Chapter 12: Lukas

The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with the copper-haired girl who fate had cruelly designated as my mate. She sat across from me, her shoulders hunched beneath the woolen blanket, though her eyes never left mine. The mate bond pulsed between us, new and raw, a connection neither of us had asked for yet could not deny. Ares paced restlessly within me, his possessive instincts warring with my rational mind that still struggled to accept this impossible complication.

Silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken questions. I observed her dispassionately, noting how she made herself smaller in the chair, a defense mechanism no doubt learned during her time as—what? A rogue? A prisoner? Something else entirely?

Her scent told a complex story that contradicted her supposed status: beneath the prison filth lay traces of pack life, of privilege once held and lost, of recent trauma and older wounds never properly healed.

"So you're my mate." I kept my voice flat, a statement rather than a question. The mate bond left no room for uncertainty.

She swallowed, the movement drawing my attention to the delicate curve of her throat. "Apparently so, my King," she replied, her voice soft but not submissive. There was a backbone of steel beneath her fear. Interesting.

‘Claim her,’ Ares demanded. ‘Mark her. Make her ours.’

I ignored him, leaning forward slightly. "What's your story, little luna?"

The title—an acknowledgment of what she would become as my mate—made her shiver visibly. Her fingers clutched the edges of the blanket, knuckles whitening.

"Amelia Blackwood," she began, her gaze dropping for the first time. "I was adopted by the Alpha and Luna of Silver Lake when I was a toddler." Her voice strengthened as she continued, as if the telling gave her purpose. "I didn't shift when I turned sixteen, so they cast me out. I've been... less than a slave for the last two years."

Silver Lake. Marcus Blackwood's territory. I knew him—an adequate Alpha, traditional to a fault, obsessed with bloodlines and pack purity. The pieces began to fall into place.

"Go on," I prompted when she hesitated.

"On my eighteenth birthday, I found my mate." Her voice took on a bitter edge. "He rejected me immediately, and I shifted for the first time. I ran into the forest, and those rogues found me. They knocked me out with wolfsbane darts and..." She paused, a shadow crossing her face. "I nearly was raped by them, then woke up in your cells, where it almost happened again."

Ares snarled, the sound vibrating in my chest. ‘They touched what is ours. They will suffer.’

"When was your birthday?" I asked, controlling the rage that threatened to surface.

"July 17th," she replied. "So what, three days ago?"

I studied her face, noting the genuine confusion in her eyes. "It's the 26th of July, little luna."

She froze, the blood draining from her face as she processed the information. Nine days in captivity, most likely unconscious for the first several due to the wolfsbane. Nine days of starvation, of abuse, of existing in a liminal space between life and death while fate arranged our meeting.

I rose from my chair, circling the desk with deliberate slowness. Her eyes tracked my movement, wary but unflinching. I positioned myself directly in front of her, perching on the edge of the desk, close enough that my knees nearly brushed hers.

"What is so special about you, little luna?" I asked, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as I reached out.

She flinched but didn't pull away when my finger traced the line of her jaw, tilting her head up to meet my gaze. Her skin was soft despite the grime of captivity, her pulse fluttering visibly at her throat.

She snorted, a surprisingly inelegant sound that caught me off guard. "I'm just the slave girl no one wanted."

The words ignited Ares's fury like gasoline thrown on flames. ‘WRONG!’ he howled within me. ‘OURS! WANTED! NEEDED!’ His rage burned through my veins, nearly overwhelming my careful control. That my mate—my queen—would think herself unwanted, unworthy, was an insult he could not bear.

I grasped her chin firmly, turning her face to the side. She stiffened but remained still as I leaned in, running my nose along the column of her neck, inhaling deeply. Beneath the layers of fear and prison grime, her true scent called to me—wildflowers after rain, copper and honey, something wild and untamed that resonated with Ares on a primal level.

‘She is perfect,’ he insisted, pushing against my restraint. ‘Strong enough to survive. Strong enough to rule beside us.’

"Do you know what happens now, Amelia?" I asked against her skin, feeling her shiver as my breath ghosted over the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder—the marking spot, where my teeth would soon claim her as mine.

"You kill me?" she whispered, and I detected a note of hope beneath the fear that made my blood run cold.

Did she prefer death to being mated to me?

I pulled back to look at her face, studying the resignation in her eyes. Not hope for death, I realized, but an expectation of it—a girl who had been abandoned by those meant to protect her, rejected by her first mate, abused and imprisoned. She had learned to expect the worst because that was all life had given her.

"No, little luna," I said, my voice gentling despite myself. "Not death. Life. A new life, by my side."

Her eyes widened, comprehension dawning. “As what? Your... mate? Your queen?" The words seemed to stick in her throat, impossible to fully believe.

"Yes." I traced her lower lip with my thumb, feeling her breath catch. "The question is whether you'll accept this fate willingly, or whether I'll need to... persuade you."

Ares growled his approval of either approach. Willing or unwilling, she was ours. The how of it mattered little to my wolf.

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to where my other hand rested on my thigh, still stained with the blood of those I'd killed in the throne room. The message was clear: this was not truly a choice. I was not a man who accepted refusal.

"What happens if I say no?" she asked, a final test of her limited power.

I smiled, letting her see the predator beneath the king. "You won't."