Alpha’s Deal: Be My Mate

Zachary’s POV

Justice.

If there is one person to equate that word? It’s me. Zachary King. The werewolf King.

And I am damn proud of it. The blood of culprits on my hands fill me with a kind of thrill. It may sound insane but I love the sound of their cries, their pleas of mercy as they take their last breath.

It’s bloody peace.

Disposing off those shitty people from the world. Execution is boring, I love torture. Raw, carnal and unrestrained.

However today? It was different. Very different. That thrill, that excitement were dead and I wanted to be anywhere but here.

Yet being the King, I have to sit here, witness this.

See her.

One last time.

The crowd suddenly went rabid, their cries for blood clawing at my ears. And that’s when I knew, she was here.

“Kill him!”
“Monster!”
“Burn him alive!”
“Show his face!”

I sit there, silent, my hands gripping the armrests of my chair so hard I might snap the wood. The noise means nothing.

It’s a distant roar compared to the chaos inside my head as I lift up my head to look up.

Phoenix—no, Eirene—is being dragged forward, a black hood hiding her face from the world. She doesn’t stumble, even though her legs shake, even though her bloodied feet leave a trail behind her. She walks as if the weight of death on her shoulders doesn’t matter.

Defiant. Unbreakable.

Just like I remember her.

Dewdrop.

The name echoes in my mind and I grind my molars.

She’s always been that way, hasn’t she? Even now, on the brink of her execution, she refuses to bend.

I remember it was one of the reasons I fell for her, her bravery, and now?

It looked like a cruel joke.

Of course she had to be brave to fuck around and lie to me.

The Werewolf King.

My stomach twists, an ugly knot tightening with every step she takes toward the platform. It’s not guilt—I refuse to call it that.

Why would I feel guilty when she didn’t feel it while committing the crimes.

No, it’s anger. Resentment.

For falling for someone pathetic like her….

“Zach, it’ll be over soon,” Emerald says softly, her hand brushing my shoulder. The touch of my mate should relax me, warm me but it feels like ice against my skin.

I resist the urge to shrug her off, barely sparing her a glance.

I can’t stand her touch right now. I can’t stand anyone.

My eyes were only locked on her.

One last time Zach. Hold on. You can do this. You have to watch this.

The council begins reading her crimes. Each word is a lash across my chest, though I keep my face cold, impassive.

“For the murder of her parents…”

My jaw tightens.

“For the slaughtering of twenty five civilians including pack members.”

I breathe in through my nose, slow, deliberate.

“For aligning herself with rogues and for the assassination of Alpha Zachary’s brother…”

That one cuts the deepest. I should feel relief. Justice. Satisfaction. My brother’s soul was finding peace after five damn years.

Instead, all I feel is that damned knot in my chest pulling tighter, making it harder to breathe.

Fuck dammit!

I thought I was over these feelings, over her! Why is this happening to me?

“The council hereby, taking into account these heinous acts, sentences Phoenix, the most wanted criminal a merciless death by hanging.”

The crowd erupted again, their fury matching the fire burning in my veins.

And yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She stays still as a statue, all through while they read her sins to the world and sentenced her execution. I expected a flicker of regret, a tinge of humanity but all I see is indifference.

She doesn’t react, not a flinch, not a tremble. It’s like the words don’t even touch her.

Why does she look so calm?

Is she not afraid to die?

What is this woman? And how does she still have the power to affect me like this?

“ Show his face!”

“ Gorge out his eyes!”

“ Murderer!”

“ Monster!”

One of the men yanked the hood covering her face and her bun begins to unravel, strands of dark hair falling free, framing the curve of her jaw.

The crowd went dead silent.

Gasps of disbelief echo.

Phoenix, the most dangerous criminal, was a woman.

Yes.

Thats the truth. The reality I had yet to digest myself.

My eyes drink her in and I hate myself for noticing. For remembering how her soft hair felt tangled in my fingers, how she once looked at me like I was the center of her world.

Then, as if sensing my thoughts, her head tilts slightly, and through the large crowd, I feel her looking at me.

Those soft brown orbs clashing with my cold grey ones.

My heart lurches.

Damn it!

Her gaze—unseen by everyone else—burns through me. It’s the same as it’s always been, full of love she has no right to feel.

I force myself to meet her stare, my jaw clenched so tight it aches. I won’t look away. I won’t let her win.

She is a criminal.

A murderer.

And I am her executor.

A have to deliver justice.

But then suddenly my thoughts seize as her lips curve up into a soft smiles.

It’s faint, barely there, but I see it. That small, haunting smile that used to light up my world now makes me want to tear it apart.

How can she still smile, knowing what she’s done?

My chest tightens, my throat closing in on itself. I can’t breathe. Not here, not with her smiling like that, I can’t look at her anymore.

Damn it!

I stand abruptly, shoving Emerald’s hand off my shoulder. Her voice rises behind me, questioning, but I ignore her.

I need air.

I need space.

I need to fuc*ing breathe.

I get up and storm off, each step heavier than the last, pulling a cigar from my pocket with trembling fingers I grip the barrister behind and turn my back on the execution. The flame from my lighter flickers as I try to steady my hands. I take a long drag, the smoke burning my throat, but it’s better than the suffocating weight in my chest.

She deserves this.

She has to die.

Just a little more.

Hold. Bear it.

I tell myself this over and over again, like a mantra, but it doesn’t help.

Seconds crawl by, each one longer than the last. My mind betrays me, conjuring images of her. Her feet thrashing. Her neck, marked by me, now wrapped in the noose. Her lungs collapsing, gasping for air she’ll never find.

And then… nothing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, inhaling another sharp drag of the cigar. I can’t go back. I can’t look.

But the sound comes anyway.

Thump.

The crowd goes silent. My breath catches.

I don’t want to turn around, but I do.

My eyes lock on her figure lying on the platform, crumpled, motionless.

She’s fallen.

The air leaves my lungs, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. My feet move before I can stop them, closing the distance between us.

And for the first time, as I stand there staring at her frail, broken form, my traitorous heart betrayed me and thumped faster.