All Chapters of Mated to the Alpha King: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The space was furnished with only the most spartan, severe pieces. A single, hard looking wooden chair with a straight back stood sentinel near the hearth. A small, rough hewn table was its only companion. The stone walls were completely bare, the floor was uncovered stone, and thick dust motes danced in the single, weak beam of light filtering down from a high, narrow slit of a window near the ceiling. It looked, and felt, as though no one had set foot in here for a hundred years. This wasn’t a guest room. It wasn’t an honor . It was a cell. A beautiful, spacious, gilded cage designed for a forgotten prisoner. “This will be your....uhm.. quarters,” Jax said, the slight hesitation in his voice confirming her suspicion. He was making this up as he went along. He stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind them, the soft thud sealing them in. “There’s a washroom through there. Bedchamber. Everything you need.” Winter turned to look at him, her body starting to tremble as the

The sobs came from a place deep inside Winter, a raw, primal well of despair that had been filling her entire life. .They were violent, body wracking convulsions that tore from her throat, each one leaving her more breathless than the last. The cold of the stone floor seeped through her thin dress, but it was nothing compared to the ice in her soul. She was a thing caught in a trap, a creature whose fate had just been sealed by a monster’s whim. “Hey. Hey, snow, come on.” Jax’s voice cut through the fog of her misery, low and urgent. His hand was on her shoulder, a warm, solid weight in the cold nothingness. “You can’t stay on the floor. You’ll freeze. Come on, up you get.” She couldn’t move. Her limbs were disconnected from her will, heavy and useless. She just curled in on herself, shaking her head, the tears still coming, hot and furious against her cold skin. “I know,” he said, his voice surprisingly gentle for such a hard looking man in such a hard place. “I know this is a

Ezekiel stood on a narrow, hidden balcony carved into the rock high above the main courtyard, a place no one else in the Citadel even knew existed. The wind was a physical blow up here, a knife sharp gale that tore at his black cloak and whipped his hair across his face. He didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel the cold. All he felt was the searing, agonizing wrongness inside his chest. The bond. It was a parasite. A foreign body in his soul, a hot, infuriating wire connecting him to.... her. The white haired girl. The weak, trembling little creature with the scent of fear and rain clinging to her. He slammed his fist against the stone railing, the sound of knuckle striking a rock sharp crack in the wind’s howl. Pain was a distant echo, a memory of a sensation. His curse had taken that from him, too, along with everything else. But this bond.... this he felt. It was a constant, low grade fever, a pull, a maddening awareness o f her presence in his fortress. In his space. He could feel

She sat up, her heart pounding. the room was silent. Empty. But the feeling was back. Stronger this time. The hum of the bond was a distinct thrum in her blood, a resonant frequency that made the hairs on her arms stand up. He was close. She slid off the high bed, her bare feet silent on the cold stone. She was driven by an instinct she didn’t understand, a moth like pull toward a terrifying flame. She crept out of the bedchamber and into the main sitting area. The room was a vast cavern of shadows, the last vestiges of light from the window doing little to pierce the gloom. The door to the corridor was ajar, just a crack, the way Jax had left it. She found herself moving toward it, her breath held tight in her chest. She was terrified, but a strange, morbid curiosity compelled her forward. She just wanted to see. To understand. She reached the door and peered through the crack. The corridor outside was a long, straight passage, disappearing into absolute darkness in both direct

Another tray of food had appeared. Winter hadn’t heard anyone enter or leave. One moment, the table was bare; the next, a plate of cold, sliced meat, another apple, and a hunk of bread sat waiting. It was delivered by ghosts. Or by the scowling old woman, Elspeth, who moved like one. Winter hadn’t slept. Not really. she had drifted in a state of terrified, waking nightmares, every creak of the ancient Citadel sounding like his footstep outside her door. She had paced the vast, empty rooms until her feet were sore, a caged animal in a silent zoo. The feeling of being watched was a constant pressure against her skin. She was picking at the bread, her stomach too twisted with anxiety to properly eat, when the door opened. She jumped, her heart leaping into her throat, expecting him. It was Jax. The relief was so profound it almost made her dizzy. He looked tired, the skin under his eyes darker than it had been the day before. He was carrying a small, lumpy bundle of cloth. “Mornin