Chapter 3 - The Chase

My legs propel me further into the maze of hedges and plants, my breath tearing at my lungs as I flee from the Alpha chasing me – a man so powerful he could tear me limb from limb with his hands alone -

I hear laughter as he draws near – which just makes me gasp for more air, makes me push harder. But a touch on my back, then a brush of his hand against the bare skin above my dress –

I give a little shriek as I feel him gaining on me, and I drive myself to a final burst of speed –

But it’s a wasted effort. His body slams into mine.

A scream rips from me as I feel myself falling, raising my arms to protect my head, my body going rigid in anticipation –

But the King wraps his arms around me as I fall, twisting in the air so that I land hard his own flesh instead of the sharp gravel of the path.

He’s laughing, then, a cruel, joyful, hungry laugh that reignites my fear. As soon as I realize that I’m unharmed, I rip at the arms that hold me to him, trying to free myself –

“Oh, no,” he scolds, spinning his body over and taking me with him so that my back is pressed into the ground, pinned down with his weight as he lays himself on top of me. Still scrambling to get away, I barely have a moment to think before he slides his steady hand behind my head, bringing my face close to his, pressing his mouth to mine.

I go still, my eyes flying wide in shock as the King’s lips part my own. I gasp, my mouth widening, and – encouraged – the King dips his tongue intently into my mouth, tasting me. The hum that resounds deep within his chest tells me that he likes what he finds. He uses his free hand to bunch up the blue fabric of my dress, sliding his hand up the outside of my calf, dipping below my knee and working towards my thigh.

“No,” I beg, ripping my face from his and finding my voice in my desperation, “No please –“

He laughs against my mouth. “Why wait, wife? I’ll have you in bed soon enough. I’ll take you here under the moon first, where I found you -”

I press my hands against his chest, not really processing his words, just desperate to get out from beneath him. “No – stop – stop –“

I slam my hands against him, then, desperate blows that draw his attention away from his lust.

“You will take me, wife,” the King growls, tightening his grip on the hand behind my neck, forcing me to look him in the eye. “I claim you – you are mine -”

I go rigid at his words, my mouth falling open in disbelief. I am lucky, then, as a slow smile builds on his face as he watches me start to understand.

The King – a claiming –

He has marked me, then – has marked me as the one to be his next bride -

“Yes,” he murmurs, apparently enjoying my shock, perhaps taking it as awe, his hand continuing its slow travel up my thigh. “I remember you, Everleigh de Silva. But you didn’t smell to me then,” his hand is dangerously close now, his fingers brushing against the lacy edges of my undergarments, “as deliciously as you do now.”

My whole body begins to shake then at the thought of it – at the fact that he’s marked me, incontrovertibly, as his bride – his next Luna, his next Queen –

But still – I can’t – god, if he knew my secret – if he ever found out -

“Please,” I beg, my voice desperate, pressing my hands downward over the skirts of my dress to where his fingers linger on my skin. “Please, I can’t –“

He growls, suddenly livid. “You would reject me!?”

“No,” I breathe, knowing that rejecting him – his anger at the insult, his rage – I would be dead in moments. My mind darts, searching for an excuse, any excuse –

“I – I’m a virgin!” I blurt, desperate. “I am the Selene – my father – he would never forgive me –“

To my shock, the King pauses, and then relents, sliding his hand back down along my thigh, loosening a heavy chuckle. He moves away from me a little, taking his weight off of the top half of my body so that I can breathe more easily.

“Well,” he says, fixing me with a heavy, amused gaze. “Apparently, my bride wants a traditional wedding night.” He glances away from me, clenching his jaw in disappointment. “But…as you are young. Yes.”

My breath starts to even out in my relief. But he fixes that perilous gaze on me again, leaning closer to me and drawing a finger down my cheek. “I am excited to continue the chase, little doe,” he murmurs, bringing his face close to mine so that I can feel his breath on my lips. “But in the end, I will take you.”

I don’t move at all as he again presses his lips to mine, a slow and luxurious kiss. It seems to last forever, this exploratory movement of his mouth against mine as he savors me, learns me. His bride.

Then, with effort, he pulls away and raises himself so that he is kneeling on the ground, offering a hand to help me up.

“Come, wife,” he commands, standing and pulling me up with him. “It is time to make the announcement to the court.”