CHAPTER TWO: HIS TO CLAIM

The mattress dipped under his weight, and the air in the room shifted, becoming thick and suffocating. My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

My wolf whimpered, tucking her tail between her legs. Submit. Please, just submit.

Rider hovered over me. Up close, he was even more devastating. The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the dark stubble on his jaw. 

He smelled like a storm about to break—ozone, rain, and that dark, woodsy scent that made my head spin.

He placed a hand on my waist to pull me closer.

The moment his hand touched my waist, a strange heat shot through me. Rider stiffened like he felt it too.

Rider hissed, jerking his hand back as if he’d been burned. He stared at his palm, then at me, his gray eyes narrowing into slits.

"What did you do?" he growled.

I propped myself up on my elbows, shaking. "I... I didn't do anything."

He leaned in again, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply near my neck. I held my breath, praying, hoping that his wolf would scream the truth at him. 

Rider’s eyes flashed gold—his wolf was surfacing. For a moment, the cruelty on his face softened into something like confusion. His hand reached out again, trembling slightly, hovering over my cheek.

"Your smell..." he murmured, his voice losing its hard edge. "What did you put on your skin?."

My heart dropped. "Rider?"

The sound of his name on my lips seemed to snap him out of the trance. The gold vanished from his irises, replaced by cold, steel gray. He stood up abruptly, backing away from the bed as if I were a venomous snake.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, looking furious. "You’re using a scent blocker? Or some kind of pheromone enhancer?"

"What?" I sat up, clutching the silk sheet to my chest. "No! I’m not using anything. It’s just me."

"Liar," he spat. "No Omega smells like that. You’re trying to manipulate me."

He paced the room, his agitation growing. The air crackled with his Alpha aura, making it hard for me to breathe. He was fighting it. He was fighting it with every ounce of his stubborn will, rationalizing it away as a trick.

"I’m not manipulating you," I whispered, tears pricking my eyes. "If you would just look—"

"Silence!"

The Command slammed into me, sealing my lips shut.

Rider walked to the door, buttoning his shirt with jerky, angry movements. "I don't know what kind of game you or your stepfather are playing, hoping to seduce a King, but it won't work. My wolf is agitated. I won't bed you tonight."

He grabbed the door handle, then looked back at me over his shoulder. The look of disgust on his face cut deeper than any knife.

"The doctor will re-examine you in the morning. If I find out you’ve drugged yourself to appeal to me, I’ll throw you in the dungeons."

The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.

I was alone.

I curled into a ball on the massive bed, burying my face in the pillows that still smelled like him. My wolf was howling in grief, scratching at the walls of my mind.

He rejected us. Why does he hate us so much?

"He doesn't know," I whispered into the dark, trying to convince myself. 

But as I drifted into a restless sleep, I knew the truth. Breaking through Rider Thorne’s walls wasn't going to be a romance. It was going to be a war.

The next morning, the sun was blinding.

I woke up with a headache and a hollow stomach. No one had come to unlock the door. No breakfast. No instructions.

I waited for an hour. Then two. My thirst was becoming unbearable.

Tentatively, I tried the door handle. It turned.

He must have unlocked it remotely, or told someone to do it. I peeked into the hallway. It was empty, lined with expensive art and endless doors. The Alpha King’s pack house was more like a palace, cold and silent.

I needed water.

I followed the faint sound of clattering pans down two flights of stairs until I found the kitchen. It was massive, stainless steel and marble, bustling with Omega staff preparing lunch.

As soon as I walked in, the chatter stopped.

A dozen pairs of eyes turned to me. Some looked curious. Most looked pitying.

"Um, excuse me?" I asked, my voice raspy. "Could I get a glass of water?"

A plump woman in an apron moved to help, but a sharp voice cut through the air like a whip.

"Don't serve her."

The staff froze.

I turned to see a woman leaning against the doorframe of the pantry. She was gorgeous in a terrifying way—tall, with platinum blonde hair and curves that her tight red dress barely contained. Her scent was cloying, like over-sweet perfume covering up something rotten.

This was Lia. I didn't need an introduction to know who she was. The tabloids loved her. The Alpha’s favorite bedwarmer. The one who thought she would be Queen.

Lia pushed off the wall and sauntered toward me, her heels clicking on the tile.

"So," she sneered, looking me up and down with a look of pure loathing. "This is the merchandise."

