My Mate, King Of The North.

The Ruthless.

June's Pov.

Darkness.

It felt endless like I was drowning, but there was no water, no struggle, just this numb feeling. Then, a sound. Tire screeching. Glasses shattering. A scream escaped from my mouth, but it wasn't like any scream I had ever heard before.

I gasped, jolting up from whatever dream I was having like someone who they had just poured cold water on. I tried to pace my breathing and the fast beating of my heart.

What had just happened?

The room around me was dim, softly lit by the candlelight that sat on a small coffee table. The air smelled like lavender and honey, calming in a strange, unfamiliar way.

“Where…..” I felt a sharp headache, which made me whine a little. “Where am I?”

“Ohh dear, Thank the moon goddess” the voice was a woman's, trembling with relief. She was older, her hair streaked with grey lines, styled into a neat up-bun, her lips unpainted. She wore an outfit that had many ruffles on the down and a corset belt around the waist region.

Tears streamed down her face as she took my hands into hers, holding it tightly like I was going to slip away.

“Gwendolyn, my darling, you frightened me!” She sobbed, her voice filled with emotions.

“What were you thinking? Jumping into the river, knowing you can't swim”

Gwendolyn?

Who was Gwendolyn? And what river does she mean? I was in an accident a few moments ago, if I'm not mistaken. And what was I doing here? It wasn't looking like a hospital.

“Gwendolyn” she called out again.

That wasn't my name. My name was June Parker. Thirty years old cancer patient and also a grieving mother, not to mention a divorcee.

“I–I don't…..” I struggled to speak, my throat was tight. I snap my hands away from hers while my eyes wander around the room. Everything was unfamiliar. The pieces of furniture, the thick drapes, it all felt strange.

“Gwen, are you alright? Should I call the healers?” The woman's brow furrowed, and her eyes were filled with concern.

“I'm not…. I'm not her,” I whispered, more to myself than to her.

“What are you saying?” She held my hands again.

I forcefully removed it from her grip. “I'm not Gwendolyn.”

“Sweetheart, you must still be confused. Maybe you're still in shock, but it's alright; you're safe and at home right now. It's all that matters”

Home?

No, this wasn't home. My home was a life in ruins—-a broken marriage, terminal illness, a lost child. This place….it didn't belong to me.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the cook, polished floor. The reflection in the mirror caught my eye, and I froze.

That wasn't me.

The woman in the mirror had delicate features, flawless porcelain skin, and hair gold-like and full, flowing over her shoulders. She was beautiful, almost ethereal, and completely unfamiliar.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as if I could undo what I was seeing. “This can't be real”

“Gwendolyn?” The woman called out softly, stepping forward.

“Stay back” I snapped. “Please stay back”

“Are you all right?” Her voice was softer now, but there was this hint of fear in it.

“I'm not her,” I said, my voice shaking. “I'm not.. this isn't my body. This woman in the mirror isn't me”

The woman stepped closer, her hands stretched out as she took me into her embrace. Stroking my hair as if she was trying to calm a frightened puppy.

“Gwendolyn, please. You've been through so much, just breathe. Everything will be all right.”

But it wouldn't be. Because this wasn't just some dream, or was I hallucinating? This was real. Too real.

“You're Gwendolyn Thane, my daughter”

I swallowed hard, my throat tight as I realized. A few hours before the accident, at the doctor's office, I was reading a novel that Maria had lent me to pass the time. A tale of Gwendolyn Thane, the doomed bride of an Alpha king. She was destined to suffer, to die at the hands of her ruthless husband, The Hawthorne.

I was her. The one meant to marry Hadrian Hawthorne, the monster of the story.

And he was coming for me… for her.

I pulled myself away from the woman's arms.

“I'm not Gwendolyn Thane, neither am I your daughter,” I snapped, my voice rising with panic. “This isn't real. None of this is real”

The doors flung open, and a man stepped into the room, his presence commanding and suffocating all at once. He was talking, his broad frame wrapped in a dark cloak that only added to his dark cold aura. His sharp features were set on a cold mask, and his piercing eyes locked on me with an intensity that made my blood run cold.

“Is my bride ready?” He asked, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

The woman rose quickly, her hands clasped nervously as she gave a slight bow. “Alpha, she's still recovering. Perhaps another day…”

“No.” His gaze never left mine as he strode closer; each step he took sent bile to my throat, which I struggled to swallow down.

“Please Alpha, we just rescued her from the river. The healers had requested that she heal before she could journey with you to the North”

The North?

Oh, good gracious, the North was the execution ground where Gwendolyn Thane would suffer and be treated no better than a roadside beggar before she dies by this cold-blooded monster.

Another man rushed in, a bit elderly this one and he gave a slight bow before taking his stand beside the woman who was unsure of how to convince this monster.

“Please, Alpha, do take pity on our daughter's fragile body and come back in a week. By then she'll be prepared to journey with you, I'm happy to ask one of the servants to prepare the outhouse for you to rest”

“I said no” His voice silenced the room, his gaze still locked on me. “My Bride is coming with me Tonight”