Chapter 7

Fear crept in, but I shoved it back, maintaining a stern look at him. “Keeping me alive till now is a mistake, you know that? Better kill me now because I hate you so much that I won’t hesitate to slit your throat when you sleep!” I spat and he scoffed.

“You haven’t felt my cruelty yet,” he said, his voice cold like the iron wall of the cart, no trace of his usual smirk. “There are no chains on you, no broken bones, no poison in your veins like your other two friends. Hate and call me a devil when I make you face hell on earth.” His gray eyes flicked to me, sharp and intense.

“I already hate you for killing my people and destroying my home,” I muttered, my voice rough, scraping my throat like glass.

My cheek still throbbed from his men’s punch earlier, blood crusted on my arm from his claws when we fought, and the memory of Clara’s groans; how her body jerked under that syringe. They all burned in my chest with rage..

“You’ll hate me more soon,” he said with a shrug, picking up a map beside him, his fingers tracing the lines like they held secrets. He didn’t look at me, but his scent filled the cart, heavy, pulling at me despite my rage.

I leaned forward, the cart’s metal floor cold under my knees. “You have a family, right?” I asked, voice low, testing him. “Parents? Siblings? Lover? Or were you always this psychopath, even before they crowned you Alpha King? You have to be so wicked to wipe away a….”

He snorted, his eyes narrowing in frustration. He quickly grabbed a roll of tape from the seat. “Too lousy! You talk too much!,” he growled, lunging at my mouth.

I threw my hands up, covering them to avoid him taping it, but he was fierce, his grip like iron on my neck. I hit between his thighs and a low growl slipped from him but he didn’t release me.

He slammed my face into the cart’s wall, the impact sharp, splitting my forehead. Blood trickled, warm and sticky, down my cheek, the pain throbbing like my head might crack open.

I sobbed, a raw sound I couldn’t stop, my hands shaking as I clutched my skull.

“Don’t attack me!” he hissed as if trying to justify hitting my head on the wall. His breath was hot against my ear as he seethed lowly. “I do what I want with you.”

He ignored my tears, taping my mouth shut, the adhesive bitter on my lips, and bound my hands with rope that bit my wrists. “Now I get peace,” he said, sitting back, his eyes on the map like I was no longer existing.

My hatred flared, hotter than the pain. He hates me also, and I can clearly see it in his eyes.

Then how the fuck are we mates? Two enemies!

Maybe the curses of my parents and my pack had finally reached the goddess ears which is why she turned my life into this.

I still couldn’t shift despite having my inner wolf. I also never wanted a mate and was good on my own as a rogue, but the misery from my past seemed to be returning back at me at a fast pace.

Lucas wasn’t a mate to love me, but the man sent to break and destroy me, probably the karma from the goddess for killing my parents.

My gaze drifted to him with a killer glare but he wasn’t even looking in my direction. I swore in my heart I would make him pay for this pain but for the first time since I joined the rogue clan, I wasn’t sure how. This man was ruthless and powerful at the same time.

The cart rattled on, the silence heavy, broken only by the creak of wheels and distant wolf howls.

Finally, it stopped, the jolt jarring my aching head. The door opened, and a red rug rolled out, leading to a castle gate that loomed like a beast’s maw.

A guard offered Lucas a box, and he pulled out a choke chain collar, its metal glinting under the torchlights.

“This tightens if you pull,” he said, voice flat, wrapping it around my neck, the cold steel biting my skin. He yanked the tape off, ripping at my lips, and cut the rope from my hands. “Move.”

I scrambled after him, the chain short, maybe four feet, tugging if I lagged.

“Don’t step on the rug,” he snapped, his boots steady on the crimson path. I veered to the bare ground, stones tugging my feet, as a crowd roared singing alchants of victory, their voices thick with worship for their king who had successfully my clan away.

He didn’t wave back, didn’t smile, just strode forward, face hard, while I trailed like a dog, the collar rubbing my neck raw.

“You any good in bed?” he asked, voice low, not looking back.

“No,” I shot back, eyes narrowed, my voice sharp despite the pain in my head. “I’m not your sex toy.”

He snorted, still walking. “What are you good at, then?”

