taming the beast

claimed by the lycan

Chapter 3:

As we drew near the gates to the compound slid apart, and even their immense weight sounded no louder than a sigh as they parted. Guards snapped to attention on either side of the entryway, their weapons lowered but held poised. None of them so much as flicked an eye in my direction; they kept their focus on Dante and each one of them had the same look, a mixture of blind devotion and pure terror.

"Boss." One of them bowed his head as we passed, his voice trembling slightly.

Dante ignored him and continued to drag me into the compound as if I weighed nothing at all-an impossibility on my own terms, but perfectly understandable for a Lycan who'd just torn apart eight wolves with his bare hands.

Ahead of us the compound's main building rose above the tree line, an all-glass, all-steel testament to sheer, raw wealth. And it was a testament indeed. Light blazed from every window, and even from this distance I could hear the bustle and murmur of people within.

"How many live here?" I asked.

"Seventy-three." Dante opened the main door. "Family, soldiers, staff. Everyone who directly reports to me."

Seventy-three people all housed together. My pack had been about a hundred and twenty, but we'd been scattered over several buildings.

The inside knocked me backwards with the force of a punch. It was utterly and obscenely decadent-marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and paintings on the walls that looked as if they were worth more than my life was worth. Figures in black moved purposefully across the floor of the main lobby, each of them armed, each one halting as Dante came in and immediately dropping their gaze, bowing their heads slightly.

Again, not one of them looked at me, but I felt their eyes on me, felt them assessing my appearance-the tattered dress, the blood staining me, the gross, protruding weight of me being paraded so openly. A hot blush spread through me, bringing with it a burning sense of humiliation."Dante!" A female voice sliced through the quiet. She appeared from the top of the main staircase, impossibly tall and elegant in a black pantsuit with her dark hair scraped back in a severe bun. Her eyes were the exact same gold as Dante's. Family. "Where the hell have you been? We've been trying to reach you for-" she stopped short, taking in my appearance and me. Her nostrils flared slightly. "Who is this?"

"Vera." Dante's grip on my hand tightened. "She needs medical attention. Get Elena."

"Dante, we need to discuss the-"

"Now, Sofia." His voice dropped into something dark and dangerous. "Get Elena now."

Sofia's jaw tightened but she nodded, pulling out her phone. She rattled off rapid-fire Italian into it before turning back to us. "She is on her way. But Dante, the Volkov bratva called again. They want an answer regarding-"

"Later." He started moving again, pulling me toward the stairs. "Everything else can wait."

We ascended three flights. My legs burned but I made no protest. The air around us pulsed with barely contained violence. Men cleaning weapons in plain sight of open rooms, men counting stacks of cash in doorways, men arguing in myriad languages. This wasn't a home. This was a headquarters. A war room.

Dante led me down a corridor of doors until he stopped in front of the last one at the end. He opened it and gestured me inside.

I stepped into a world of luxury I'd never imagined could exist.

The room was immense, larger than the entire omega quarters I'd left behind. An enormous bed dominated one wall, swathed in silk sheets that likely cost thousands. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on the forest we had just left behind. A sitting area with what looked like an unused couch stood near them, as did a desk with a computer and two other doors which I assumed led to a bathroom and closet.

"This is..." I had no words. "I can't stay here. It's too much."

"You can, and you will." Dante finally let go of my hand and went to pull the drapes shut. "The bathroom is in that room. There should be clothes in the closet that fit you."

"I don't understand." I pulled my arms tighter around myself, suddenly aware of the dirt, the blood, the torn fabric. "Why are you helping me? You don't even know me."

He turned and his golden eyes pinned me. "You were on my land, being attacked by rogues. That made it my business."

"That doesn't warrant giving me a room like this. Or..." I waved a hand vaguely at the opulence surrounding me. "I should be in a guest room, or servant's quarters, or something. Not here."

"This is my wing of the house." The words hung between us. "This room is directly across from mine. You will be safe here."

Before I could process that, a knock came at the door. Dante opened it to reveal a short, plump, middle-aged woman with kind eyes and her gray hair braided down her back. "Elena." Dante stood aside, letting her in. "She's been attacked. Check her over. Everything."

Elena's eyes widened when they landed on me, not in revulsion, but concern. "Oh, you poor child. Come, sit. Let me see you."

I perched nervously on the edge of the couch, afraid I'd stain it with my blood and dirt. Elena dropped to her knees in front of me, her hands surprisingly gentle as she began to assess my injuries. Behind her, Dante stood with his arms crossed, watching.

"These need to be cleaned," Elena murmured, pulling sterile supplies from her bag. "The bruises will heal on their own, but I'll give you something for the pain. Did they-" she paused delicately. "Did they hurt you anywhere else?"

"No." My voice was rough with relief. "He stopped them before they could.”Elena cast a glance back at Dante that held something akin to admiration, then her gaze settled back on the cuts on my arms as she began to clean them. The antiseptic burned, but I clenched my jaw and kept silent.

“You’re severely malnourished.” Elena’s brow was furrowed. “When did you last eat properly?”

I had no idea. In the weeks preceding the ceremony, I had practically lived on salad and water while working myself sick trying to fit into the gown for Daemon. “I… don’t remember.”

“I’ll have room service bring something up.” Dante pulled out his phone and typed something rapidly. “Is there anything else?”

