Chapter 4

~~Fenrir's POV~~

They were like crows, all of them, barking and hungry for blood they had not earned and anger they could not justify. Their filthy excitement was more irritating than the dirt in a sewer.

My boots sounded as I stepped forward, the aura coming off me was unquestionable. They were all staring at me in both disbelief and astonishment.

“Alpha Fenrir?” someone whispered under their breath from amongst the crowd, the fear almost was tantalizing to me.

“Why is he here?”

“Moon Goddess, help us. He’ll take our land.”

“He and his rogues destroy everything. We’re doomed.”

Their panic was visible in the air, I could feel it, sense it, taste it. A man stepped forward, standing on the high stand where an Alpha was supposed to stand and command respect, but even from this distance, I could see his shoulders shaking.

He tried to keep his chin high. Tried to look like an Alpha. But I saw right through him.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” he began, his voice cracking even as he tried to hide it. “I am Damian Woodlock. Alpha of the Moonclaw Pack.”

Alpha. He called himself but even he didn't seem to believe it.

He took a moment to breathe, puffed up his chest, then looked me dead in the eye, hoping to show any form of pride.

“Explain your rude interruption, Fen–” He stopped himself, correcting it. “Alpha Fenrir of the rogue wolves.”

I lifted my chin, looking at him with full dominance as I drew back my sword.

“The news of Alpha Ronin’s death reached my territory,” I told him, letting every word hit with the weight of a hammer. “He was among the few who supported the rogue unification. I came here to pay my respects.”

I paused and turned my face away, letting my gaze settle on her. The one kneeling by my side.

She looked pale, small and crumpled on the ground, there was dirt and blood all over her. Her head was bowed so low I wondered if she even remembered how to stand tall. A pitiful thing in chains, the supposed proud She-Alpha reduced to nothing.

My heart pulsed, an unfamiliar ache that made me grit my teeth.

“So,” I turned back to face him and continued, loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear, “why did I find an unfair execution happening here instead?”

The crowd broke into murmurs. 

Damian scoffed. “Unfair? I see you didn’t hear the full story. That girl,” he pointed dismissively at the frail woman, “the cursed child of the Alpha, killed him. Poisoned him like a coward.”

I looked at her again.

No.

No, that was not the face of a killer. I had seen monsters in my life. Seen wolves with the eyes of butchers. She had nothing but emptiness, and under that, the quiet softness of a broken soul.

I turned back to the pack. “I watched this proceeding from the start,” I said, letting my voice rise. “You called it a trial, yet you cheered for her death without giving her a single chance to speak. You all gathered yourself here to see her bleed before you even asked her to defend herself.”

I fixed my heavy gaze on Damian, and I could see his face twitch. I enjoyed seeing the effect I had on him. 

“How is this justice?” I demanded.

He adjusted himself, glaring at me like a dog who was about to have its bone stolen. “There is no need to hear from her,” he spat. “There were two witnesses. Me and the Alpha’s stepdaughter.”

I scanned the stands, and my eyes landed on the other said witness.

The girl with the brown hair at his side, her smile poison-sweet, her eyes glinting with victory.

I felt the disgust curling through me.

“Interesting,” I said softly. “The only two people who witnessed this crime are the very same two who seem to have benefited the most from Alpha Ronin’s death. One now calls himself Alpha,” I pointed lazily at Damian, “and the other his Luna.”

The entire crowd went still, like rabbits about to bolt.

Damian’s face turned a dark shade of red. “What exactly are you trying to imply, Alpha Fenrir?”

I let my lips curl, all teeth and danger.

“I’m implying,” I said, voice as sharp as a blade, “that if this is truly a trial, then both sides should be allowed to speak.”

He shifted uncomfortably. I could see the fear in his eyes, a prey’s scent that no man could fully hide.

But he couldn’t refuse me. I was Fenrir. I was death made flesh, and even he knew it.

Finally, through gritted teeth, he answered, “Fine. If you wish to hear the words of a killer, then hear them.”

I turned to the girl again.

Imogene.

