ชายาร้ายของท่านอ๋องเย็นชา

ALAYNA’s POV

“Whore.”

“Slut. ”

“Pathetic mute bitch.”

Whispers slice through the air and hit me the moment I step into the brightly lit ballroom. I take a deep breath and lift my head high as I make my way towards the main table, where Ezra, my husband sits. The verbal abuse does not affect me, at least, not anymore. I have gotten used to it after three years of marriage to Ezra Nightwalker, Alpha King of the North.

I finally reach the grand banquet table and quietly take my seat.

Laughter, loud and boisterous, fills the air as guests sip wine and congratulate Ezra on his latest conquest.

“To Lord Ezra, the great Alpha!” they toast and I lift my glass in sync, my fingers trembling just slightly.

He has just conquered the Southlands, successfully taking over the Alpha King of the South’s throne. With his latest conquest, Ezra has made more enemies, but he has also gained immense power, power that no one would dare defy.

His jaw is strong, his cheekbones high and his midnight hair smoothed back sleekly. His broad shoulders rise and fall with each laugh and his raven black eyes gleam with triumph. Yet, I feel nothing but a growing emptiness inside me.

A man in a dark green cloak approaches our table, a wide grin on his face. I do not know his name but he seems to be from an ally pack. He has a beautiful young blonde scantily dressed standing next to him.

They both bow low to Ezra.

“Your victory will be spoken of for generations, my lord. No one has ever seen such a display of power,” the man says. “And to honour you, I would like to give you my daughter. She can be your plaything, your bed warmer, anything you want her to be.”

The woman steps forward and starts to do a provocative dance, her hips swaying suggestively at Ezra.

Ezra nods lazily, but his eyes are already roaming the woman from head to toe, lingering ever so slightly on the bosom that threatens to spill out of her sheer dress.

Does he not even care that I am here?

A hand clinks on my shoulder and I jump a little in my seat. Turning my head, I am greeted by Drake, Ezra’s second-in-command, his loyal Beta. His baby blue eyes are bright as he leans down, speaking just above a whisper. “Alayna, you look radiant tonight.”

I force a smile, but it feels like my lips are cracking as I lift my glass once more.

Drake’s attention shifts back to Ezra and I see yet another woman being presented to Ezra, this time a brunette. She rolls her eyes at me before starting to dance for him, swaying her lips from left to right. The guests clap and laugh. I swallow the bile rising in my throat.

I do not want to be here anymore.

Quietly, I push my chair back, stand up and slip away from the table.

Ezra does not even look my way. He never does.

***

The hallway outside the banquet hall is a welcome escape. It is quiet here, the noise of the celebration muffled behind thick walls. It is still night outside, and the air feels heavy, as though the rain is about to fall.

I take a step further, the sound of my heels echoing in the otherwise silent space.

Then, I stop.

At the far end of the hallway, I see something. A silhouette, motionless, watching me.

The figure is tall, impossibly thin, like a shadow pulled out of the darkness. His outline is blurry at first, the dim light not enough to reveal his features, but something about him makes every hair on my body stand on end.

I am suddenly aware of how alone I am. There is no one here but him. This is not good. Not good at all.

Who is he? An enemy from the Southlands? I do not want to find out.

I may be a Luna to the Alpha King of the North but in all honesty, I am only one in name. I am actually an omega with no powers.

I have to fight every nerve in my body to stop trembling. It is a fight I win for about two seconds. Guess I am pathetic after all.

My hand shakes violently as I pull out my phone in my dress’ pocket, ready to press the emergency button. But then the figure moves.

Shit.

He steps out of the shadows, his movements unnaturally quick, almost too fast for my eyes to track.

Panic floods my chest and I finally realize the danger. My phone drops and it hits the stone floor with a soft crack.

Stupid! Alayna Morningstar, you stupid fool! I scold myself internally.

The man smiles. He is close now, his eyes fixed on mine, and I finally see it—his left eye. It is….gold. The iris is a shimmering, unnatural gold, like something out of a nightmare. I stumble backwards. Of all times I can be clumsy, why on earth does it have to be right now? Damn it!

Before I can even react, he is upon me. His hand shoots out, and I flinch instinctively, trying to push him away but he grabs both my wrists and twists them behind me and slams me face front against one of the pillars against the corridor.

Ouch. That hurts. Big time.

“Hush,” he sneers, his voice rough as he leans in close. His tone makes my stomach churn and his touch makes me feel like vomiting.

“Hmmm….you smell nice.” He breathes down my neck even as his nails dig into the skin of my arm. I can feel blood oozing from my arm.

Let me go! I struggle to be set free only for an inhuman blow to strike my head against the marble column.

BANG!

My head spins and I see stars swimming around my head.

“Let’s call your Alpha and have a little fun,” the man murmurs,

Wait….Alpha?

The word cuts through the haze of pain, and in that moment, the stars swimming around me vanish instantly. Ezra! He is talking about Ezra!

Why would he want Ezra? Is he from an enemy pack put to hurt Ezra?

The man pulls out a phone of his own.

“This is a very special phone you know?” the crazed man chuckles, waving the phone at the side of my face. “It’s got a voice modulator and is untraceable so no matter who I call, they can’t tell my real voice and will never know where I’m calling from. Smart, right?”

I watch from the side of my eyes, helpless, as he dials Ezra’s number. My heart is racing in my chest, and I cannot decide whether I want him to pick up or not.

The phone rings. My pulse pounds in my ears. One ring, two rings, three rings and it seems to go on forever.

Ezra does not answer. The man growls in frustration, his grip tightening on my arm.

He tries again.

Still no answer.

And then on the third try, Ezra finally picks up.

“I have your Luna,” the man sneers into the phone.

Silence on the other end.

“I have your Luna,” the man repeats, more agitated this time. He is frustrated, and confused, as if he doesn’t understand why Ezra isn’t reacting the way he expects.

I close my eyes, the weight of the truth crushing me. Ezra does not care about me. He never did. So why does a part of me wish he does?

“I’ll kill her,” the man threatens, his voice low and venomous.

My heart pounds so hard I think it might burst from my chest. Will Ezra come for me?

There is a sigh on the other end of the line. It seems like forever before Ezra finally speaks. And when he does, my whole world comes crashing down.

“Then show me her dead body.”