Chapter Three: The Mark Of The Pawn

"What kind of trade?" I asked, my pulse beating fast against his fingers.

Kaelen didn't let go of my chin. "Marcus is already sending a formal letter demanding your head. If I keep you here as a guest, it means war today. But if I claim you under ancient Lycan law as my temporary Pawn, he can't touch you without challenging me directly."

I stiffened, my hands clenching into fists on the cold floor. A Pawn Mate. It was an old law where an Alpha claimed a rogue to protect them, but it meant complete submission.

"I don't bow to anyone," I said through gritted teeth. "I've had enough men trying to own me."

"You don't have to bow," Kaelen replied smoothly, his eyes locked on mine. "You just have to let me place my crest on your skin so my guards and Marcus know you belong to this territory. Do we have a deal, or do I toss you back into the snow for his dogs to finish off?"

I swallowed hard, my throat feeling dry as sand. I hated the thought of wearing another Alpha's mark. But my fourteen-year-old brother, Leo, was still locked in Marcus's dark dungeons, and I couldn't save him if I was lying dead in a ditch.

"Fine," I whispered, forcing the word past my lips. "Just the temporary mark."

Kaelen leaned down slowly. His hot breath brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck, making my entire body lock up in tension. When his sharp fangs pressed against my collarbone, a wild jolt of electricity shot straight down my spine.

I gasped, closing my eyes and bracing for the agonizing pain of a bite.

Instead, a blinding, furious heat erupted right where his teeth met my skin. A strange golden light burst out from under my collar, glowing so bright it shone right through my thin, blood-stained shirt.

Kaelen pulled back instantly, his dark eyes wide with shock.

On the right side of my neck was his temporary black wolf crest, freshly inked onto my skin. But right beside it, burning with a bright golden fire, was a second mark a crescent moon wrapped in silver flame.

The ancient mark of a True Mate.

The guards near the doors gasped, two of them dropping to their knees on the cold stone in pure shock.

My breath caught in my chest. An Omega rogue framed for murder... was the fated mate of the Cold Sovereign?

Kaelen stared at my neck, his icy, unreadable mask completely shattered for the first time. Before he could say a single word, the heavy oak doors at the back of the hall slammed open with a deafening crash.

"King Kaelen!" a guard shouted, running into the room out of breath. "Alpha Marcus has just arrived at the outer gates with twenty armed warriors! He is demanding you hand over the girl immediately!"

Kaelen slowly pulled his eyes away from my glowing mark and turned toward the doors. The shock in his face vanished, replaced by a dark, lethal glare that made the room feel twenty degrees colder.

"Tell Marcus," Kaelen growled, his deep voice echoing like thunder off the stone walls, "that he is five minutes too late."