Chapter 5

Rael’s POV 

Zara Monroe, the stubborn and sharp-tongued human, has been in my territory for over three months. Three months since she clawed her way out of a grave and into my world like a prophecy I didn’t ask for.

Zara Monroe was beautiful in a way that made my patience bleed. She moved through my halls like she didn’t owe her life to me. She disobeyed every order I gave, except the one that kept her still breathing. She was healing now, eating and managing to walk.

She avoided me like I was the villain in her story, and I didn’t give a fuck if I was. But villains don’t keep girls alive. Villains don’t stop their hands from touching soft skin when temptation lies half-naked on their bed like an invitation to sin.

I was Alpha of the Bloodfang. The most feared werewolf this land had known. I’ve slit throats for less and burned down towns. I killed my own father with my own hands for letting my mother die, his cowardice sentenced her to a rival pack’s torture. I made sure her killers didn’t live to tell the tale, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to touch Zara. Not until she gave herself willingly.

Even if I wanted to rip Ethan’s heart out, even if I dreamed of dragging Jade and Mara through their own graves. I waited, but my patience wasn’t eternal.

Tonight was the night.

I sent Olivia with instructions: dress her, prepare her. The Luna ceremony would be held under moonlight, sacred and silent, and witnessed by my people.

I expected resistance, but I didn’t expect this.

When I opened her door, I didn’t see a woman in silk or lace.

I saw her sprawled across the bed in nothing but a thin tank top and black shorts, her legs crossed, popcorn in a bowl, a movie flickering on the screen. Some stupid rom-com with a predictable plot and two humans pretending they understood love.

She looked up at me with zero guilt.

“Oh,” she said, like I was the one interrupting her plans.

My wolf surged at her scent; I looked hungrily at her bare skin.

“Where’s the gown?” I asked, voice sharp.

She blinked slowly. “I didn’t like it.”

“I gave you hours.”

She shrugged. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“You agreed.”

“I didn’t know when.”

I stepped forward. My vision was tinged red.

“You don’t get to choose when,” I growled. “You made your deal.”

She stood up, arms folded. “I begged you for justice. You said marriage or death. That’s not a choice, that’s blackmail.”

“Call it survival.”

“You think I want to marry you?”

“No,” I said. “But you will.”

“Why the hell do you care, Rael?” she snapped. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough.”

A knock interrupted us. 

Beta Thorne stepped into the room without waiting.

“Alpha,” he said with a nod, eyes flicking briefly to Zara. “The guests are ready. The priest is waiting.”

“She’s not,” I muttered.

Thorne raised a brow. “Then make her.”

I turned back to Zara, my jaw tightening.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I said quietly.

“So are you,” she bit back. “You want a Luna? Find someone who wants this.”

I crossed the room in one step. Her eyes widened as I grabbed her waist, lifted her, and turned her toward the vanity. My hand grabbed the discarded midnight silk gown, and I dressed her without care. It was rough, fast, and final.

Her breath hitched as my fingers brushed her skin, pulling the gown over her curves.

“You bastard,” she hissed, cheeks flushed.

“You think this is cruel?” I whispered. “Try being dead. Try being mine.”

She slapped me. I let her, then I caught her wrist, pulling her towards the door, and kicked it open. Thorne stepped back.

“Should I alert the elders?”

“She’ll be there,” I said darkly. “One way or another.”

Zara stumbled in bare feet, digging her nails into my skin. I didn’t flinch.

“Let me go, Rael, don’t do this.”

“You think you can run?” I growled. “Where would you go, little human? They buried you.”

The doors ahead opened. I could hear gasps and murmurs as the people bowed.

The Luna was arriving. When Zara saw them, the torches, the robes, the wolf symbols etched into the stone she froze.

“Please,” she whispered. “This is too much.”

I turned to her, softer this time.

“You can walk beside me… or I can drag you.”

She didn’t answer. I leaned close, brushing her temple.

“You made a promise,” I said. “You asked me for revenge.”

“And you said no.”

“I said that’s not my concern.”

She swallowed hard, looking at me with wet eyes.

“If I go through with this…, will you help me make them suffer?”

A pause. Then I said, “Yes.”

She blinked. “You mean it?”

“No,” I said, my mouth twitching. “But you have no choice.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “I hate you.”

“I can live with that.”

“I’ll never love you.”

“I’m not asking for love.”

“What then?”

“Loyalty.”

Thorne cleared his throat. “Alpha. It’s time.”

She didn’t fight after that. Not when the high priest began chanting. Not when the moon turned blood-red. Not when our palms were sliced open and bound with cloth.

Zara stood there, silent and focused.

My Luna.

As the crowd erupted into howls and celebration, I leaned close.

“You survived death, Zara,” I murmured.

She looked up at me, eyes full of ash and defiance.

“I did.”

“Then survive me.”