Chapter 2: The Price of a King

The silence in the ballroom didn’t just hang; it suffocated.

I could feel Derek’s heart beating against my back—a steady, rhythmic thrum that felt like a war drum. My skin where he touched me was screaming, the new bond flickering like a live wire under my skin. It wasn't the soft, pull-of-the-moon feeling I’d had with Drail. This was a tidal wave.

Drail looked like he’d been slapped. His face went from a triumphant smirk to a sickly shade of grey. "That’s impossible. Raya is my mate. The bond—"

"The bond was a shadow, Drail," Derek’s voice was smooth, terrifyingly calm. He adjusted his grip on my waist, his thumb hooking into the silk of my dress, dragging me closer until there was no air between us. "You were the beta test. I am the final version. Now, get your hands off the champagne. You’re standing in my house."

"Your house?" Sienna shrieked, her voice cracking the tension. She stepped forward, her eyes wild. "You were exiled! You’re a rogue with a fancy suit!"

Derek didn't even look at her. He looked at the Council Elder, a man named Tate who looked like he’d seen a ghost. "Tate. The blood has been tasted. The mark is set. Is my claim valid?"

Tate looked between the brothers—Drail, sweating and shaking, and Derek, who looked like he could dismantle the room with a glance.

"The blood-bond of a first-born twin..." Tate whispered, his voice trembling. "It supersedes a younger twin’s claim if the mate is shared. By law... Derek is the Alpha-elect."

The room erupted. I didn't stay to hear it. My head was spinning too fast. I pulled away from Derek’s iron grip, my lungs burning for air that wasn't scented with his intoxicating musk.

"Raya!" Drail’s voice called out, but I was already pushing through the heavy velvet curtains toward the terrace.

I didn't make it to the gardens. A hand caught my hair, yanked back with a force that made me cry out. I was spun around and slammed against the cold stone wall of the corridor.

Sienna. Her face was contorted, her pretty features twisted into something ugly and unrecognizable.

"You greedy, selfish bitch!" she hissed, her face inches from mine. "You just couldn't let it go, could you? You couldn't just take the rejection and crawl into a hole and die?"

I tried to push her off, but she leaned her weight into me, her hand pressing against my throat. Not enough to choke me, but enough to humiliate.

"You’re hurting me, Sienna," I choked out, my heart racing. "Let go."

"Hurting you? I’m the victim here!" She let out a jagged, hysterical laugh. "I am pregnant, Raya! I am carrying the heir to this pack, and you come back here with him? A man who kills for sport? You’re trying to steal my baby’s future because your ego is bruised!"

"My ego?" I felt a spark of pure, unadulterated rage. "You slept with my fiancé! You stood there and watched him break my soul in front of everyone we know!"

"Because we’re in love!" she screamed, tears springing to her eyes—fake, practiced tears. "We have something real! You and Drail were just a contract, a duty. And now you’ve gone and sold yourself to a monster just to get back at us. How much did he pay you, Raya? What’s the price for a Tyndall’s dignity these days?"

She stepped back, her hand going to her stomach, her voice dropping to a theatrical sob as she noticed a few guests peeking into the hallway.

"How could you be so cruel?" she wailed, her voice loud enough for the gallery. "I thought we were sisters! I told you I was scared about the baby, and you go and marry his brother to spite me? You want to be Queen so badly you’d ruin an innocent child’s life?"

The whispers started again. She’s right... Raya is being vindictive... Poor Sienna, she’s so stressed...

"I didn't—"

"You’ve always been like this," Sienna spat, her voice a low venomous whisper now that the 'audience' was listening. "Always needing to be the center of attention. Well, guess what? Derek doesn't love you. He’s using you to get the title, and when he’s done, he’ll discard you like the trash you are."

She raised her hand, her palm flat, aimed right for my face. I braced for the impact, closing my eyes.

The blow never came.

Instead, there was a sound of bone hitting bone. A sickening crunch.

I opened my eyes. Derek was there. He hadn't just caught her wrist; he was crushing it. He looked down at Sienna like she was an insect he was debating whether to squash.

"Did you just try to touch what belongs to me?" Derek’s voice was so low it was almost a growl. His eyes were entirely gold now, the pupils slit like a cat's.

"Derek, you’re hurting me!" Sienna shrieked, dropping to her knees as he twisted her arm. "I’m pregnant! Think of the baby!"

