The Alpha King's Last Chance Mate

Zephyra Everyone is in order, our heads bowed, our hands held in front of us, when the undead Alpha King walks in with heavy and slow steps. No one dares to make a noise with their breath; no one dares to move but me… Well, an urge to take a peep gnaws at me. I unwittingly oblige but catch Alpha Draven's defined grey eyes on me. Fear ices my heart. Looking away, I slowly drag my gaze from his hair shrouded by his cloak, his masked face, his gloved hands to his heavy boots, then to the cemented floor. The dauntless tyrant looks like a formidable wizard, exactly how I imagined when I heard rumors about his looks. Some claim he has a skeleton face, while others believe a different wolf is using his identity to earn wealth and respect. While we're uncertain about what's behind the mask, the story of how he became a warlord never changed. It all began when he was born. Raised by his liberal father after killing his mother during childbirth, he killed his father on his tenth birthday when he wolfed out. The six great packs, including Howling Pack, Father's Pack, came up with a plot to restore peace and order, which was achieved through his death. The plan was successful; the six alphas saw him die, yet, mystically, here he is in the flesh, walking to Father, who has a plastic smile on his face as he welcomes the devil incarnate into his pack. “Welcome, my King.” Father bows further, his voice shaky, knowing death is lurking around him whenever the undead Alpha Draven is near. “Trust you had a good ride.” Still inclined, he motions towards the stairs. “This way, my king.” A few maids begin to fall out of the line to walk behind Alpha Draven, his two officials, and Father, but suddenly stop when Alpha Draven does. He looks in my direction and points. “You.” His voice is hoarse and amplified by the mask. His finger crooks. “Follow me. You will serve me personally.” Tensed by his order, my heart finds it difficult to breathe, and I remain in my stance, pretending I'm not the one he's referring to while wishing a servant would walk out in my stead. Father hurries to stand in front of me to block me off from Alpha Draven. “That one, my king, is nothing b—” His strong arm collides with Father's arm, tossing him to the floor, and no one dares to exclaim in shock. He quickly picks himself up and inclines. Before Alpha Draven's dark gaze settles on me, a female warrior wraps her hand around my nape and propels me forward. “I will have your hand once Alpha Draven is done with you.” The dwarf who came with Alpha Draven walks to my space in the line and sniffs more than once, then walks to me and sniffs. “What is it?” Alpha Draven asks in a raspy voice. The dwarf looks at my puzzled face. “Still observing.” With the other servants, I walk behind the pack of nobles into a great room. When Alpha Draven settles on a couch with his leg crossed over the other, I kneel beside him, take the jar right on his side of the table, and tip it over, pouring him wine. Just the way I was taught a few weeks ago. His female soldier stands next to his seat after keeping a seal on the table. “I was hoping you would come with my daughter,” Father begins, even though his daughter is here, pretending to be a servant. “Why did she not come? I trust she is with child. I shall be grandsir—” “She is dead,” he cuts in with a sharp and stoic voice. His words hit me with a shock, and I shudder, causing the wine to spill. Quickly, I bow my head to the ground and implore in a trembling voice, “Your servant deserves to be punished.” “Stupid maid!” Father scolds, forgetting he should be mourning my poor handmaid who sacrificed her life by disguising herself as his daughter to marry Alpha Draven. “Guards! Take this witless thrall from my sight and give her ten stripes.” Two guards rush to me but freeze at the hard stare of Alpha Draven. “If any shall choose, it must be me,” he says. “Rise.” I do. “Thank you, my king.” I take out the rag tucked into my gown and clean the table, my hands trembling due to the heartrending news. I sniffle softly with tears staining my eyes as I remember when she was departing with glistening eyes and a smile on her innocent face. “You must have been close to Lady Zephyra.” He's observing me with his intent gaze. I nod, cleaning my tears. “She was a nice she-wolf.” Father sniffles noisily, and it makes me cringe. “Forgive me. I should not do this. What will my folks do if I fall?” Father scoffs and shakes his head ardently. “Let's drink. You must be parched.” He takes his wine and downs the whole contents. “Bring me the writ that I may seal it, for I'll not waste another breath in this place.” He looks around the room, then at the two guards. “Why do I see few guards?” “Ah, they are in the field, training.” He motions at the maid by his side for more wine, then at Alpha Draven's untouched wine. “Please, for I shall not bring the writ until you have this best wine with me.” He leans into his seat and looks at me. “Taste it.” His order surprises me. Did Father cast a spell on Alpha Draven? I pour in a small cup, tilt my body towards my father to take a drink when I notice his worried look at me. He nods slightly, as if assuring me to take the wine, which I did even though I'm clueless about his expression. I scrunch up my face at the bittersweet taste and wipe my mouth with the back of my palm, wondering what's going on. All I know is that Alpha Draven would visit and make an allegiance agreement with Father. Nothing more. Nothing less. After I give him the wine, his soldier removes his mask. I keep my head inclined, not interested in looking at the face of the murderer. I should have known the same fate waited for her at that pack after the death of his other five wives. I bite my inner lip at the regret I feel. “Fetch me that writ,” Father orders one of his guards with a smirk on his face. “My king shall soon grant me the honor with his allegiance.” Alpha Draven is handing the cup to me when the dwarf walks in and takes my hand and sniffs me up to my neck. “How does a lowborn smell like a noble?” “Alpha Godric, would you like to explain what's happening in your pack?” The dwarf walks to Father with his head c****d. “Leave it be, Lockwood.” Alpha Draven leans from the seat, a bit restless. “What's taking your guard so long?” “Your death, my king.” Father's smirk widens as the door snaps open and battalions of soldiers troop in, surrounding the Alpha Draven and his officials. Father pushes to his feet and drags my shocked frame to his side, examining me. “You will be fine. The bane was on the surface of the wine.” The bane? Father poisoned the undead Alpha King? My eyes widen as I snap my gaze at Alpha Draven, who's still seated, looking unbothered with his two officials in a defensive stance. “I hope you die for good this time, my—”