy.” I grit back.

Viktor jogs toward me, his stride as steady as ever. The moment his eyes land on Lyra, annoyance flashes across his face.

“This must be Fenrir’s curse." He mutters.

I take a slow breath to stop myself from snapping at him.

"I'll call it a blessing. This only confirms that Fenrir wants me to take Misthollow."

He eyes me as though I've lost my mind before sighing. Lyra doubles over again, clutching her lower stomach.

"You should reject the bond. Tell Mari to prepare the ritual and rid yourself of this blemish," Viktor advises.

"I agree with Viktor, my King," Elder Marius says as he approaches, giving lyra a wide berth as though she were a plague.

"I reject this bond!" Lyra screams. Her bound pack members nod in a show of solidarity beside her.

"A mate bond is not a joke," I snap.

I've seen women in their heat before and none of them behaved this way. They weren't lucid or selfless. They only wanted their mate to ease the fire consuming them.

"This one is.” She spits. "A big joke and a horrible curse from Luna.”

"Shut up, girl.” Elder Marius scolds.

"I'll never mate my father's murderer and the one who destroyed Misthollow.” She says further, my anger climbs with every word.

"Alpha, you should grant her wish and reject her immediately," Elder Marius urges. "Besides, you've got something promising going with Seren-"

"Shut up."

The words leave my mouth before I can think better.

Ever since we were pups, we'd been taught that the mate bond was sacred. That once you found your mate, every battle you'd ever fought suddenly made sense because you finally had someone to walk with you.

"She smells disgusting!" Elder Marius blurts before hurrying back toward the audience.

Even the warriors restraining her people begin backing away. Several unmated males quietly leave the crowd.

 Had she not been my mate, their reactions would've been different.

"Have her executed," Viktor says quietly.

"Lock her in the west dungeons," I order.

He doesn't move.

Instead, he studies me as though trying to decide whether I was thinking with my head or somewhere much lower.

One thing I can't help notice was that the scent of her heat doesn't affect him in the slightest. Not even a bead of sweat. After several seconds, he walks over, hauls her roughly to her feet, removes his heavy fur cloak, and wraps it around her.

Raith nearly loses his mind.

He tries dragging her away, but she collapses to her knees again, her forehead bumping gently against the hardwood.

"You're dramatic, aren't you?" Viktor groans before scooping her into his arms.

I ignore the uncomfortable tightness in my chest as I pull my cloak tighter around myself and follow from a distance.

Warriors whistle and cheer as Viktor passes. Some tease him for finally finding himself a woman. While those who know the truth quickly silence them.

I wait outside the dungeon entrance, refusing to find out exactly where he kept her.

When Viktor finally re-emerges, he smells like her.

"I smell like shit," he growls. "That'll make the elders very happy." He says, nodding at the dungeon.

We stand in silence for several moments before Viktor scrubs a hand down his face. "Spit it out, Ronan. I know you better than anyone."

I sigh before giving him a tired half-smile. "Send warm blankets. Lots of blankets. Herbs...food. And build her a fire."

He snorts.

"Something tells me if I build her a fire, she'll burn the entire dungeon down with herself in it just to escape this bond with you."

He shakes his head.

"But don't worry. I'll make sure she stays warm. Now, go deal with the council. I'm sure they're already waiting."

I give the dungeon one last look before I head back toward the pack grounds.