CHAPTER 4

TAMARA.

"What?" My voice was low. "What are you talking about?"

Something flashed in Atlas's eyes as he took another step closer.

"That morning, I had left him at home. My little brother. He was just fourteen, too young to understand the brutality of war, too innocent to be dragged into the bloodshed that had consumed our packs."

"When news arrived that Moonlight Pack warriors were attacking our borders, I had gathered my men and prepared to leave immediately. My brother had followed me to the door, asking when I would return."

He shook his head and let out a humourless chuckle.

"I remembered the way he had looked at me, his eyes bright with the kind of trust only a child could have for someone he believed would always protect him.

'Stay inside,' I had told him, resting a hand on his head. 'Whatever happens today, don't leave this house. Do you understand?'

He had nodded."

"I should have known that would be the last time I would see my brother alive.

By the time we reached the border, the fighting had already begun. Our warriors were struggling to hold their positions, and the enemy had advanced farther than anyone had anticipated."

I didn't like where this was going. Still, I continued to listen.

"I was barking orders when I heard someone scream my name," Atlas continued.

"I turned.

Two Moonlight warriors were dragging someone through the mud.

For a moment, I couldn't understand what I was seeing. Then the figure lifted his head, and the world seemed to stop turning.

'Castor.'

My brother.

His hands were tied behind his back, his clothes were torn, and blood streaked his face. He struggled against the warriors holding him, desperately trying to free himself."

I shook my head. "No."

But Atlas ignored me and continued.

"His voice broke through the thunder as he called for me.

I abandoned my position and ran toward him.

The warriors around me turned, but Moonlight Pack warriors had already formed a barrier between us. I fought my way through them, cutting down anyone who stood in my path, but they kept moving my brother farther away from me.

Then I saw him.

Valentine."

By now, my heart was beating against my chest so hard that it felt like it might burst out of my ribcage.

"He stood beneath the rain, watching me approach with a coldness that made my blood run still," Atlas continued. "His expression held no anger, no hesitation, and certainly no mercy.

Only satisfaction.

I called to him. I told him that if he wanted me, he could come and face me himself. There was no need to drag my brother into it.

He tilted his head slightly, as though considering my words."

"And then, you know what he said to me?" Atlas asked.

I didn't respond. He continued anyway.

"He told me that I should have thought about that before standing against him.

And then he turned toward the warriors holding Castor.

I understood what he intended a second too late.

I charged forward, fighting with everything I had, but his warriors restrained me. Someone struck me from behind, forcing me to my knees in the mud. I struggled, but their numbers overwhelmed me.

My brother was dragged before Valentine, crying.

Not the loud, fearless cries of a child throwing a tantrum, but the terrified sobs of someone who had finally realized that nobody was coming to save him."

By now, there was nothing I could do to stop the tears springing to my eyes as I listened.

"For one brief moment, Valentine looked at him. Then he drew his blade," Atlas continued.

"I watched Valentine seize the boy by his hair and pull his head back. My brother's frightened eyes found mine across the muddy ground one last time.

My name was the last thing that left his mouth before Valentine slit his throat right in front of me."

My hands flew up to cover my mouth as a tear finally rolled down my cheek.

"I watched as his body crumpled to the ground, and the rain swallowed the blood spilling beneath him," Atlas continued.

"I don't remember how I broke free. I don't remember whose bones I crushed or whose blood covered my hands as I fought my way toward him. All I remember is falling beside my brother and gathering his lifeless body into my arms.

I pressed my hands against his throat, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, even though I knew he was already gone."

His eyes stared emptily into space, almost as if he were reliving the memory all over again.

"He had trusted me to protect him," he said.

"And I had failed.

Across the battlefield, Valentine watched me grieve. Then he turned away and disappeared into the chaos, leaving me with the broken body of my fourteen-year-old brother.

That was the moment my hatred was born."

He took another step closer.

"Not because Valentine had defeated my warriors. Not because he had claimed our territory or taken the lives of men who had chosen to fight.

But because he had deliberately murdered an innocent boy who had never raised a weapon against him, simply to hurt me.

He had taken my brother because he knew that killing him would leave a wound no victory could ever heal."

"As I held my brother beneath the storm, I made a promise over his blood.

If Valentine ever crossed my path again, I would make him pay for what he had done.

I would take from him everything he loved, everything he cherished, and everything he believed made him untouchable.

I would make him understand what it meant to lose someone innocent to another man's cruelty. I would give him a fate worse than death.

But I never got the chance." He paused.

"Valentine died before I could collect what I was owed.

But that hatred had remained inside me with nowhere to go."

