Chapter 3.

How many days has it been since I arrived here?

Everywhere is dark, and the floor is hard and cold against my naked skin. I can’t tell how long I’ve even been here because time feels irrelevant in the suffocating darkness that surrounds me. My ankles hurt from the silver shackles around them, and my wrists throb where the bindings cut into my skin, remnants of Alpha King Sven’s spell numbing my hands.

I haven’t heard a word about Kyle or any sighting of a male Fae from the guards that gossip outside my prison sometimes, and it makes me worry. I can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened to him since my imprisonment at the Alpha King palace.

The stifling silence in the prison is broken by the distant sounds of some palace guards patrolling outside. I find myself lying still on the ground as my mind goes back to the moment I realized I have a mate. How can it even be real? Fae don’t have mates. Shouldn't have mates. It’s a myth, unheard of. And yet, a weight remains pressing against my chest like a sledgehammer, a painful reminder of my bond with him. Alpha King Sven, who hasn't come to see me since he threw me into this place, leaving his guards to deal with me. The pain in my chest hurts. But I won’t cry. I haven’t cried once since being locked up.

“What was their Moon Goddess thinking? Mate?” I mutter to myself, my voice hoarse. It’s a mistake. It has to be. We Fae don’t serve the Moon Goddess. We have no ties to her. Our goddess is Elysia, and she doesn’t chain us to someone for life. So how is it possible that I’m bound to him?

Alpha King Sven will reject me, I’m sure of it. And he’ll do it in a way worse than death.

Maybe this is the Moon Goddess’ way of showing she hates my kind. The thought makes me scoff bitterly.

Suddenly, the heavy door swings open, and a giant guard steps inside, his expression grim as he holds a fire touch close to my face. “You’re wanted,” he growls, stepping closer and yanking me to my jelly-like-feet. The cold air stings against my bare skin, and I shiver involuntarily, a fresh wave of shame crashing over me at my nakedness but I don't try to cover myself up.

“Where are you taking me?” I demand, wearing a false bravado even as my heart races with fear.

“To the king,” he replies curtly, not bothering to meet my gaze as he pulls me along with him. I stumble behind, the shackles around my ankles clanking loudly against the stone floor.

Then the pain in my chest worsens, a relentless throb that feels like a warning of something bad. This time, it's enough to make me cry. But I still do not.

The guard drags me through a labyrinth of hallways and stairs, under the gaze of some guards and palace servants who don't hide the fact that they're ogling at me. At my naked body. Unashamedly.

I fix my gaze to the floor as my mind races with thoughts of my twin brother again —what could be happening to him now? Panic threatens to overwhelm me, but I push it aside, focusing instead on why Alpha King Sven wants to see me.

I wonder if he’s already decided how he’ll reject me. Or maybe he’s planned something worse. Like my death.

As we approach the door of what seems like a chamber, the guard pauses, his face impassive. “Just a warning, don’t let him get angry,” he warns, as though that could somehow help me. Then, with a rough shove, he pushes me inside.

I stumble into the room, bracing myself for whatever awaits me. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes take in the scene before me. Alpha King Sven is sprawled naked on a huge bed, surrounded by three equally naked women while another naked woman rides him. Their laughter and moans fill the air, a stark contrast to my own current reality.

I hold back a moan as the pain in my chest flares up, sharp and excruciating, as though the bond between us recognizes what he's doing and reacts violently to it. My heart races with lots of emotions—jealousy, anger, confusion. Is this his way of punishing me? By not rejecting the mate bond?

I stand for almost a minute before King Sven’s attention shifts from the women to me. His eyes darken with amusement as they roam over my nakedness. “Ah, my little Fae,” he drawls, a smirk creeping across his face. He holds the woman riding him down by the waist, making her moan louder. “I see you’ve finally arrived. I trust you’ve been keeping yourself entertained down there?”

“Entertained?” I retort, my voice laced with bitterness. “I’d rather you just reject me now and kill me.”

He chuckles, the sound rich and deep, echoing through the room. “Oh, I will get to that, but not just yet. You’ve been very much on my mind, my little Fae—”

“Olivia. The name's Olivia,” I say as I try ignoring the pain in my heart.

“Olivia,” he repeats, almost lazily. “Beautiful name for an ugly creature.”

“I could agree, but we'd both be wrong.”

He laughs again, one hand fondling the breast of the woman on top of him. The pain in my chest becomes unbearable, and I wince. His eyes flicker with something dark and satisfying. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “Spending a week in prison hasn't tamed your tongue, I see,” he says, the teasing edge in his voice making my skin crawl. “I want to take my time with you… savor you to the fullest. I know I’ll enjoy breaking you.”

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

“Who says I won’t?”

Before I can respond, the woman on top of him cries out, her pleasure clear, before rolling off him and planting a kiss on his lips. I want to look away, but I can’t. It’s like I’m being forced to watch.

“You're free to go, my ladies,” he says to the four of them.

The women leave and I don't miss their scornful looks they give me as they pass by me.

King Sven stands, completely naked, and I force myself not to stare as he picks up his robe. He circles me like a predator sizing up his prey, his eyes raking over me. It makes me feel little and vulnerable.

“Your body’s not bad,” he says, finally stopping behind me. “I should just kill you, but having you as my mate raises questions.”

“Questions?” My voice trembles a bit as I ask.

“Questions,” he reiterates, his tone now darker, more tense. “Why would the moon goddess pair me with a Fae, knowing how much I despise your kind?”

The last bit is said with so much venom that it makes me shudder. “Y-you can just reject me, you know?” I whisper, hoping he'll do just that instead of tormenting me by sleeping around.

“No. That won't answer my questions,” he replies. His voice is so close now, and his breath is warm against my naked skin. It makes the hair on my body bristle. “Do you have someone in your family that's of werewolf lineage?”

Do I? I wouldn't be able to tell him because I don't know the answer, as my parents were war orphans. “I don't know,” I reply honestly, my voice barely audible.

His hand trails down my back — the place my wings once used to be before my parents had them cut, and I tense at the contact. His touch is gentler than I expect, and I feel my body reacting, though I hate it. “I used to have wings too,” he murmurs, and his words catch me off guard.

Werewolves don’t have wings. Only Elves and Fae do.

“My mother was a Fae after all,” he says, his voice almost too soft to hear.