Chapter 2

~SURI~

“Suri!” someone calls.

I jerk up from sleep and groan, shutting my eyes as the bright morning light blinds me momentarily.

The person on the other side knocks again, even more frantically.

“I’m coming,” I call and get out of bed, feeling very exhausted even though I have just awoken.

“Alpha wants to see you in his study in thirty minutes,” the omega announces.

My body tenses up and my eyes widen a little, wondering why Father wants to see me. He hardly ever requests my presence. It’s almost as if he doesn’t even want to see me.

Excitement mingles with dread as I get ready, taking a little time to look better. Anything to get my father’s acknowledgement.

As I make my way to his study, I overhear some omegas speaking in hushed tones. The subject of their conversation makes me halt to listen.

“I heard he is coming to take a bride from our pack,” one of them says.

“I wonder which unfortunate maiden he will choose from us,” the other one replies.

“I heard he has asked Alpha to give up Lady Emily. He threatens to bring war if Alpha doesn’t agree to this contract. He wants the heir to the throne.”

The others gasp at that statement. I hurry away from the gossiping omegas and make my way to my father’s study, wondering what kind of sick bastard would want to take a bride who isn’t their mate.

When I knock at his office door, Father is speaking with one of his gammas. He does not acknowledge me as I enter.

“Make sure everyone is kept in touch. We can’t afford to provoke King Ragnar.”

“Yes, Alpha,” the gamma says and bows.

“You may leave,” my father orders.

The gamma bows once more and leaves. That is the only time my father’s eyes land on me again, but there is no warmth in them.

I bow slowly to him. “You requested my presence.” I want to ask him about what I heard, about what is going on in the pack, and about the Lycan King's threats, but I know he will never indulge me.

I can see the eye bags underneath his eyes, an indication that he has not slept the entire night. There is also a line of worry on his face. Emily is his beloved daughter, the one he has named his heir. Taking her away will make him sick.

“There is a development,” Father says casually, moving behind his desk. “The Lycan King is coming to the pack today and has requested a bride as a price for peace. You will go with him.”

“What?!” I blurt before I can stop myself. Over my dead body.

My father only gives me an emotionless look. “It is not a topic for discussion.”

Tears sting my eyes. He has taken every other thing from me—my birthright, my freedom, and my say—but my choice to happiness and whom to spend my life with is mine to keep. Mine alone.

I swallow hard. “I refuse it,” I say defiantly. “I know the King wants your heir, and I’m not that heir. If you force me, I will tell the King you are only deceiving him.”

I see the fury whirling in his eyes as he gets out from behind his desk and gives me a backhanded slap. My face snaps to the side and I taste blood as my teeth cut the side of my tongue.

“You dare defy me?” he snarls. “Your father and your Alpha?! For twenty years, I have suffered the affliction of your existence. I’ll suffer no more.”

I’m not supposed to hurt, but his words hurt me so much. He doesn’t care about my existence; it is an affliction to him. I want to yell and tell him that it is not my fault that Mum died giving birth to me. I hadn’t even taken my first breath before she died. But Father calls to the guards by the door.

They sweep in, ready for his command.

“Take her to the dungeons immediately,” he says dismissively without looking at me.

The guards drag me to the dungeons under the glare of the entire pack, like a criminal, while my father follows. Once inside one of the cells, he makes them bind me on a bench, on my stomach, and takes out a whip.

“You will marry the King,” he says gently, as if consoling me.

“I won’t marry him,” I maintain my defiance.

The whip lands on my back hard. I cry out in pain. But my father repeats the same phrase, to which I reply with my own, “I won’t marry him.” It’s a contest of wills now—mine against his. I’m not going to let him take away the only thing I have remaining without a fight.

By the tenth lash, I’m crying profusely, but I refuse to surrender my will to him, even though my back burns like fire. By the fifteenth lash, my entire body is trembling, and blood soaks my dress.

Maybe death is better than surrender. I have always dreamed of having a mate who would give me the love I’ve never known since I was a child. I’ve never dreamt of becoming a contract wife to anyone. It is so unfair.

On the twentieth lash, I can barely speak as my voice shakes with fear.

“What’s so difficult to obey?” Father hisses in frustration.

It is as if he is determined to cane me until death if I don’t agree. When he raises his hand again to land another lash, I give up.

“I will marry him,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

He dumps the whip. “Shouldn’t have taken you this long,” he snarls.

“Now listen, you are my heir, and you are not forced into this. You understand the price for peace and you are willing to pay for your people. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Alpha?” an uncertain voice of a gamma calls from outside. “The King is here.”

“Get some female omegas to take her out of here. Get the pack doctor to fix her up and get her ready for the King,” my father’s voice commands.

“Yes, Alpha,” the gamma replies.

I hear the cell gate squeak open as his footsteps retreat. I feel myself drifting into unconsciousness.

***

The next hour, I’m treated like a specimen on the pack doctor’s table. As he dresses the wounds on my back, he keeps sighing and shaking his head. Amelia paces about the room, worried like a mother hen, but her worry is not for me.

“How could Lawrence do this now? What was he thinking?” she keeps saying, like she cares, but I know she doesn’t.

She is only worried about the Lycan King not finding out about this abuse.

The doctor manages to patch me up the best he can. I’m dressed in a beautiful gown, like none I’ve ever owned, and dolled up. Amelia and some servants lead me to the court like a sacrificial lamb.

Once the door to the courtroom opens, Amelia bursts into sobs, dabbing at crocodile tears. My body is on fire, but I maintain a rigid stance.

As we walk inside, my gaze falls on the visiting people—the King and his people. My breath catches in my throat when I see the man who is the King.

He is the same man I saw by the river last night.