Chapter 7

MIRA’S POV

A few weeks had passed after the dinner party incident. Asher had not summoned me since that night, and I had spent most of my days trying to remain completely invisible.

I began going to the greenhouse and gardens frequently. The gardens were quiet, filled with the sweet scent of blooming white roses and damp earth. It was the only place where the suffocating aura of this place felt distant.

On my way back from the gardens, to keep up my streak of avoiding Asher, I hurried down the narrow corridor that led to the omega staff quarters so I could get to my room from there. I stopped when I heard the sound of low, hushed voices around the corner.

Four young maids were standing near the laundry bins, leaning close together.

"She has been here for weeks and that is very unusual. Do you think she is his mate?" the first maid whispered, her voice filled with judgment.

"I heard a rumor that Alpha King Asher only brought her back because she insulted him. They say he is just keeping her alive until the border treaty with Silver Crest is officially finalized." Another maid said.

"I heard she is a curse," the second maid replied, shaking her head.

"An omega living in the royal quarters makes our entire pack look weak. The King will get rid of her soon."

I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, my chest tightening but I chose to ignore them. I forced my breathing to remain steady and walked past the kitchen stairs, heading straight up to my massive bedroom. I did not want to give them the satisfaction of seeing my pain.

Even among people of my rank, I was considered less.

Inside my room, I walked over to the vanity table. I picked up the hairbrush the maids had left for me. I began brushing my hair, watching my reflection in the mirror. The bristles scraped against my scalp, the massaging motion helping to calm my racing thoughts.

The doors suddenly flew open without a single warning knock.

My body shook violently, and the brush slipped from my fingers, clattering loudly against the floor.

I spun around instantly.

Asher walked into my room wearing a simple training leather that clung to his massive, muscular chest and thick arms. His scent immediately flooded the bedroom, completely wiping out the lingering smell of the garden roses.

The space that had felt so incredibly large just a moment ago suddenly felt entirely too small. He filled the entire doorway with his six-foot-four frame, his golden-hazel eyes locking onto mine with an intense, unreadable expression.

I was completely terrified. My hands began to shake at my sides, and the cold sweat of panic broke out across the back of my neck.

"Follow me," Asher commanded.

He did not wait for my response. He turned around on his heel and strode back out into the long corridor.

I took a deep, ragged breath and forced my legs to move. I walked out of the room and followed a few paces behind him.

My knees were trembling so violently I could barely keep my balance. My mind raced with absolute horror as we descended a dark staircase I had never seen before. We were going deep into the lower levels of the fortress.

I thought of all the terrifying ways he could kill me down here. I wondered if my time had finally come. I had managed to survive for weeks, but now his patience had clearly run out. Perhaps the border treaty was finalized, and I was no longer useful as a political pawn. My limbs shook with a fierce, icy dread filled my body.

Asher stopped in front of a iron door. He pushed it open and stepped aside.

"In," he grunted, gesturing for me to enter first.

I walked past him, my skin prickling from the intense heat radiating from his massive body. I stepped into the room and almost completely lost my footing on the smooth stone floor. I caught myself against the edge of a heavy wooden table, my eyes widening in pure shock.

The room was filled from top to bottom with thousands of deadly weapons. Long silver swords were arranged in neat rows along on side of the wall.

Heavy battle-axes, spiked maces, and polished steel daggers hung from iron hooks above our heads.

My throat went entirely dry, and a sickening weight settled deep into my stomach. Back at the Silver Crest pack, the old omegas used to tell terrifying stories around the kitchen fires about the royal family.

I had heard a rumor that the ruthless Alpha King loved to play psychological games with his victims. They said he always let you choose the exact weapon that would be used to end your life.

Now, I was finally witnessing the truth of those horror stories. I could not believe my own eyes.

The thousands of blades surrounding me were not for decoration. I was standing in an execution chamber.

Asher walked into the center of the room, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He turned his head slowly, his eyes scanning the walls before landing back on my face.

I was very sure I looked terrified.

The small scar across his left eyebrow twitched slightly in the dim light.

"Look around you, Mira," Asher rumbled, his deep voice bouncing off the stone walls like thunder.

"Look at everything very carefully."

I gripped the edge of the wooden table tighter, my fingernails digging into the grain until they hurt. I looked at a row of short, glittering silver daggers resting on a velvet tray near my hand. Tears of pure frustration and fear gathered at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall in front of him. I was going to be killed by a weapon I picked myself.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked, my voice cracking with emotion as I stared at the sharp silver blades.

"If you are going to murder me for what I said on the cliff, just get it over with. Do not make me choose the instrument of my own death."

Asher narrowed his eyes instantly, freezing at what I said.

He took slow steps toward me, his shadow completely swallowing my petite frame.

"Murder you?" Asher repeated.

He reached down and rested his hand on the table next to me. He then lifted the massive blade effortlessly, and pointed the sharp edge directly out toward my chest.