The Cursed Alpha’s Second Chance Mate

Rhea’s POV

I tried to scream, but my head was underwater. Literally. My lungs felt heavy, too heavy, as the pressure pressed so hard it felt like they would burst.

“You good-for-nothing bitch. I hate you. I fucking curse the moon goddess for making you my mate,” Theon’s voice vibrated through the room. I thrashed, clawing at anything, trying to make a sound, but only gurgles escaped me from beneath the water.

“Who do you think you are to question me? Huh? Do I look like I give a damn about your feelings, you useless whore?” He pushed harder. The sharp sting of wolf’s bane seared through the water and into my skin. I had heard drowning was one of the most painful ways to die. Add wolf’s bane to it and it was worse. Much worse.

My head spun; stars blossomed across my vision. This was it, the end. Just when I thought I could not hold on any longer, Theon yanked my hair and slammed my head onto the floorboard. I was too numb to feel the impact at first. I greedily inhaled air, panting, my T-shirt clinging to me like a second skin.

“F…fuck… you, Theon,” I managed to choke, my cheeks burning with shame and anger. His fist met my face. A crack from my jaw flattened the world into a white-hot line.

From the corner of my vision I saw the maids hiding. Some peeking, some weeping. This was our daily occurrence. They had learned to look away and then look again, because nothing ever changed.

“Oh, so that’s what you want, huh?” Theon seethed as he grabbed my collar. “You want it hard, right? For me to fuck you like the little whore you are, right?”

“Stop it,” I mouthed, but my pleas were muffled by his rough palm. We struggled, and yet his strength overwhelmed me. The wolf inside me felt dull and distant, blunted by the poison he had used for years. This was what years of wolf’s bane had done to me, to us.

“You always think you can defy me,” he spat. “You always think you are better than your place. You are nothing. A possession. My property. No one will ever want you. No one would even look twice at that ugly, fat body of yours. Even a disfigured pig is more appealing.”

Before I could brace myself, he violated me. There are no honest words to describe the hollow fury and shame that followed. When he was done, he rose and looked at me as if I had dirt on my face, disgust carved into the lines around his mouth. The same man who had once smiled down at me with warmth now felt colder than the steepest mountain in Shadowpack.

He spat on my face and kicked my feet, then mocked me. “You should be grateful I even touched your impulsive body. Don’t forget your place, bitch. Remember that no one will rescue you. You belong to me.”

With that, he walked away. I could only stare at his retreating back, at the man who was supposed to be my mate, my protector, my husband.

“Oh goddess, are you all right, my lady?” Liema, the chief maid, hurried to me and placed a gentle hand on my back.

“Yes. Why would I not be?” I forced a smile that tasted like ash. Only a fool would believe that. Even the blind would be able to read the fury and the fracture beneath my composure.

She helped me to my feet. “Please, allow me to draw you a bath, my lady. You must freshen up.”

Before she could move, I noticed her hesitation. She fidgeted with the hem of her apron and her eyes darted to the doorway as if weighing whether to speak. I raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you want to tell me, Liema?”

“My lady,” she began, voice trembling with concern, her gaze flicking to me as if searching for permission to pry. “You know I care about you more than most. I wish only the best for you.”

I felt the warning flare in my gut. I already knew where this would go. This was not the first time she had tried to reason with me. It had never helped.

“Why do you stay? Why do you let him break you like this? It pains me to watch you wither, to see you lose pieces of yourself every day.”

If those words were meant to sting, they did. Her pity cut like a blade but also like a hand reaching for mine. I turned away to hide the tears I could not stop.

“If that is all, Liema, you are dismissed.” My voice sounded brittle even to my own ears. I did not want to look at her; I did not want her to see how I was crumbling.

“That is what you always say,” she replied, anger threading her tone now. “But remember one thing, my lady. If you don’t walk out of this prison they call a marriage with your own legs, you will be carried out as a corpse. We will not forgive you for dragging us with you.”

The door slammed behind her so hard it rattled the windows. Her threat hung in the air like an accusation.

I sank to my knees. My lips quivered, and a shaky hand flew to my mouth to stifle the sounds. All my life I had never known peace. I had made mistakes — terrible ones — and loving Theon had been the worst of them.

I used to judge the women who clung to false ideologies of love, the ones who refused to leave an abusive marriage. I thought I would never be that woman, until I became her.