Chapter Four

Irina

Who touched my mate?" he growls.

I freeze entirely. I stare at the towering man in front of me, my heart thumping so hard I can feel it in my throat. "Your mate? No. That is impossible. I do not feel anything."

"You are an unshifted omega, Irina," he snaps. His blue eyes flash with a dangerous, predatory gold ring. "And you were just brutalized by an Alpha's rejection. Your inner wolf is in a state of absolute shock. She is buried too deep to feel the mating pull right now. But I am a Lycan. My beast knows exactly what belongs to me."

He steps back abruptly. The raw heat radiating from his tattooed chest vanishes, leaving me shivering in the cold room. He looks at the bloody bite mark on my neck with pure disgust.

"You think I want a broken toy?" he sneers. "It is a supreme insult to my rank. It is a disrespect to my entire bloodline. The Blackwood pack dared to send me another Alpha's discarded garbage."

"I did not ask to be sent here," I whisper. My voice is shaking badly.

"Shut up," he orders. He grabs a dark shirt from the back of a chair. "Do not expect anything from me tonight. You are not worthy of my bed."

He turns his back on me and storms out of the room. The heavy oak door slams shut behind him with a deafening crack.

I let out a shaky breath and slide down the cold stone wall until I hit the floor. I wrap my arms around my knees. I am safe. He has postponed the dreadful breeding ritual. A heavy wave of relief washes over my tired bones, but it feels hollow. I stay there on the floor, staring at the shadows on the ceiling as the silence in the room grows heavy. The terror slowly fades, leaving behind a hollow, agonizing ache in my stomach. I realize I have not eaten since before everything fell apart in the courtyard.

I push the bedroom door open quietly. The stone corridors are dark and empty. I creep down the grand staircase, following the faint scent of roasted meat and herbs to the lower level. I push open the wooden kitchen doors and see Greta looking up from a massive iron stove.

"You are not with the King?" she asks, her eyes widening in surprise.

"He left," I say quietly. "I am very hungry."

Greta nods quickly and motions to the other head maids. They rush around the kitchen, and within minutes, they place plates of roasted venison, fresh bread, and sweet fruits in front of me at the large wooden table. I sit down and eat like I have been starving for weeks. The food is warm and rich, but as I swallow a piece of bread, the memory of the courtyard slams into my mind. I see Xander's cold eyes. I see him wrap his arm around Cataline's waist.

A single tear slips down my cheek and splashes onto the wooden table.

"Crying over the fool who threw you away?" a voice asks.

I jump in my seat. A young man is leaning against the kitchen archway. He has the same dark hair as the King, but his eyes are a warm, inviting hazel.

"I am Alden," he says. He walks over and sits on the bench across from me. "I am the King's younger brother. Do not look so terrified. I do not bite."

"He rejected me in front of everyone," I whisper. I wipe my face quickly. "He broke my mother's locket."

"Then Xander Blackwood is an arrogant fool," Alden says simply. "But you need to be very careful here, Irina. My brother is not a patient man. The curse is tearing him apart from the inside. He is losing his mind."

"I know the rumors about him," I say.

"They are not just rumors," Alden says quietly. He leans forward. "His beast is wild. Eat your food and keep your head down."

I nod slowly and finish my meal in silence. I head back up to my room, but the heavy silk sheets feel wrong against my skin. I toss and turn, my mind racing. My throat feels painfully dry. It is an old habit from living in the attic back home, I always need water in the middle of the night.

I slip out of bed and into the hall. The castle is dead silent, but then a low, guttural snarl echoes through the corridor. It is coming from the West Wing. I know I should go back to my room, but my feet move on their own. A strange, magnetic pull drags me toward the dark corridor. I stop outside a set of heavy double doors that are slightly cracked open.

I peek around the wood and gasp.

The room is completely destroyed. Furniture is smashed into splinters. The King stands in the center of the wreckage, shirtless and looking completely distorted. He is in a feral state. His claws are fully extended, dripping with dark blood. The muscles in his back shift and crack as his Lycan beast fights to take over.

He snaps his head toward the door. His eyes are entirely black.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he roars.

I gasp and spin around to run. He is incredibly fast. He crosses the room in a blur and catches me before I can even take three steps. He slams me hard against the cold stone wall, his massive body pressing flush against mine.

"I told you to stay away from me," he snarls. He is breathing heavily. His bare chest rubs against my thin nightgown.

"I just wanted water," I breathe. My heart is hammering against his chest.

"Bullshit," he cusses under his breath.

He grabs both of my wrists with one hand and pins them above my head. His face dips down to my neck, inhaling my scent sharply. His nose brushes against the angry bite mark.

"You smell like him," he growls, his voice vibrating against my collarbone. "But you are mine."

He doesn't wait for me to speak. He lifts his head and crashes his mouth down onto mine. It is a brutal, demanding kiss that tastes like dark mint and danger. I try to pull back, but as his hot, rough hand slides slowly up my bare thigh under my silk gown, my entire body ignites.