I'LL TEAR THE SOUTHERN PACK APART ONE DAY

CHAPTER 004

I'LL TEAR THE SOUTHERN PACK APART ONE DAY

GARRIK

I already felt something terribly wrong the moment those agonising silver chains were removed.

Those Northern assholes have locked me up for so long and used every means to force my surrender.

Why suddenly move me into a clean room and set me free?

As if to mock my sudden release, soon a familiar figure entered the room, a Northern She-wolf who instantly started to force herself on me. Disgusting hoe!

It’s Vera. I know who she is. I’ve seen her around the main hall, spreading her legs for half the warriors the times I was tied to watch their immoral activities as torture.

The thought of that filthy bitch putting her dirty hands on my skin makes my stomach turn. If Alpha Varg thinks he can use a worn-out whore to break my pride and trap me in the North, he’s out of his fucking mind.

When she lunges across the bed and presses her heavy

weight onto me, I slam my hands around her throat and squeeze with everything I have, ignoring the tearing pain as my cuts reopen and blood drenches the sheets. I'd rather bleed to death right here than let her touch me and have my seed.

The door slams open again, and Willa rushes in.

I feel a brief wave of relief when she yanks Vera off me and threatens her. But as soon as Vera storms out, reality hits me like a fist to the jaw.

I already guessed Alpha Varg's sick little plan the moment Willa stepped through that doorway with a glass bottle in her hand.

The King wants to shackle me with a woman. He wants to force a Northern female into my bed, make me get her pregnant, and use a child as a leash to keep me bound to the North forever.

It’s fucking laughable. Northern females are nothing but brainless tools for male wolves' pleasure, passed around from one warrior to the next like scraps of meat.

The mere thought of one touching me makes my blood boil with pure hatred.

"And what about you?" I sneer at her, glaring at the dark bottle in her hand. "Did you come in the middle of the night for the same purpose as Vera? Are you here to fuck me too, Willa?"

I remind her of the month she spent feeding me, giving her a chance to walk out before I lose my mind and snap her neck. But Willa doesn't back down. She stands there, flat-faced and calm, telling me I have no choice.

Before I can even react, she moves.

Damn it—I never expected her to be so strong.

While my head is spinning from the aconite, her hands move like lightning, wrapping an iron chain around my wrists and binding them tight behind my back.

My jaw is forced open next, and before I can bite her fingers off, she pours a bitter, metallic potion straight down my throat.

She drinks the rest, lifts her fur skirt, strips off her undergarments, and sits directly on my lap.

My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache. My pride as an Alpha Prince is being dragged through the dirt, smashed to pieces by a mixed-blood female.

I curse at her, calling her a promiscuous, dirty prostitute, but the potion takes over my veins like liquid fire.

My body betrays me, my cock hardening rapidly against my will as she lines herself up and forces my heavy shaft inside her wet entrance.

A sharp gasp rips from her throat, and she freezes, her fingers digging into my bruised shoulders.

I stare up at her in utter disbelief. She’s tight—so tight it feels like sliding into raw fire.

She's a virgin.

Why the fuck would this foolish woman force herself through sex when she is clearly dry and in pure pain?

Why force me when she doesn't even know what the hell she's doing?

I can't stop myself from mocking her, hurling spat insults at her face to mask the lust burning in my chest…fuck!

Why do I want to plunge deeper into her until she's soaking wet?

But Willa completely ignores every word I say. She squeezes her eyes shut, takes a shaky breath, and begins moving her hips, riding my cock for herself with an awkward, desperate rhythm.

Being forced by a female from an enemy pack feels worse than losing the battle itself. It is the ultimate humiliation.

Yet, as she keeps grinding down on my length, why the hell does it begin to feel good?

Willa is burning hot, tight, and wrapping around my shaft like a velvet glove. It must be the damn bottle she made me drink. The potion has to be the potion messing with my brain.

Otherwise, why am I slowly beginning to enjoy the feeling of her riding me? Why am I thrusting my hips up to meet her?

I hate every single second of it. I hate the way my body reacts; I hate the way my groan escapes my mouth, and I hate her for doing this to me.

I swear to the goddess, I will remember this humiliation. The day I break free and return to the Southern Pack, I will slaughter every fucking wolf in the North, and I'll start with her King.

When she finally finishes, and the heat settles, she climbs off my lap without saying a word.

She doesn't even bother to clean me up. She merely reaches behind my back, unties the rough knot around my wrists, pulls her skirt down, and turns toward the door.

Damn that woman. How can she leave so quickly?

A strange, bitter resentment sparks deep in my chest as I watch her back.

She used me, took what she needed to satisfy her King and her brother, and left me lying here in my own blood and sweat like an empty shell. She didn't even look back at me once before the door clicked shut.

As the quiet settles over the room, a crushing weight of helplessness overwhelms me.

I lie back against the headboard, staring blankly at the dark timber ceiling. In the entire month since my capture, I have tried every single escape method I could think of, and every single one failed miserably.

Silver whips, aconite poison, isolated dungeons—they locked me down tight.

Worse than my own captivity is the fate of my pack. My most loyal commanders and subordinates were captured alongside me on the battlefield, and I have heard nothing of them since.

I don't know if they are being tortured, starved, or already executed.

I can endure physical torture. I can endure this humiliation in bed. But what has happened to my warriors? I can't let them die in Northern chains while I rot in this room.

My jaw sets tight as a realisation hits me.

Willa.

She is the only person who comes near me without a dozen armed guards surrounding the bed. She is the Alpha King's tool, but she is also my only opening.

For now, I will cooperate with her. I will play along with their sick little breeding game and pretend to submit to the Northern Pack. I'll make them think their little plan is working.

Once they let down their guard, I will find my men, tear this pack apart from the inside, and eventually return south where I belong.