The Broken Wolf

(2) Elodie

My neck throbbed.

The bleeding had stopped on its own—thank the gods. But blood stained the front side of my white dress so I resembled more of a macabre bride. Which fit, given the circumstances.

“What have you done, foolish girl.” Selene’s expression was wild her eyes fitting between mine as if I might just conjure up some explanation for tonight. But between the blood loss and the shock I can’t seem to think. So, blinking at her I press the napkins tighter to my neck my eyes fitting across the room to where my ‘mate’ stands speaking with my father and the Grand Viceroy.

He's a tall man with jet black hair and eyes the color of freshly spilled ink. My blood still dots the area around his mouth as he speaks. He’d made no effort to clean it away seemingly unbothered.

I didn’t recognize him. An oddity considering mostly everyone tried to suck up to my father through me tonight. Then again, my first glimpse of him had been from the corner of my eye before the claiming.

I touched my fingers to my skin raw and red. It hurt.

“Have you finally lost your mind!” Selene shouts in a tone barely above a whisper gripping arm tight enough for her claws to pinch my skin. The pain was dull compared to the mate wound.

The party had resumed after the c*****e with various guests offering me their congratulations and recommendations on salve to soothe the mate mark. In the life of werewolves such impromptu acts were normal and often expected. After all how could wolves be denied their basic desires. But I was not a normal wolf and this was not a normal situation.

My eyes fitted back to my ‘mate’ to find his already on me. His dark gaze slide to my hand pressed against my neck and I lifted it to show that the bleeding had stopped. His eyes shifted back to mine and then blinked away as if he hadn’t been looking at all.

He seemed…disinterested bored. Not a promising sight considering our futures were now intwined.

Not that it was my choice. But given the alternative I suppose he’s not a terrible option.

“Elodie! Are you even listening to me?” Selene’s voice is a little louder, that coupled with her strong nails digging into my bicep has me giving her my full attention.

“I’m sorry.” I muttered eyes wide and innocent.

She scoffed dropping her hold to cross her arms, “Do you even know who that man is?”

Dominic De Leon, the rouge king. Alpha of the far lands leader of a pack of wolves so ruthless it is said they are one shift away from moon madness. Even among other Alphas he’s known as a mad man relentless, powerful, cruel. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants as evidenced by the many packs he’s subdued within the last few years.

I had the pinprick feeling of intuition at the base of my neck a swelling emotion that had me looking at him again. I was used to being on the receiving end of others peoples intentions but with my family the cards were always pretty straightforward. He was an enigma.

#

Dominic said nothing as the door shut softly behind him, his second standing guard outside for our moment of privacy. Selene had all but shoved me into the room a short while ago with instructions for me to wait. Not that I had anywhere to go anyways.

I trailed his approach eyes studying his strong steps as he stopped an inch away the tips of his shoes nearly grazing my toes in my heels. Wordlessly one large hand reaches up and tips my head to the right. Not as harshly as earlier, not gentle either. His finger dances around the crescent shape of the bite mark slowly healing on my neck.

If its anything like the usual mate marks it’ll scar, visible for all eyes to see. A permanent reminder that I now belong to this alpha.

Pressure pressed into the wound lightly and I let out an audible gasp. Eyes the color of midnight flit to mine even as his finger began to soothe.

Expression unreadable he studies me. Then his warmth and his touch fall away just as quickly as they appeared and he takes a decisive step back.

“What is your name.” He demands.

And even though I know he knows, even if he didn’t before, I tell him, “Elodie.”

He hums the sound laced with the low rumblings of a wolf. A shiver goes down my spine he seems to notice dark eyes flicking to my neck before they’re back again. “You’ll have one week and then I will come to collect you.”

Unceremoniously he turns away.

“Wait! Collect me?” I shouted stopping him. “Where are you—”

“To my pack.” He rumbled. “To Hollow Night lands.”