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1079 Words
Claus’s POV
He sat on the throne as he stared around, fists clenched, jaw tight.
The crowd still roared in his ears, even though the hall had long since fallen silent. Their cries of “witch”, “death”, and “betrayer” echoed like ghosts in his skull. And there she was on her knees, trembling, yet staring up at him with those wide, glassy eyes that refused to let him breathe.
Katherina.
Whatever she chose to hide behind, it didn’t matter.
His mind screamed for justice.
His wolf begged for mercy.
He was torn between killing her and exiling her.
What should he do? Jos mind was in turmoil.
"You should kill her," one of the elders had whispered. "Sixteen wolves, Alpha. Our children. Our warriors."
Claus’s jaw tightened.
His wolf snarled inside him.
Touch her, and we die with her.
Claus rose slowly, his cloak trailing behind him like shadows that clung to his every step. He could feel the weight of every gaze, the tension, the hunger for blood. He walked toward her.
His mate.
The woman who had once humiliated him before the entire pack, before the gods, before the moon itself.
And yet, as he looked at her now…she was still the same.
The same old woman he had known back then.
Flawless.
Ethereal.
Her scent masked with oils, but even that couldn’t stop his instincts from clawing toward her.
His wolf still whispered the same word in his ears, relentless and raw.
Mate.
He stopped before her, gaze boring into hers.
"Stand."
She flinched but obeyed, rising slowly on unsteady feet.
“I should exile you,” he murmured low, only for her ears. “Or slit your throat before the pack and let them feed on your bones.”
Her lips parted in a silent gasp, eyes wide. She was scared and it was evident in her eyes. She was showing him how scared she was without they ng to hide it. He felt terrible seeing her in that state and he didn't want to feel that way. Maybe doing this one thing he had decided would actually make him feel better.
She deserved another chance at life. She was too young to be killed just like that. He would give her another way to prove to him she didn't do all the things she is being accused of, and mere words wouldn't be enough.
“But I won’t.”
Murmurs rose behind him, disbelief brewing.
“She deserves to burn!”
“She’s cursed!”
“Alpha, you can’t be serious...”
“I said,” Claus snapped, turning to face them all, “I will not kill her.”
The room stilled, stunned into confusion. Mumurs could be heard around.
He turned to the council, to the elders and warriors who had fought beside him for years.
“To kill her is to risk the wrath of the Luna gods. We can't just sentece one to die just because we suspect she did skmething. We can't handle the anger of the moon goddess.”
“She’s your mate?” one elder asked in disbelief.
Claus nodded, his voice a quiet growl. “And I will marry her.”
Chaos erupted.
“She rejected you once!”
“She’s a liar!”
“She’ll bring ruin!”
Claus held up a single hand, and the room fell to a tense hush.
“The ceremony will be in three nights. Prepare the grounds. Have the seamstress dress her for royalty. If anyone stands against this…” His eyes swept the room, cold and deadly. “Challenge me. Or be silent forever.”
No one moved.
No one dared.
****
That night, the palace felt heavier than ever. Even the stone walls seemed to carry judgment.
Claus sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the glass of wine in his hand but not drinking.
Behind him, she lay curled beneath the furs, her breathing shallow, steady. He hadn't touched her again...not since the night she begged for her life and he’d nearly torn her soul apart with his rage.
He wanted her.
But he also hated her.
He hated how she made him feel.
He stripped down and lay beside her, not touching her, just listening to the sound of her breathing and the pleasant silence between them.
His eyes drifted shut.
Rain.
Thunder.
He stood beneath the great moon tree, dressed in ceremonial white, his armor left behind for the most sacred of nights. His wolf was calm. His heart was steady.
She was late.
But she would come.
He looked toward the crowd. His people were gathered, dressed in silver and black, smiling with pride. His Luna was about to be named. Finally, he would be complete.
Then he saw her.
She stepped onto the pulpit, veil in hand. Her dress trailed behind her like starlight. She walked toward him, eyes unreadable.
He smiled. “You’re late.”
She didn’t answer.
“Katherina,” he said. “You came.”
Her voice was soft, barely audible. “I’m sorry.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She turned to the crowd.
“I cannot marry this man.”
Gasps.
Whispers.
“Katherina, what are you...”
“You all believe he is perfect,” she said, louder now. But he is cruel. Merciless. This pack will never know peace with him as Alpha.”
He reached for her. “No...stop.”
She backed away. “I choose to leave.”
The veil slipped from her fingers. She ran. Down the steps, past the stunned crowd. Gone.
He stood frozen in the pulpit, humiliated. Betrayed.
The moon turned red above him.
His wolf howled in agony.
.........
Claus jolted awake, barely able to catch his breath.
Sweat coated his chest, and the room spun for a moment.
The dream again.
The betrayal.
The pulpit.
Her eyes.
His hands clenched into fists.
It wasn’t going to happen again.
He sat up, swung his legs over the bed, and stared at the wall, his voice a low whisper to no one.
“This time… it ends my way.”
He turned to glance at her, curled in sleep, fragile and harmless.
His gaze lingered on the curve of her shoulder, the soft rise of her chest. The mark he left was still branded on her skin.
She wouldn’t run again.
He wouldn’t give her the chance.
- Writer
