Chapter 4

With a flick of his wrist, King Zavan ripped the chain of the handcuffs as if it were merely ribbon to him. His gaze lingered on the torn hem of my clothes, ripped by the rogue Lycan.

Without a word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The heavy fabric fell around me like a cloak, and the scent clinging to it—strangely familiar, yet not my own—brought an unexpected comfort to my still-racing heart.

Then in one effortless motion, he hauled me over his shoulder and began carrying me out the room.

“Wait, let go of me!” I said, flushed with humiliation. I didn’t want to be seen like this. “I said, let go!”

I jolted as a huge hand smacked my rear-end.

“Keep struggling like that,” King Zavan’s voice rumbled, “and I'll be more than happy to prove those rogue Lycans wrong about me.”

Annoyance flared within me, but the slight pain from his large hand transformed into a wave of heat that shot straight to my core.

Seren stirred awake in response, and I felt a satisfied purr rumble through her. I struggled to turn my head toward the dim light in the hallway, and my heart sank.

Midnight had arrived. I was officially eighteen. The mate bond between us was now active.

After the King brought me back to his chambers, he dumped me directly into his terrifyingly large bathroom and told me to clean myself before turning to leave.

I didn't understand how he had found me so accurately, but his intention was crystal clear—due to the Witches' curse, Lycans rarely produced offspring, with mates offering the only slightly higher possibility.

As the supreme ruler, Zavan would need an heir. And I was the perfect candidate for a breeder.

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!”

“Stealing? No, you're born to be mine. ”

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.

“Tyrant,” I gritted out through bared teeth. “Murderer.”

His bond to me clutched my wolf, tugging like a lead. Everywhere he had touched retained an echo of his warmth– it lit a fire in my body, the rising smoke of which clouded my mind.

“We both know exactly who I am,” King Zavan spoke low, entirely unaffected. “It’s your own place you need to learn.”

I barely heard his words as much as I could feel them. As much as I could need them. The dark rumble of his voice called to my wolf like a siren luring me into the depths of madness.

It was unbearable. He was unbearable.

He was–

He was right there, under my hands. I don’t remember closing the distance or curling my fingers tight into his shirt. I could barely see him beyond my want.

But my wolf Seren knew him, knew the shape of him, the feel, Goddess– the scent….

As I strained my eyes to focus on him, it struck me sorely how composed he was. My body was on fire, barely under my own control. And he was satisfied to watch me suffer.

Damn him, we were linked. He should suffer it too. I would make him.

I kissed the Tyrant King.

I didn’t know what I was doing– I had never kissed anyone before.

But my hands found his hair, forcing him closer. I had been desperate for his kiss, but he pulled back with an icy detachment. His indifference hit me like a physical blow, and a flicker of clarity sank in. All my loathing surfaced in full, consuming me, mounting so hot I intended it to consume him too.

Fine. If this was how it would be, I'd drag him down with me.

His lips drew back from mine slightly, but I caught the bottom swell with my teeth and bit down hard.

I was driven by pure instinct. I licked his lips, asking for a kiss that was all blood.

His blood was like fire, burning through me. And then I heard Seren, not a whisper but a command: We need him. Submit.

I'd never known anything like it. But I knew, right then.

I was in heat.