The Feral King’s Forbidden Mate

LIN’S POV It had been exactly one hundred days since my father sold me like a used car to pay off his gambling debts. For one hundred days, I’d been Ricardo’s favorite toy, his little secret kept in the dark corners of the Black Fang pack house. Last night, he’d been all over me, his hands bruising my hips as he drove into me until my lungs burned and my skin was raw. He’d made me believe—just for a heartbeat—that being his mate actually meant something. That maybe, even without a wolf of my own, I was enough for him. But today Ricardo was bored. "Don’t look away, Lin," he commanded, his voice a low, cruel rasp. "I told you to watch. This is how a real she-wolf takes it." I couldn't move. My wrists were locked into heavy silver shackles, chained to the arms of a mahogany chair in the corner of his sprawling suite. The silver stung, a constant, dull throb against my skin, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the scene on the oversized bed. Ricardo was flanked by two she-wolves, their bodies slick with sweat and arousal. The room was thick with the suffocating, musky scent of s*x—a heavy, cloying perfume that made my stomach churn and my pulse hammer in my throat. He was behind the blonde, Sadie, his large hands buried in her hair as he pulled her head back, exposing her throat. The sound was what killed me most. The wet, rhythmic slap-slap-slap of skin hitting skin filled the silence of the room. It was a visceral, squelching sound, the unmistakable noise of his thick length sliding in and out of her, bottoming out with a heavy thud that shook the bedframe. "f**k! You’re so tight, Sadie," Ricardo grunted, his breath coming in ragged, animalistic bursts. "Please... more," she whimpered, her back arching, her fingers clawing at the silk sheets. Smack. The sharp, stinging sound of a spank echoed through the room, leaving a bright red handprint on her thigh. I flinched, but I couldn't look away. I was forced to witness every wet thrust, every moan, every dirty word he whispered into her ear—the same words he’d whispered to me twelve hours ago. The worst part wasn't the humiliation. It was the traitorous reaction of my own body. Despite the rage screaming in my head, my core was throbbing. A dangerous, liquid heat was pooling between my legs, making my panties heavy and soaked. I could feel the slickness coating my inner thighs, a honey-thick evidence of my own desperation. My n*****s were painfully hard, rubbing against the thin lace of my chemise with every shallow breath I took. I was drowning in it—the sound of his grunts, the sight of his muscles rippling as he drove into her with raw, dominating power. I wanted him to stop, but God, I wanted him to touch me. I wanted him to turn that dark, focused hunger on me again. I was a mess, a sobbing, soaking mess of a girl who had no pride left. "Look at her, Ricardo," the other girl, Gina, giggled, reaching out to stroke Ricardo’s arm while he continued to pump into Sadie. "She’s dripping. The little human toy wants a turn." Ricardo flicked his dark, emotionless eyes toward me. He didn't slow down. If anything, the slapping sounds grew louder, more frantic. "She’s a debt, Gina. And debts don't get turns. They just get used." I bit my tongue until I tasted copper, my head spinning from the scent of him and the sound of his slick, heavy friction. I hated myself. I hated that I was a "wolfless" freak who couldn't even control her own arousal. Then, something shifted. It started as a low vibration in the base of my spine. It wasn't the heat of lust; it was a white-hot spark of pure, unadulterated rage. Ours, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. It wasn't my voice. It was deeper. Sharper. It sounded like the grinding of tectonic plates. The air in the room suddenly felt heavy, like the pressure before a lightning strike. The two she-wolves stopped mid-moan, their heads snapping up as they sniffed the air, their eyes widening with primal fear. Ricardo slowed his pace, his brow furrowing as he stared at me. "Lin?" he muttered, his playfulness vanishing into confusion. "What is that smell?" I didn't answer. I couldn't. The spark in my spine exploded into a forest fire. My bones felt like they were melting and resetting all at once. The silver shackles that had held me for hours suddenly felt like paper. Snap. The sound of the silver links shattering echoed like a gunshot. The room went dead silent. Ricardo scrambled off the bed, his naked c**k, slick and glistening in the evening light. He stared at the broken chains dangling from my wrists, his face pale. I stood up, my legs feeling longer, stronger, vibrating with a power I’d never known. My wolf was right there, just beneath the surface, her fur pure white and her eyes the color of a winter storm. I didn't look at the girls. I didn't even look at Ricardo. I just walked toward the door, my movements fluid and lethal. "Lin, sit down!" Ricardo roared, his Alpha command hitting the air. It felt like a mosquito buzz. I didn't even flinch. I reached the heavy oak doors, shoved them open with a strength that cracked the wood, and stepped out into the hallway. I was going to run. I was going to leave this hell and never look back. But I didn't get five feet. The scent of the hallway—usually a mix of floor wax and old stone—was suddenly obliterated by the smell of a thunderstorm. Ozone, damp earth, and a raw, terrifying power that made every hair on my body stand up. I slammed into a chest that felt like a wall of solid granite. I looked up, my breath hitching. The man standing over me looked like a ghost returned to life. His beard was thick and shot through with silver, his hair longer and wilder than any man I’d seen in the pack. He wasn't wearing a suit; he wore heavy furs and worn leather, looking more like a mountain man than a King. But the power rolling off him was suffocating. I’d heard the stories. Alpha Moses Osborn. The Alpha King. The man who had gone feral after his mate's death five years ago and vanished into the wild. His eyes were bloodshot and wild, flickering between gold and pitch black. He looked like he was one second away from tearing the throat out of anyone who crossed his path. "Father!" Ricardo stumbled out of the room, nearly naked, his skin still flushed from the s*x. He reached out and grabbed my arm roughly, trying to pull me back. "The b***h…she shifted. She’s mine, I bought her…" Ricardo stopped mid-sentence, his voice dying in his throat as he finally registered what he just called the man standing in front of us. "F-father?" Ricardo stammered, his hand shaking where it gripped my skin. Several maids who had been cleaning nearby stopped in their tracks, dropping their linens. The two she-wolves from the bed huddled in the doorway, trembling. Alpha Moses didn't look at his son. His golden eyes remained locked on mine, tracking the way my pulse jumped in my neck. He reached out, his large, calloused hand moving with a speed that was impossible to follow. He didn't just grab my hand; he claimed it. The moment his skin touched mine, a jolt of pure, forbidden electricity shot through my entire body. It was an explosion of sensation that made my already soaked core throb with a new, agonizing intensity. My wolf didn't just howl. She bowed. Mate. Alpha Moses’s nostrils flared as he inhaled my scent—the scent of a wolf finally woken, mixed with the raw, heavy musk of my arousal. His eyes turned entirely black, a low, territorial growl vibrating deep in his chest that made the floorboards hum. He pulled me flush against his hard, fur-clad body, his grip possessive and absolute. He looked at Ricardo, then at the women, then at the stunned maids. "She was wearing chains, Ricardo," Moses growled, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that felt like a physical caress. "You used my mate to settle a debt?" "Father, no, she…" "Silence!" Moses roared, the power in his voice making everyone in the hallway drop to their knees—except me. He looked down at me, his face inches from mine, his dark gaze burning with a hunger that was five years in the making. "Mine," he rasped, his voice echoing through the hall like a decree. "She is mine." Before I could breathe, he swept me off my feet and began walking toward the royal wing, leaving his stunned son bleeding and broken in the hallway.