Hated and His to Claim

Chapter 3

VLADIMIR

The scent of blood still clung to me—a sweet, metallic perfume of victory. The cheers of my pack echoed faintly, distant and irrelevant. As I stepped from the car, I didn’t acknowledge Craig’s bowed head or his eager praise.

I was an Alpha—not a king in need of worship. My presence alone was enough.

Jax, my wolf, was restless in my mind, not with celebration, but with fixation. A memory flashed—silver eyes, wide with confidence and fear. The battlefield had been loud. But in that moment, it fell into silence.

I remembered it too clearly. I’d shot a Risemoon warrior—his body dropped with a heavy thud—and then I saw her. Dark-haired, wearing a thin gown. Standing protectively in front of her frail mother.

Her silver eyes locked with mine.

And then came the pull. That invisible, burning chain that tightened around my soul.

"Mate," Jax whispered, his tail wagging in excitement that made my stomach churn.

Fury erupted in my chest, hotter than any bloodlust I’d ever felt. No. This couldn’t be. The daughter of my enemy—the daughter of the Alpha who had sworn to destroy the Mancinis—was my mate?

The Moon Goddess had cursed me.

I’d marched toward her, seized her chin in my hand, forcing her to look into the eyes of the man who just annihilated her world. The moment my skin touched hers, tingles burst across my fingers, shooting betrayal straight to my heart.

Jax whimpered. "She’s our mate. She really is."

I turned from her, the bond wrapping around me like a noose. I needed to get away. I needed to break the chain. This was a trick. A joke.

"She’s the enemy," I snapped internally. "This is manipulation."

"You felt it," Jax replied. "You know what the bond is."

And I had. I felt it. And I hated it.

Back in the present, the rage still burned. I slammed my fist into the stone wall of the pack house. Cracks splintered through the stone.

"Where are the captives?" I growled—not to Craig, not to anyone. Just to the air.

"They’re being brought in now, Alpha," Craig stammered behind me.

"And her?" I asked, my voice a blade. "The Alpha’s wife and daughter?"

"With the others," he answered quickly.

"She’s not a captive. She’s our mate," Jax said again.

"She’s not a captive," I snarled in return. "She’s a weapon. And she will be treated as one."

Jax whimpered and withdrew. He knew what I was about to do. I didn’t just hate the enemy. I hated the curse.

The bond still pulsed, a vile thrum beneath my skin. The Moon Goddess had waited ten years to give me a mate—this?

A sick joke.

"Prepare a meeting room for me and that coward of an Alpha’s daughter," I commanded Craig.

"Yes, Alpha," he said quickly.

He was rattled. I didn’t care.

I strode to the back of the pack house. A small room stood apart, its warm lights glowing through the windows. Inside was a single portrait—my mother’s.

I stepped in.

I sat before her tombstone and said, "I did it. I finally destroyed the pack that caused you so much pain."

There was a bottle of wine nearby. I poured some into the empty glass at her grave.

"Here’s to your death anniversary." My hands clenched. "And once I find Alpha Hunt, I’ll bring you his head. That coward dared to threaten me with what he did to you, and then fled like a dog."

My fists tightened more.

"I’ll make him pay. Every last member of his pack. And the prophecy the elders keep forcing down my throat? I’ll end it. That’s a promise, Mother."

I left the room, fury boiling in my blood.

As I arrived at the captive quarters, my guards bowed. The very sight of the Risemoon survivors stirred something violent in me. I had wanted to slay them all, but the prophecy—they believed—held me back.

"Alpha," Craig said, lowering his head. "The meeting room is ready."

He gestured to another corridor.

I strode forward. A guard opened the door to a cell. Inside, I found her.

The silver-eyed daughter of Alpha Hunt.

Her wrists were cuffed behind the chair she sat on. In front of her was a table and an empty chair. She looked agitated.

"Where did you take my mother?" she snapped. Her voice rose. "I told you she’s sick! She shouldn’t have come this far!"

I slammed my palm down on the table. She flinched and threw her head back in fear.

"This isn’t Risemoon where you’re pampered like a princess. I rule here. Not you. I ask the questions—you answer. You don’t get to make demands. What I do to your mother is none of your concern."

She looked stunned, her silver eyes wide and afraid.

I sat across from her and gave the command: "Bring them in."

Craig entered with two guards, dragging in two women. They were gagged, forced to their knees, silver cuffs gleaming on their wrists.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

Craig and the guards raised their guns, aiming directly at the two women.

I pulled my own gun and aimed it at her.

Her fear transformed into something deeper—concern.

"These are daughters of the Risemoon Elders," I said, my voice cold. "One of them is the Moon Goddess’s last descendant."

Her eyes widened.

"All you need to do," I continued, voice turning sharp, "is tell me which one."

The two women trembled violently. She looked between them.

"At the count of three," I said, c*****g my gun. "Three... two—"

I fired. One woman cried out, muffled by her gag, as blood stained her thigh. She collapsed forward in pain.

The second woman screamed, also muffled.

"I don’t want your words," I said to them. "I want hers. If she doesn’t speak, you both die."

The untouched woman shook, tears pouring down her cheeks as she looked at the silver-eyed woman.

The silver-eyed woman grew frantic.

Jax growled inside me, disgusted. But I had long sealed my heart behind walls of hatred.

"At the next count of three," I said quietly, "I shoot the other."

"Three—"

"Stop!" she screamed, panicked. "Please, just stop!"

Tears streamed down her face. Her voice broke. "I’ll tell you who it is." She nodded frantically, her head bobbing like it pained her to speak.

The woman I had shot screamed again, still gagged and writhing.

I raised my gun and fired into her other thigh.

She shrieked, a guttural, muffled cry of agony.

"I’m the one!" the silver-eyed woman screamed. "I’m the one!"

Tears rolled down her face. "Please, just stop hurting them!"

"I don’t believe you." I said.

Her body trembled violently.

I turned to the second captive and said, "Remove her gag."

Craig obeyed.

The woman gasped for breath, then snapped bitterly, "Alpha Vladimir, she’s the witch. She’s the Moon Goddess’s last descendant. She tried to kill her own stepsister. She has the mark—she’s the one! She doesn’t even have her wolf or a mate. She’s the cursed one!"

She pointed at the silver-eyed woman. "Please don’t hurt my cousin for her. She’s the reason everything’s wrong!"

I turned to the woman I had shot and asked, "Do you agree?"

She nodded vigorously.

I stood.

I raised my gun.

The silver-eyed woman squeezed her eyes shut, her body bracing for death.

Instead, I turned, aimed at the two kneeling women—and fired twice.

Both collapsed.

Jax let out a sigh. "You didn’t shoot our mate. Thank the Goddess."

I growled internally. "Her death will be slow and painful. Why rush?"

Jax whimpered in silence.

I approached the trembling woman in the chair. Her eyes were still shut.

I took the keys from Craig and unlocked her silver cuffs.

A gasp slipped from her lips.

She opened her eyes and blinked in confusion. Her brows furrowed when she saw me holding the cuffs.

I leaned in.

"Freaking witch," I said. "Welcome to your doom."