Her name felt strange on my tongue, like a song I had only half-learned but still remembered the melody.

I crouched to her level on the ground. She wouldn’t even lift her head to look at me, and her tangled hair looked like evidence of her being defeated.

“This is your chance,” I told her, trying to soften my voice, “to speak the truth. Tell these people what really happened.”

Silence.

That made my blood boiled.

“So they accuse you of killing your own father,” I growled, “and you won’t even try to defend yourself?!”

Slowly, painfully slowly, her head rose.

Hazel eyes.

Empty.

Not a spark, not a flicker.

Like a candle drowned in rain.

I felt something crack deep in me.

Damian took this opportunity as an advantage. “See?” he barked. “Even she has nothing to say in her defense. She is guilty, Alpha Fenrir. And if you do not mind, we would like to wrap this up and move on to the burial ceremony of our deceased Alpha.”

He said it like sentencing this girl to death was a casual thing.

I stood, anger surging through my bones.

I would not let this continue.

“Instead of killing her,” I said, my voice cold enough to burn, “sell her to me.”

The entire courtyard went dead silent. For just a brief moment.

Then, like a volcano, they erupted.

“What did he say?”

“He wants to buy a murderer?!”

“A cursed child?”

“Well, he is mad, after all.”

I ignored them.

Damian tried to recover his composure. “Alpha Fenrir, I’m sorry, but—”

The Luna leaned in, whispering something to him. I saw the exact second greed flickered in her eyes, the kind of greed you could practically smell.

He turned back to me, clearing his throat. “How much are you willing to pay?”

They were reducing her to livestock. A piece of property.

I refused to humiliate her any further. I stepped close to him, close enough to smell his cowardice, and whispered the price low so no one else would hear.

“Thirty carriages of gold,” I said.

His jaw nearly hit the floor. “You would pay that much for a killer?”

I didn’t break eye contact. “Deal or no deal?”

Damian swallowed, greed drowning whatever moral compass he’d been trying to play.

“Deal,” he said quickly, and then raised his voice. “The pack bears witness! In exchange for her death, Imogene Howling is sold to Alpha Fenrir to do with as he pleases.”

The people gasped.

As I turned, one of them, a short man with beady eyes, dared to chuckle. “A cursed murderer sold to the mad king. She won’t last a week!”

I crossed the yard in two steps, seized him by the throat, and slammed him to the ground so hard he groaned painfully.

I flashed my teeth. “I hate,” I snarled, “when people speak about what is MINE.”

The crowd shrank back.

I swept my eyes across them, letting them see the burning fire in my eyes.

“From today,” I declared, “Imogene Howling belongs to me. If I hear a breath against her, I will rip out your tongues.”

I let the man go, and he scrambled away like a worm.

Finally, I turned back to Imogene. She was still kneeling, a shell of a woman, chains weighing her down.

Gently, so gently I shocked even myself, I knelt before her and took the iron shackles in one hand. With a twist of my wrist, they broke like sticks.

She flinched at the sound but didn’t move.

Around us, the pack stared in horrified silence, like sheep who had just watched their shepherd be eaten by the wolf.

Let them fear me.

I would take her, and I would keep her.

“Let me take you out of here,” I murmured.

Her head turned, just barely, eyes dull and very fragile.

“Why?” She rasped, her voice was so hoarse from crying. “Why are you doing this?”

I paused, truly looking at her. “Mate!!” My wolf howled in my head and I reeled it in.

There was that feeling of heat in my chest again that I could not name. Something primitive. Something more than just the sensation of her being my mate. A reaffirmation of my initial thoughts about her. 

“You’re special, Imogene,” I told her, and the words were truer than I wanted to admit.

She didn’t understand it yet, but I could see it.

And soon, she would too.

I curled my hand around the nape of her neck, pressing my fingers into her skin. Light steam hissed as my touch burnt her skin, marking her instantly. Claiming her as mine. 

She let out a low hiss, and I raised her up to her feet, my eyes locking into hers. “Come on little bunny, let me take you to your new home.”