“Cooking, maybe” I said, lying through my teeth, my voice bitter. Not sure if I’m good at cooking, but I am so good at poisoning. “Let me cook for you.”

“You’re useless then,” he said, his tone mocking but cold. “I kept you alive for one thing, Mia. You’ll learn to please me on bed, or you won’t last long here. Hope you’re not a virgin.”

I swallowed, my throat tight, rage burning. “You don’t have a wife?” I asked, voice low, almost a hiss. “Someone to have sex with you without planning a way to kill you. Maybe her love would stop you from being a psychopath!”

He stopped, glancing back, his eyes flashing amber, his wolf close. “Love?” he said, voice sharp, cutting. “I’d kill whoever it is on sight. But I need a child—an heir.” He looked me over, his gaze lingering and I couldn’t tell what was running through his mind.

He didn’t say anything more and continued walking.

My stomach churned, the mate bond making me admire his handsomeness for a second despite my disgust.

“Why tell me this? About wanting an heir! Does that have anything to do with me?” I said but he didn’t even act like he heard my voice.

We reached the castle porch, the doors opening to reveal a sitting room gleaming with gold and chandeliers dripping gems, furniture carved with wolves, the air thick with a woody, cedar scent that felt too warm, too clean for this hell.

I peeked past Lucas’s broad frame, the wealth mocking my bloodstained clothes, my scarred hands.

“Welcome to hell,” he said, turning to face me, his voice low, his face hard as stone. His gray eyes locked on mine, and fear crept in, cold and heavy, despite my defiance.

He was the devil, and this castle was his domain, every inch screaming his power.

I dropped my gaze, my heart pounding, the collar tight against my throat.

He could bend me, break me, with a snap of his fingers. But he didn’t. Was it because I was his mate? Isn’t being his mate a good reason to kill me on sight?

Every second I breathe, the more I want him dead in the most gruesome way. I must find a way to make him pay for what he did to Clara, to my clan, for every drop of blood he’d spilled.

“You still look ready to fight,” he said, stepping close, his voice a low chuckle, his scent overwhelming. “Not scared yet?”

I stayed silent, my jaw clenched, blood still seeping from my forehead, the pain grounding me.

“You need to know why I’ll make you suffer terribly,” he said, his voice dropping low. “No miracles can save you from this cruel fate. There is no freedom for you because your people took everything from me. You’ll pay for it, every day.”

“Keep bluffing!” I scoffed and he smirked. If he thought he could use all these threat to make me beg, he doesn’t really know me.

We stepped inside and climbed up the stairs, the cedar scent stronger. The hallway was vast, polished wood floors echoing our steps, walls lined with portraits of wolves, maybe past Alphas, or whatever. I don’t care.

“Meet my wives,” he said, nodding to a doorway where six women stood, their dresses silk, their faces blank, eyes hollow. I stared in confusion.

“They promised me a child, an heir because of the prize. All failed and now they suffer for that.” He turned to me, his eyes burning, indignant. “Mia, you are a rogue wolf, just like her.”

“Like who?” I asked, seeing him infuriated, his wolf fighting to get freed. My inner wolf cowered seeing the rage in his eyes.

“Because of your kind, I was cursed forever and can't have an heir to this great throne. The great empire that I built with both sweat and blood would go down the drain when I die, all because you made me fall in love with you after lying about your real identity. You made me have a blood covenant with you, an abomination that brought this curse on me!" His voice cracked with raw pain, not just anger.

"What? Me?" I muttered in sheer confusion, wondering who he was referring to because it couldn't be me. "When did we have a blood covenant? What’re you talking about? I have never met you before.”

His face twisted, veins bulging, his wolf’s amber glow flaring in his eyes. “You think I’m a monster, right?” he snarled, stepping so close his heat pressed against me, his scent choking. I should have cower in fear but I didn’t.

Somehow, he wasn’t scary to me, unlike the six women who were shivering already. I was just confused.

“You judge me, call me cruel, but you turn me into this.” he growled, but there was something broken in his voice, a wound I didn’t understand.

"Who are you talking about?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as my heart raced. I was careful not to offend him more.

Someone in his past had really broken and shattered him, which I don't really care about. I am just concerned with the constant use of "you" when I haven't even met him before.