He took another step closer, then raised his hand and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"Now, somehow, Valentine has left me something. His widow. His beloved mate."

He stared coldly into my eyes, and I could see the rage burning behind them.

"And this time, I intend to collect in full."

By now, the tears were falling freely.

"You called me a devil," Atlas said, then chuckled coldly. "You have not seen the least of the hell I have in store for you, Tamara. Brace yourself."

I shook my head.

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't."

His answer was immediate.

I looked away.

Maybe I should have asked more questions.

Maybe I should have noticed things I had ignored.

But I couldn't confess to something I hadn't known.

Atlas stepped back and looked at me.

"Undress."

I looked at him.

"Wha-what?"

"Get out of those clothes, Tamara."

My heartbeat picked up.

"Atlas—"

Before I could finish speaking, he turned and walked toward the closet.

He opened it and pulled out a robe before walking back and throwing it onto the bed.

"I told you I do not want anything that smells like that rotten bastard anywhere near my territory."

"Change."

Then, without another word, he walked toward the bathroom.

I remained where I was.

I looked down at the clothes I was wearing.

They suddenly felt like another reminder of the mess I was in.

Atlas disappeared into the bathroom.

I slowly changed out of the dress and reached for the robe.

Just then, the bathroom door opened.

I turned quickly.

Atlas stood in the doorway.

But he wasn't looking at my face.

His eyes were fixed on my back.

It took me a moment to realise what he was looking at.

My eyes widened, and I instinctively pulled the robe closer.

My scars.

For years, I had learned to ignore people's stares. I had grown used to the questions, the whispers, and the uncomfortable silence that followed whenever someone saw the scars.

But standing there in front of Atlas felt different.

I didn't know why.

Perhaps because it made my humiliation feel even worse than it already was.

He said nothing.

There was no disgust on his face.

No pity, either.

Just a strange silence.

Then he turned around and walked out without a word.

The door closed behind him, and I released a breath I hadn't realised I was holding.

I quickly put on the robe and went into the bathroom.

I splashed cold water onto my face and stared at myself in the mirror.

My heart was beating too fast.

I didn't know what to make of Atlas.

I didn't know what to make of this marriage.

And I certainly didn't know how I was supposed to survive living under the same roof as a man who hated me because of the man I was once mated to.

A knock sounded on the bathroom door, and I jumped.

I opened it slowly and found a female servant standing outside.

She bowed.

"The Alpha sent me to help you get ready and escort you downstairs."

"Downstairs?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"For what?" I asked.

The servant lowered her eyes.

"I wasn't told."

The dining hall was already crowded when I entered. My eyes found Atlas sitting at the head of the table. A servant walked toward him and bowed.

"The sheets in your room have been changed, my Alpha, just as you requested."

I frowned. His room?

Didn't he say the room I had just left was his? Why would he lie?

Atlas waved the servant away, then his eyes found me.

Conversation filled the room, but the moment Atlas stood up, the noise gradually faded.

Every face turned toward us.

I felt dozens of eyes on me.

"This is Tamara," Atlas announced. "My mate."

The word echoed through the room.

My mate.

I lowered my eyes.

Several people began whispering.

Some looked curious.

Others didn't bother hiding their dislike.

Some laughed openly as their eyes took me in.

One of the warriors leaned back in his chair with a smirk.

"So this is Valentine's widow."

A few men laughed.

Another warrior looked me over.

"Looks like the dead Alpha left his woman behind for our Alpha to claim. Isn't that thoughtful of him?"

My stomach twisted.

I glanced at Atlas.

I expected him to ignore the comment.

Instead, his face hardened.

"Enough."

The room went silent.

The warrior's smile disappeared.

Atlas looked directly at him.

"You will not speak about my mate in my presence. Am I understood?"

His voice was calm, but there was something dangerous beneath it.

The warrior lowered his head.

"Yes, Alpha."

I didn't know what unsettled me more—the man's words or Atlas's reaction.

He wasn't defending me because he suddenly cared about my feelings.

There was no tenderness in his expression.

He simply wouldn't allow one of his warriors to cross a line in front of him.

Still, the attention around the table became unbearable.

The men kept looking at me.

I felt like prey surrounded by wolves.

I couldn't breathe properly.

I pushed my chair back.

"Excuse me."

I stood before anyone could stop me and hurried out of the dining hall.

I made it only a few steps into the hallway before I heard footsteps behind me.

I knew who it was.

I tried to walk faster, but Atlas reached me, caught my arm, and spun me around.

My back hit the wall.

I gasped as he pinned me to it.

"What was that back there?"