Mated To The Ice Werewolf King

Chapter 7

SERAPHINA

I don't know how many days I've been rotting in this cell when the guards finally come for me.

I've been demanding an audience with the Ice King for the past three days. At first, I tried reasoning with the guards, calm, logical arguments about why holding me is a mistake. My parents will find out eventually.

The Eastern Kingdom will demand my return. More bloodshed will follow, and this time it won't just be border skirmishes.

When reasoning didn't work, I started screaming. Demanding to see him. Refusing food. Making myself impossible to ignore.

If I can just talk to him, make him see that releasing me would prevent more deaths, maybe I can fix this. Maybe I can stop more soldiers from dying because of my choices.

But it's not just desperation driving me. Every night, I replay our last encounter, his hand on my throat, the way my body responded with heat instead of just fear.

The confusing arousal that flooded through me when he loomed over me in the doorway. Luna won't stop whimpering about it, pushing feelings at me that make no sense. She should hate him. We should both hate him.

Instead, she paces restlessly even through the weakness from the silver, and I catch myself pressing my fingers to my throat where I can still feel the phantom pressure of his hand.

I need answers. I need to understand why my traitorous body responded to him that way.

When the cell door finally opens, I scramble to my feet, ignoring the way my legs shake and my vision swims.

"Finally," I rasp. "I've been demanding to speak with your king for days. It's about time he—"

"You've been demanding an audience," one of the guards interrupts, his expression unreadable. "The King has decided to grant it."

Something in his tone makes my stomach drop, but I push the feeling aside. I won. I made enough noise that he had to acknowledge me. That has to count for something.

They unlock my chains from the wall ring and haul me to my feet. I try to walk with some semblance of dignity, but my legs are weak from days of barely moving, and I stumble more than once on the long climb up from the dungeons.

By the time we reach a room in the main keep, some kind of council chamber with a long table and scattered maps. I'm breathing hard, and my vision is spotted with darkness. But I force myself to stand straight, to lift my chin like the princess I am.

Kieran is already there, standing with his back to the door, looking out the window at the mountains beyond. He's dressed in the formal black and silver of the Northern Kingdom, a warrior's attire that speaks of power and authority. When he hears us enter, he doesn't turn around immediately.

And even from across the room, I feel it, that pull, that inexplicable draw that makes Luna surge weakly in my mind.

"Him," she whimpers. "I want to go to him."

"Shut up," I mutter, but my heart is already racing.

"Leave us," he orders the guards.

They obey, and the sound of the lock clicking into place echoes in the sudden silence.

For a long moment, he just stands there, his back rigid, his hands clasped behind him. I can see the tension in his shoulders, in the set of his spine.

Luna stirs weakly in my mind, whimpering at his proximity.

"Something's wrong," she whispers. "I can feel it.."

"Finally," I say, my voice hoarse but defiant. "I've been trying to reach you for days. You need to listen; holding me here is a mistake. When my parents find out, they'll demand my return. And if you refuse, more people will die. But if you release me now, send me back, we can—"

"Save your breath." His voice is cold, cutting through my words.

He turns then, and the look in his ice-blue eyes stops the words in my throat. There's something final in his expression, something that makes my blood run cold. "I didn't bring you here to be convinced. I brought you here to inform you of your sentence."

The bottom drops out of my stomach. "My sentence?"

"Public execution." The words are delivered with cold precision. "Three days' time. In the main courtyard."

For a moment, I can't process the words. Then disbelief crashes over me, followed immediately by white-hot rage.

"You—" I can barely get the words out. "You think you have the right to execute me?"

"I'm the king. I have every right."

"You have no right!" I scream at him, my body shaking with fury.

"Careful, Princess." His voice is deadly quiet.

"Why?" I bark, anger flowing through my blood. "What are you going to do, execute me, you bastard?"

The moment the words leave my mouth, I see his control shatter.

He's across the room in an instant, grabbing my wrists with both hands. "How dare you—"

And then the world explodes.

Heat races up my arms, spreading through my entire body like wildfire. It's the same sensation from the dungeon but magnified a thousand times, burning, overwhelming, impossible to ignore.

My breath catches, and I see his eyes widen in shock. His grip tightens on my wrists, not painful but possessive, and suddenly I can't think about anything except how right his hands feel on my skin.

Luna surges forward with more strength than she's had in days, practically throwing herself at my consciousness.

"MATE!"

The word crashes through my mind like thunder, reverberating in every cell of my body. And I can see it in Kieran's eyes, his wolf is roaring the same thing.

"No," he breathes, but his hands don't leave my wrists. If anything, his grip tightens. "No, that's not—"

Everything makes sense now.

The wolves have been screaming about it from the beginning, and we were both too angry, too stubborn, to hear them.

"This can't be happening." Kieran's voice is strangled, desperate. His hands are still on my wrists, his thumbs pressing against my racing pulse. "You can't be my mate. Not you. Anyone but you."

"The feeling is mutual," I manage to say, even though my entire body is singing at his touch. "You think I want to be mated to a man who's planning to execute me?"

His eyes flash. "You think I want to be mated to the woman who destroyed everything I've worked for? Who got my men killed?"

"Then let me go!" I try to pull away, but his grip is iron. "If you hate having me as a mate so much, just release me and let me leave!"

"I can't!" The words explode from him, and suddenly, he's pulling me closer instead of pushing me away. "Don't you understand? I can't let you go. My wolf won't allow it. He's demanding I claim you, mark you, keep you safe—"

He yanks me forward and his mouth crashes onto mine.

The kiss is nothing like I imagined a first kiss would be. It's not gentle or sweet or romantic. It's desperate, almost violent, like he's trying to consume me. His lips are rough against mine, demanding, and when I gasp in shock, his tongue sweeps into my mouth.

And gods help me, I kiss him back.

Luna is howling in triumph, pushing feelings at me that make my entire body ignite. Want. Need. Mine. The bond is singing between us, and every place our bodies touch feels like it's on fire.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, he tears himself away.

We're both breathing hard, staring at each other in shock. His lips are swollen from the kiss, his ice-blue eyes wild with something between hunger and horror.