"I have a name," I said, standing my ground. I might be sold, but I was still a wolf. "It's Bailey."

Lia laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Furniture doesn't get a name, sweetie. You’re a womb with legs. Rider paid for a service. Once you pop out a pup, you’ll be in the trash where you belong."

My hands curled into fists. "Is that what you’re worried about? That the trash might take your spot?"

The kitchen went dead silent. The Omega staff looked terrified.

Lia’s eyes flashed dangerous amber. She stepped into my personal space, her claws lengthening just enough to be a threat. "Listen to me, you little mutt. Rider doesn't do love. And he certainly doesn't do family. He hates you. He told me this morning that your scent makes him sick."

The words landed like a physical blow. Makes him sick.

"He didn't say that," I whispered, my voice wavering.

"Oh, he did," Lia grinned, showing teeth. "He thinks you're repulsive. He’s only going to touch you because he has to. So don't get any ideas about playing Luna. I run this house. And if you step out of line..."

She reached out and shoved me hard.

I wasn't expecting it. I stumbled back, my hip catching the corner of the granite island. Pain shot down my leg, and I gasped, gripping the counter to stay upright.

"Oops," Lia smirked. "Clumsy."

"You have no right," I hissed, my own wolf bristling. "I am the King's guest."

"You are the King's whore!" Lia shrieked. She raised her hand, her claws fully extended, aiming for my face.

I flinched, bracing for the impact, protecting my stomach out of instinct.

"ENOUGH!"

The voice was like a thunderclap.

The pressure in the room dropped instantly, forcing everyone, including Lia, to their knees. The Alpha Command. It was absolute.

I looked up, gasping for air.

Rider stood in the doorway. He was wearing a dark grey suit, immaculate and terrifying. He looked at Lia, who was trembling on the floor, and then his gaze slid to me. He looked at my hip, where a bruise was likely already forming, and his jaw ticked.

He walked into the room, the crowd parting like the Red Sea.

He stopped in front of Lia.

"Rider, baby, I was just—" Lia started, her voice high and pitchy.

"Get up," Rider said coldly.

Lia scrambled to her feet, smirking at me, thinking she had won.

Rider didn't look at her. He kept his eyes on me. They were cold, devoid of warmth, but burning with a dark, possessive fire.

"Did I give you permission to damage my property, Lia?" he asked softly.

Lia’s smirk vanished. "What?"

 "If you scratch her face, or stress her out, she might not conceive.” I don’t like when people touch what’s under my roof. 

He stepped closer to Lia, looming over her. "If you touch her again, I will rip your throat out. Not because I care about her. But because I don't like people breaking my toys."

Lia paled, nodding frantically. "Yes, Alpha. I'm sorry."

"Get out," he barked.

Lia fled. The kitchen staff scurried away, leaving us alone in the vast, cold kitchen.

I stood there, humiliated. He had saved me, but his words hurt more than Lia’s claws ever could. Property. Money. Toy.

Rider turned to me. He didn't ask if I was hurt. He stepped into my space, grabbing my arm and yanking me toward him. I felt the heat spread again, instantaneous and hot. He ignored them, though I saw his pupil dilate.

"And you," he growled, leaning down until his nose brushed mine. "You don't talk back to high-ranking wolves. You don't start fights. You exist to be quiet and useful."

"I didn't start it," I argued, my voice shaking. "I just wanted water."

"Then learn to fetch it without causing a scene," he snapped. He released my arm, pushing me back slightly.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box. He tossed it onto the counter. It slid across the marble and stopped in front of me.

"Put it on," he ordered.

I looked at the box, then at him. "What is it?"

"Insurance," Rider said, checking his watch. "I have a meeting. Wear it. If you take it off, there will be consequences."

He turned on his heel and walked out, leaving his scent lingering heavily in the air.

With trembling fingers, I opened the velvet box.

I gasped.

It wasn't a ring. It wasn't a necklace.

It was a collar.

A thin, diamond-encrusted leather collar with a small tracking device woven into the gems. And hanging from the center was a small silver tag engraved with a single word.

Mine.

My stomach dropped. He didn't just want an heir. He wanted to own me completely.

I looked up at the empty doorway, my hand clutching the cold leather.

"I hate you," I whispered.

But my treacherous heart thumped a different rhythm.