"I don't give a damn about what’s in your womb," Derek said, his voice cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins. "If you ever raise a hand to my wife again, I won't just reject you from the pack. I’ll make sure you never walk again. Do you understand me, little girl?"

He let go of her like she was literal garbage. Sienna collapsed onto the floor, sobbing and clutching her wrist.

Drail came skidding around the corner. "Sienna! What did you do to her?"

Derek stepped in front of me, his massive frame acting as a human shield. He didn't say a word. He just stared at Drail. The sheer Alpha pressure coming off him was so intense that Drail actually took a step back, his own wolf cowering.

"Get her out of my sight," Derek commanded. "Before I change my mind about letting you leave this estate alive."

Drail scrambled to pick up Sienna, shooting me one last look of pure hatred before dragging her away.

I stood there, shaking, the adrenaline finally crashing. I felt a pair of large, warm hands settle on my shoulders.

"Look at me," Derek muttered.

I looked up. The tattoos on his neck seemed to pulse in the dim light. He looked lethal, but his touch was surprisingly steady.

"Did she hit you?" he asked, his thumb grazing my jawline.

"No," I whispered. "You stopped her."

"Good." He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his breath warm against my lips. "Because I don't share my property, and I certainly don't let people break it."

The word 'property' should have made me angry. It should have made me pull away. But in the wake of the rejection, his possessiveness felt like an anchor.

"The bond," I said, my voice trembling. "In the ballroom... you said it was real. You said I was fated to the bloodline. Was that a lie? For the Council?"

Derek didn't answer immediately. He leaned in, his nose brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck, right where my pulse was jumping. He took a deep, dragging inhale of my scent.

"You smell like jasmine and lightning, Raya," he groaned, his voice vibrating against my skin.

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. There was something dark there, something hungry and ancient.

"I don't believe in lies," he whispered. "I believe in results. And the result is that you are mine now. By blood, by law, and by the moon."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy, ornate key made of black iron. He pressed it into my palm, his fingers lingering over mine.

"Go to the master suite. Third floor. Don't open the door for anyone but me."

"Where are you going?" I asked, my heart hammering.

"I have a pack to reclaim," he said, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face. "And a brother to finish breaking."

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his sleeve. "Derek?"

He paused, looking back over his shoulder.

"Is it true?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "What she said? That you’re just using me for the title?"

Derek walked back to me, his movement so fast I didn't have time to blink. He pinned me against the wall again, but this time, it wasn't violent. It was heat. Pure, concentrated heat. He grabbed my waist and lifted me, forcing my legs to wrap around his hips.

I gasped, my hands instinctively clutching his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath his suit.

"I am a Montenegro, Raya," he growled, his mouth hovering just a fraction of an inch from mine. "I take what I want. And right now? The title is the least of the things I want to do to you."

He kissed me then. It wasn't like the ballroom kiss. This was raw, tongue-clashing, and desperate. It tasted like whiskey and power. My wolf hummed in a way she never had with Drail—a deep, resonant vibration that felt like coming home.

He pulled away abruptly, his chest heaving.

"Go to the room, Raya," he said, his voice strained. "Before I lose my mind and take you right here on the floor."

I nodded, breathless and dazed, and turned to run toward the stairs.

I reached the master suite, my heart thudding against my ribs. I turned the iron key in the lock and pushed the door open.

The room was massive, lit only by the fireplace. But as I stepped inside, I froze.

There, sitting on the edge of the massive four-poster bed, was a man.

He had the same tattoos. The same build. The same storm-grey eyes.

But he wasn't wearing a tuxedo. He was covered in fresh blood, a jagged scar running down his cheek that hadn't been there two minutes ago.

"Finally," the man said, standing up. His voice was identical to Derek’s, but there was a madness in it that Derek didn't have. "I was wondering when he’d bring the bride home."

I backed away, my hand on the door handle. "Derek?"

The man laughed, a dark, chilling sound. He stepped into the firelight, and I saw the second set of cufflinks on the nightstand.

"Derek is downstairs playing King," the man whispered, stalking toward me. "I’m the brother they don't talk about. The one who actually owns the contract you just signed."

He leaned in, whispering in my ear as the door slammed shut behind me.

"Welcome to the family, Raya. I hope you’re good at telling us apart. Because tonight? You’re sleeping with the wrong twin."