The Former Alpha’s Demand

Maya's POV

The creak of the heavy iron bolts being pulled open forced me to blink hard, trying to clear away the thick haze the fever kept hanging over my eyes. Two Blood Moon guards, imposing men clad in leather armor studded with metal, entered my cell without saying a single word. They didn’t drag me like they had the night before; this time, one of them held out a clean, thick gray wool cloak, while the other motioned stiffly with his head for me to stand.

My sturdy legs trembled beneath the weight of my body as I rose from the straw mattress, but I forced myself to keep my back straight. I wasn’t going to let anyone in this palace see me falter, especially not after surviving the greatest humiliation of my life. I draped the cloak over my shoulders, feeling its warmth soothe my burning skin, and walked between the two warriors up the endless spiral stone staircase connecting the punishment cells to the upper levels of the military wing.

When the enormous oak doors of the main office opened, the scent of fresh pine, beeswax, and bitter tobacco confirmed that I was in the Lycan King’s personal territory.

The office was enormous, decorated with tactical maps made of animal hide pinned to the walls and shelves overflowing with ancient scrolls. In the center, behind a colossal desk carved from dark wood, Supreme Alpha Lawrence stood waiting. He wore a black military tunic that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and the rigid strength of his posture. His gray eyes, sharp as steel blades, fixed on me the moment I crossed the threshold, scanning the paleness of my face and the way my wide hips moved heavily with exhaustion.

Lawrence wasn’t alone.

Standing in the middle of the room, trembling ever so slightly beneath the crushing pressure of the King’s aura, was a thin man dressed in the gray uniform of Silver Moon’s messengers. I recognized him immediately. He was one of Hunter’s personal envoys.

“Come closer, Maya,” Lawrence’s deep baritone voice echoed through the office, sending a mystical vibration that made my lower abdomen tense.

I walked forward with steady steps until I stood a few feet from the desk, ignoring the messenger’s look of disgust and surprise when he saw I was still alive. Resting on the dark wooden surface of the desk, beside Lawrence’s enormous hands, lay an unrolled scroll sealed with red wax and the howling wolf crest of my former pack.

“This man crossed my border under a flag of truce to deliver a message from your former Alpha,” Lawrence said, tilting his head slightly, allowing a lock of his dark hair to fall over his gray eyes. “Alpha Hunter claims that you are a useless servant, a rogue who fled in the middle of the night after stealing sacred property from the Silver Moon fortress. He demands that I chain you and return you to his lands immediately so you can receive your punishment for treason.”

A bitter, dry laugh, heavy with old pain, escaped my throat before I could stop it. The messenger stiffened, horrified by my lack of decorum in front of the Lycan King, but I no longer cared.

“Stealing?” I asked, forcing my fever-roughened voice to sound clear and sharp as crystal. “The only things I have with me are the filthy clothes his lover soaked in mud and the silver medallion my own mother left me before she died. Hunter isn’t looking for me because he cares about what I supposedly stole. He’s looking for me because his Alpha pride can’t bear that the fat servant he rejected walked toward freedom with her head held high.”

Lawrence remained silent, but his pupils widened ever so slightly as he heard the certainty in my words. He leaned forward, resting both palms on the desk, allowing his warmth and commanding scent to fill the space between us. The sexual tension in the air became so thick that the messenger in the background seemed to disappear from our entire universe.

“Is that true, envoy?” Lawrence asked, slowly turning his gray gaze toward the trembling man with a deliberateness that was terrifying.

“My Alpha does not lie, Supreme Alpha!” the messenger stammered, swallowing hard. “That woman is a defective rogue, a thief. If the Blood Moon Pack keeps her, it will be considered a direct act of hostility against our territory. We demand that you hand her over immediately.”

Lawrence let out a low snort, a sound that resembled the growl of a wild beast more than that of a rational man. He extended his right hand, picked up Hunter’s scroll with his long fingers, and, without taking his gray eyes off mine, held it directly over the flame of the candle burning on his desk.

The fire consumed the red wax and the enchanted parchment in a single second, reducing my former Alpha’s demands to a handful of black ashes that drifted onto the wooden desk. The Silver Moon messenger stared in absolute shock, taking a fearful step backward.

“Tell your Alpha that in Blood Moon, we do not return what falls into our claws,” Lawrence declared, and his Supreme aura erupted with such force that the office windows rattled with a dull vibration. “Tell him that if he has a problem with my decisions, he can come to the gates of my palace himself and try to take her from me. She belongs to me now.”

The Lycan King made a quick gesture with his hand, and the guards seized the messenger by the shoulders, dragging him out of the office while the man sputtered empty threats.

The heavy oak doors slammed shut once more, leaving me alone with the monster of scars, in the middle of a silence so dense I could hear the rapid beating of my own heart.