A DEAL WITH THE TYRANT

DAPHNE

The fire crackled in the hearth, making the room warm.

I stood by the wooden table, holding my arms tightly across my chest. My wet gown stuck to my hips and thighs. In the south, I was always criticized for my size. The pack elders called me a liability, and Tristan had constantly whispered that I needed to eat less if I wanted to stand beside him as Luna. But Malakai was standing a few feet away, watching me with absolute focus. He did not look at me like I was a problem. His dark eyes slowly traced the line of my wet shoulders down to my wide hips, and there was no disgust in his gaze. There was only a heavy, dark hunger.

"You are shivering," Malakai said. His deep voice rumbled through the quiet room, vibrating in my chest.

"I am cold," I said, keeping my chin up. I refused to look weak in front of the Lycan King. My chest still hurt from the broken bond, the phantom agony of Tristan’s rejection clawing at my heart, but the pain was actually less intense when Malakai was close.

"The Northern rain is unforgiving to strangers," Malakai murmured, taking a step toward me. "And your ex-fiancé is a fool for letting you walk through it."

"Tristan is a lot of things," I replied, my voice tight. "A fool is just the beginning."

"Come to the fire," he said.

He walked over to a large wooden chest, pulling out a heavy fur blanket. He stepped close to me—so close that I could feel the incredible heat radiating from his massive body. He placed the blanket gently over my shoulders, his large hands lingering. As he adjusted the heavy fur, his rough fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck.

I gasped. My skin tingled where he touched me, and a sudden, intense wave of warmth went through my body. The aching from the broken bond stopped completely, replaced by a sudden rush of electricity.

Malakai froze. His eyes turned completely black, the Lycan beast inside him instantly waking up at the contact. His breathing became heavy, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at my face.

"Your touch," Malakai whispered, his voice incredibly low and rough. "It quieted the beast instantly."

"It is just a reaction," I said, my heart beating rapidly against my ribs. "My magic... it stabilizes energy."

"No," Malakai said, stepping even closer, forcing me to look up at him. "My wolf wants to claim you right now. He is roaring in my head. He wants your touch against my skin permanently. He does not care about your magic. He cares about you."

"We are not fated, Malakai," I said, my fingers gripping the edges of the blanket tightly. My knuckles turned white. "My bond was broken tonight. I am hurt. I am in no condition to be toyed with by another Alpha."

"Do you think I am playing a game with you, Daphne?" he asked. He reached out, his large, warm hand cup-shaping my jaw. His thumb brushed over my lower lip. His palm was warm and firm against my skin. "Fated bonds do not matter to me. The heavens did not choose you for me, but my wolf has. Tristan wanted a thin, fragile woman he could show off like a trophy to his elders. He was too weak to handle a real woman. I want you, Daphne. I want your weight against me to keep my mind calm when the Lycan rage starts. I want to feel your full figure in my arms every single night."

"Am I just a tool to keep you sane?" I asked, looking directly into his black eyes. "Do you just want me because my touch stops your madness?"

Malakai’s grip on my jaw tightened slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to show his intensity. "No," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "I have met dozens of women with defense magic. None of them made my blood run hot like this. You stood your ground when your pack threw you away. You did not beg Tristan, and you did not cry. You are strong, and I want to help you. Tristan took your home, your designs, and your position. I will help you take them back."

"How?" I asked, my breath catching in my throat as he leaned down, his face inches from mine. "You do not even know me."

"I know enough," Malakai said, speaking close to my ear, his hot breath brushing against my skin. "I have the strongest warriors and the most wealth in this region. The south is poor compared to the North, Daphne. Stay in my home. Help me manage this territory, rebuild my border defense wards, and use my resources. I will give you the power, the gold, and the men. You will make the plans to destroy Tristan's pack, and I will support you while you do it. I will be your shield while you are the sword."

I looked at him, my heart pounding. He was not offering to fight my battles for me or treat me like a delicate damsel in distress. He was giving me the actual power to ruin Tristan myself. He respected my mind, he valued my intelligence, and he wanted me close. The sheer attraction between us was undeniable, a heavy pull that made me want to lean into his chest and let him hold me.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated in my pocket. The harsh sound broke the tension in the room.

I pulled it out with trembling fingers. It was a photo message from Isolde. The screen lit up, showing her and Tristan lying together in the Alpha master bed—the very bed that was supposed to be mine tonight. They were both smiling. Below the picture, she had written: Thanks for the upgrade, cow. Enjoy the ditch.

I stared at the screen. The lingering sadness and the pain of the rejection evaporated instantly. I did not feel sad anymore. I was only filled with a cold, burning anger.

"What is it?" Malakai asked. His jaw tightened when he saw the shift in my expression.

He leaned over my shoulder to look at the screen. As his eyes read the message, a low, savage growl rumbled from his chest, vibrating so hard I could feel it against my own body. His eyes flashed a dangerous, glowing amber.

"Do you want me to send my men to his border tonight?" Malakai snarled, his hand dropping to his side as if he were ready to grab his weapon. "Give me the word, Daphne. I will have my warriors cross the boundary line and tear Tristan's throat out before the sun rises. I will bring you his head."

"No," I said. I locked the phone and placed it face down on the wooden table. "Death is too quick. It is too easy on him. If you kill him now, he dies thinking he won, and his pack will view him as a martyr."

"Then what do you want?" Malakai asked, his eyes locking onto mine, waiting for my command.

"I want him to watch his territory fall apart," I said, my voice cold and steady. "I want him to lose his wealth. I want his borders to crumble because he does not have my defense wards. I want him to lose his reputation, his pack's trust, and every ounce of power he has. And most of all, I want him to know that I am the one who did it. I want him to realize he threw away his goddess for a piece of dust."

A slow, highly dangerous smirk spread across Malakai’s handsome face. He looked at me with pure admiration and savage pride.

"That is my Queen," he murmured.

"I accept the alliance," I said, taking a step back to put a small distance between us, though my skin still craved his warmth. "I will help you manage the north, I will rebuild your defense wards, and I will keep your wolf calm with my touch. But let us be clear: we are partners. I am not your mate, and I am not your lover."

Malakai looked down at me for a long, silent moment. He did not step back. Instead, he reached out and placed his large, heavily tattooed hand on my hip. His grip tightened slightly, his large palm warm and heavy against my skin through the wet fabric of my dress, anchoring me to him.

"Partners," he agreed, his voice low and quiet, sending a shiver down my spine. "I will not force you into anything, Daphne. You are hurting, and you need time to heal from the betrayal. I can respect that."

He leaned in closer, his dark eyes locking onto mine with absolute promise.

"But do not mistake my patience for disinterest," Malakai warned, his voice deep and commanding. "My wolf has already made his decision. He has chosen you, and so have I. I am going to protect you, and I am going to help you destroy Tristan. When you are ready for more than an alliance, I will be right here. I want you, Daphne. I want all of you. But I will never force you to be with me."

He slid his hand from my hip up to the back of my neck, gently tilting my head back so I had to look at him.

"Yet mark my words," he whispered, his eyes burning with a dark, ruthless promise. "Everyone who disrespected you, everyone who made you feel small because of your gorgeous body, I will rain absolute terror on them. You are mine now. And I will worship you like the goddess you really are."