“She needs to rest.” Elena finished cleaning and dressing my arms, then took a closer look at my face, tilting it up with her fingers to inspect it. “The swelling will go down in a few days. Ice will help. You’re very lucky that he found you when he did.”

“I know.”

Elena packed up her supplies, then rose from the couch. “I’ll come check on you tomorrow morning. If you need anything before then, you can always call.” She pressed a card with a phone number into my hand. “Anytime, day or night.”

After she left, the silence returned. Dante still stood watching me, his gaze unreadable. His face was hard, carved from stone, but his eyes- those burn gold eyes- held an expression I couldn’t place.

“Thank you,” I murmured. “For everything. For saving me. For… this.” I gestured at the room. “I don’t deserve-”

“Stop.” His command was sharp and cut through the quiet. “Don’t you ever tell me what you don’t deserve.”

“But-”

“Whoever dumped you was a fool.” He said it like a fact, like there was no room for argument. “You will stay here until you are healed. Until you are safe. And no one, not a single soul, will hurt you while you are under my protection. Do you understand?”

I nodded, my throat tight. I didn’t understand anything. Didn't understand why this dangerous Lycan crime lord wanted me- a fat, unwanted she-wolf, in his care. But I was too exhausted to question him any further.

There was another knock at the door. This time it was a young man with a tray bearing a mountain of food-pasta, bread, fruit, cheese, all smelling incredibly delicious and causing my stomach to cramp with hunger.

“Place it on the desk.” Dante ordered. The man placed it on the desk by the wall and left in a hurry.

Dante picked up the tray and brought it to me, setting it down on the coffee table before the couch. “Eat.”

“I can’t-”

“That wasn’t a request.” He knelt in front of me, so we were eye to eye. “You are in my house now, Vera. My rules. Rule number one- you eat. All of it.”

“I can’t eat all that, I’m on a diet, I need to lose-”

“No.” The word was iron. “You are not on a diet. Look at you. You are running on empty. Eat.”

Something in his tone made my wolf stir. She nudged at the edges of my consciousness, urging me to trust him, to obey him.

I reached for the fork with trembling fingers and took a bite of pasta. It was divine, better than any food I’d eaten in months, and before I could think any more about it I was eating like I hadn’t tasted a single thing for six months, stuffing it down as quickly as I could. I was, of course, starving. I had been starving myself for the last six months for Daemon, and it hadn’t even mattered. He’d rejected me anyway.

My tears were already falling onto my plate, mingling with the marinara sauce.

“Hey.” Dante’s hand covered mine, stopping the fork inches from my mouth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, everything, I don’t know.” Words tumbled out. “I tried so hard. I did everything he asked of me. I starved myself, I worked out until I dropped, I studied Luna duties until I couldn’t see straight and he… he still…” My voice cracked. Dante’s hand squeezed mine, and then it hit me.

The bond snapped into place like lightning striking the same place twice.

It was like a searing inferno crashing through my chest, hot and fierce and undeniable. Every nerve ending in my body ignited. My wolf exploded through the boundaries of my consciousness, roaring with pure joy and recognition for the first time since the rejection. Mate. Mate. MATE.

I gasped, dropping the fork with a clatter onto the plate. Dante’s eyes widened, and I knew he felt it too. The bond between us blazing like fire between the two of us, gold and pure and so strong it burned.

“No.” I yanked my hand away from his and scrambled backward on the couch, pulling my knees to my chest. “No, no, no, no, no, this can’t be happening.”

“Vera-”

“I can’t do this again!” My voice cracked and turned into a shriek. “I can’t be rejected again. I can’t-” Panic constricted my chest, making breathing nearly impossible. “Please don’t- please don’t-”

Dante raised both hands, slowly backing away. His face became carefully blank, but his eyes… his eyes still burned with recognition. He felt it, the mate bond. The second chance the Moon Goddess bestowed upon rejected she-wolves. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t survive being rejected again. This male was a king, a Lycan, strong, powerful, dangerous and perfect. And I was… I was nothing. Fat and broken and worthless. He would figure it out soon enough, just like Daemon had. And when he rejected me-

“Breathe.” Dante’s voice was quiet, calm. “Just breathe. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You will.” Tears streamed down my face. “Everyone does.”

Something flickered across his face-pain, perhaps, or anger, but his voice was still calm when he finally spoke. “I need you to listen to me very carefully. You are safe here. Whatever you felt just now-” He stopped, his jaw tightening. “We don’t have to discuss it. Not tonight. Not until you are ready.”

“You felt it too.” It wasn’t a question.

He met my gaze steadily. “Yes. I felt it too.”

“So now what? You kick me out? Tell me I’m not good enough to be your mate? That I’m too-”

“You will sleep.” He cut me off, his voice again taking on the commanding edge it had earlier. “You will eat. You will heal. And tomorrow, we will discuss everything else. But for now, you need rest.”

“I can’t just-”

“Yes, you can.” He stepped toward the door. “This room locks from the inside. No one can get in without your explicit consent. Not even me. You are safe here, Vera. I swear it.”

He left before I could protest further, closing the door with a soft click. I sat alone in the plush room, surrounded by the riches I had only dreamed of, with a full stomach for the first time in months, my chest aching with a brand new mate bond to a Lycan crime lord who had just promised me that I was safe.

I wasn't sure if I should cry or laugh. I ended up doing both.