#Chapter 5: Took

I flinched as King Zavan used his bare hands to break the handcuffs off me. As if they were mere toys to him.

“I trust that you’re grown enough to bathe yourself,” he stated.

I scowled, refusing to look at him. Even while kneeling, he was large enough to be at my eye-level. Monster.

The King sighed, as if he were the one who’d had the worst of it tonight. But he hadn’t been the one thrown over a shoulder, paraded through the palace like a hunted quarry.

He stood up. “Present yourself to me once you’re done here.”

Then the door closed behind him. I waited for his heavy footsteps to fade out, before finally undressing. Though I hated to admit it, some of the rogue's blood had splattered on me, and I was desperate to wash it off.

I stepped into the bath gingerly but with a sense of nostalgia. This was the first time I’d had a private bath since coming to the palace.

The omega baths were the smallest of course. There were always at least a few others occupying the space if it wasn’t crowded with bodies rushing to get washed during what little free time they were given.

Still, the size difference of the Lycans compensated for what little I was granted as an omega. Everything by average was bigger, so something they found small was quite average.

This tub was actually large enough for me to idly float in, without touching the edges.

But as the water cooled, I was faced with contemplating my next action.

The mate bond was not a blessing at all, surely. Perhaps the Witches had been doing the Lycans a service with the curse.

Because after everything that had happened tonight, the one thing sending heat rushing through me now was the sensation of being spanked by the King. Seren circled the memory of his touch, him, pacing and sniffing at the hedges of my consciousness. I knew now the mate bond was true and active.

But I refused to be controlled by it. Present myself? Of course he intended to use me as a breeder– it must have been a miracle to the Tyrant King that he had secured a means to sire an heir.

No. I hadn’t intended to let those rogues have me, and I wouldn’t allow even a king to.

I took the sharpest fragment of the broken silver cuffs and lined the sharp, jagged edges with Derek’s poison. Knowing Derek, I could trust it to be well-researched and just as lethal as intended.

Derek, damn him, might be getting exactly what he wanted after all.

I changed into the garments King Zavan had left for me. They were surprisingly modest and allowed for me to conceal the jagged shard in a loose pocket beneath the skirt’s tiered layers. Then I went to present myself to the King.

He sat on a stool at what looked to be a counter for his own personal bar.

“M-My King,” I said with a shaky voice, bowing my head deep. I would show exactly how submissive I could be. I curled my arms around myself, shrinking in.

King Zavan observed me. In a softer tone than he’d used prior, he said, “Come. Be seated. We have many things to discuss.”

I approached him with meek steps, gauging the distance. When I found myself close enough, I feigned tripping.

King Zavan moved swiftly, catching me around the waist mid-stumble before I could even fall– much earlier than I anticipated. It was fine. I needed him close.

I clung to his broad shoulders under the guise of steadying myself. My hands skimmed over the expanse of his arms to act as if I were about to push him away. All the while, I prayed that the mate bond was affecting him as much as it was me.

Focus. Focus.

Already my body was flushed with heat, knees genuinely about to give. His scent, his warmth, his touch– all of it was consuming me. My hands skimmed over the expanse of his chest, and I had no pretense for it.

The King’s eyes began to change– the color shifted brighter, glowing slightly. The mate bond was taking hold.

Then he started to lean in. I turned away in panic.

But instead of forcing a kiss, he buried his face against my neck and inhaled deeply. I shuddered. He did it again, brow furrowed. And again, a muscle in his jaw twitching.

It dawned on me what he was smelling. Derek. The rogues. Their scents were still lingering on me. I wasn't surprised. Lycans had a keen sense of smell, and he was the strongest of their kind.

His large hand, impossibly gentle, took my chin and tilted it sideways. A gasp escaped me as I felt his lips on the tender flesh of my throat, felt his tongue, felt his teeth. He began trailing slow, warm kisses from my ear towards my shoulder.

Another stupid noise escaped me. I was losing myself to him.

I bit my own lip hard. Wake up.

My mind was a mess. My body melting in the Tyrant’s arms. His scent–

I saw where his collar had gapped from his neckline, skin where I wanted to lean towards, inhale and taste. I fought back with the last shred of my willpower, biting the inside of my lip until I tasted blood. Freedom mattered more than surrendering to this moment, I reminded myself.

The next moment, I seized. I took the silver cuff shard from my skirt, and plunged it into that exposed span of tempting skin.

In an instant, my own shoulder flared with pain and I yelped, losing my grip on the shard. King Zavan pulled back, steeling himself against the bond immediately.

“You little fool,” he growled, teeth bared as he seized my wrist.

The shard clattered to the floor. My mind reeled as I writhed from the pain– it was as if I had stabbed myself!

What was happening?

“How do you think I tracked you in the first place?” King Zavan grit out through his teeth. “This is how our mate bonds work. I can sense you, where you are, what you feel. You belong to me.”

I gripped my shoulder where the phantom pain throbbed, the sear of it making me fall to my knees. I had never heard of mate bonds doing anything like this. At least not for any werewolves I’d known.

But why would it trigger now? Reality set in, and I realized how trapped I was. It didn’t matter where I ran or how far.

And why wasn’t Derek’s poison working? Useless.

“Then reject me,” I said, my voice cracking from the effort of not letting the weight of it all crush me entirely. “Break the connection. I don’t want it–”

“And why should I? Because you’ve pleaded?” King Zavan merely laughed harshly. “After making an attempt on my life? Forcing me to walk into an obvious trap to save you? Running away upon my return?”

I refused to be cowed. “None of that would have happened if you hadn’t stolen me as a pup!”

King Zavan stopped laughing. But he didn’t look sorry, merely solemn– not that it mattered because I had already resolved to never forgive him.

“Letting you run free is only going to cause more problems, isn’t it?” he muttered to himself, having the audacity once again to look weary. “From now on, I’ll have you serve at my side as my personal handmaiden.”

I bared my teeth at him. “No! If you don’t release me, I will kill you the next chance I get.”

King Zavan turned to look at me directly. Before I could realize he was moving, he was already upon me, pushing me to the floor.

I screamed and kicked and clawed, but he caged me in easily. He was biting the mound of his thumb, drawing blood.

I was still struggling, trying to resist as he pushed my mouth open with two thick fingers.

“This is what we Lycans call a blood oath,” King Zavan spoke low and maddeningly calm as he dribbled the blood into my mouth. “If you thought we were bound before as mates, your will is now tethered to mine. You are to do what I ask. Our lives are tied.”

I gagged, trying to cough the blood out. But King Zavan sealed my jaw shut, holding my head with his two hands like a giant vice, and waited patiently for my swallow reflex to act.

My body betrayed me. And by then, all my fight had drained out. The metallic taste slid down my throat.

King Zavan’s hands left me. “Never try to outsmart me or escape again.”

"From this moment, your life is mine, and mine is yours. We are bound together, until our last breath."