Chapter 3. His Offered Bride

*Blood Moon Pack*

Killian Nightbane—the name alone was enough to strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest Alphas.

At the age of twenty-three, he was the most powerful Alpha Prince in the entire werewolf realm. Deadly handsome, impossibly strong. So feared that even the Alpha leaders of neighboring packs bowed before him without hesitation. It was said that no one dared to look him in the eyes and lived to see the next sunrise.

They didn’t call him “Death” for nothing.

Another warrior collapsed to the ground in the training field, groaning in pain. Killian had defeated him in just three steps—swift, brutal, and effortless. He’d even given the warrior several chances to strike first, to test his skill. But it made no difference. Despite being the best in his academy, the young fighter couldn’t even land two punches.

“Pathetic,” Killian growled in frustration. “Train harder—if you want this pack to remain the strongest.”

Disgusted, he wiped the sweat and dust from his arms and chest, tossing the towel aside carelessly.

That’s when it hit him.

A scent.

A wicked smile curled across Killian’s red, full lips as he took two swift strides, following the intoxicating scent trailing behind the thick tree trunk. With one effortless movement, he snatched the scent’s owner before she could tease him further.

Maya let out a gasp, startled by his sudden appearance—but she couldn’t be blamed. Killian’s speed was faster than a heartbeat, quicker than thought itself.

“Here,” he growled, his deep voice rough with lust as his dark eyes roamed over her naked body. “Hiding from me, little one?”

“If I wanted to hide from you,” Maya purred, arching her back against the tree and dragging a hand through her hair in a deliberately slow, seductive motion, “I wouldn’t have stripped off every piece of clothing and come here, my Alpha.”

Killian’s gaze darkened, his chest rising with a deep, primal breath. “Fuck,” he growled, his voice like gravel, “you could be the death of me, baby.”

With one swift motion, he tore off the boxer shorts he still wore from training, his powerful body already bare except for that last piece. Like all warriors in training, he wore only boxers—to allow freedom, full movement, and the rawness of power during combat.

In the blink of an eye, he was before her, pressing her to the tree and shoving his huge, long cock into her heat.

“Yes! Yes! Alpha, give it to me. Come inside me,” Maya moaned, and her cries drove him crazy. But he knew the consequences of getting her pregnant without marriage— the pup wouldn’t be recognized as his heir and wouldn’t be accepted by the pack.

“Wait for our wedding, baby,” he groaned as he drove into her mercilessly, the way she liked it—hard, rough, and deep. 

She was the only one for him, the woman he would marry and make his Luna. Ever since she had found him lost and fatally wounded by rogues in the dark forest and saved his life, he had sworn to make her his wife, his Luna, and his forever.

“Then mark me, Alpha,” she cried as she reached her orgasm.

Killian’s eyes darkened, and his heartbeat quickened as painful memories surged back — memories of his father, broken and crying out in agony when his mother rejected him after finding her fated mate. She had walked away from both Killian and his father without so much as a backward glance. Killian had witnessed exactly what a mark could destroy, the way it could shatter a wolf beyond repair. From that day, he swore an unbreakable oath: he would never mark his Luna… no matter the cost. 

So Maya’s demand to be marked only fueled his frustration.  He pulled out of her in fury, cumming all over her torso and breasts, jet after jet spurting out of his throbbing dick.

Maya’s tired face showed disappointment, but he ignored her.

“Get dressed and return to the pack house. I have to meet my father for the morning meeting,” he ordered as he shifted into his wolf form and ran away.

After a long run to cool his mind, he returned, took a shower, and got dressed in a button-down shirt and dark denim jeans before heading to meet his father.

He knocked on the door before entering his father’s room. As he stepped inside, he saw his mother, Luna Grace, her father’s second mate, handing a cup of tea on a saucer to his father, Alpha James.

“Alpha. Luna,” he greeted them with a respectful bow. They were his parents, but the honor due to their titles came first. The pack always came first — he had been taught that since childhood.

“Killian, have some tea with me,” Alpha James offered, settling into a chair with one leg crossed over the other in a relaxed manner. He gestured for Killian to sit across from him.

“No, thank you, Father,” Killian replied, then added, “You said you wanted to see me urgently.”

“Yes,” James said, his expression turning serious. “A pact proposal has come from the Night Howl pack.”

Killian’s eyes sharpened with focus as he listened intently.

“They want protection and are offering the Alpha’s younger daughter in return. And you,” his father said pointedly, “need a bride before you can take the throne.”

Killian’s expression darkened with fury.

“You know that’s impossible. I love Maya — I will marry her and claim my inheritance,” he declared ruthlessly.

“That’s not possible. A she wolf with no background cannot be our Luna — the queen of the werewolves. We need royal blood, and this pact is the perfect opportunity,” his father dismissed him coldly.

“Bullshit. Their younger daughter is said to be more fragile than a wolfless, weak omega. She isn’t worthy. I will marry Maya, and that’s final,” Killian said with authority, rising to his feet and striding toward the door.

“What is this nonsense, Killian? I know she saved your life years ago, but we have already compensated her greatly. We gave her shelter in our pack, and she is treated like royalty despite having no background—no knowledge of her former pack or her parents. You can care for her for the rest of her life if you wish, but making her your Luna is madness. You neither remember the face of your savior nor her scent. Just because you opened your eyes and found her sitting beside you, you believed she was the one who saved you? I cannot believe a she-wolf like her could rescue you on her own,” Alpha James argued with his stubborn, love-blinded son.

“For me, it’s her,” Killian declared in his cold alpha voice. “She risked her life to save mine, and I gave her my word. I will not break my promise, Father.”

Alpha James clenched his jaw. He knew his son was rigid — the immense power he held only made him more rebellious. But there were rules to follow, responsibilities to uphold, as a king and leader.

“Then forget about my title and the throne,” Alpha James roared. “I’ll pass my position to your younger brother, Arther, rather than give it to an unfilial son who is too selfish to think about the pack and the realm!”

Killian’s hand froze on the door handle, his body trembling with fury. That title was his—since the day he was born, the entire pack had seen him as their Alpha and addressed him with respect. No one could take that title or his pack away from him.

Slowly, he turned around and growled through clenched teeth, “Fine. You win. I’ll marry whoever you choose for me.”