Condemned by My Mate, Claimed by the Alpha King

Thalia POV “Get your filthy hands off me, you useless bastards!” I drove my heel backward and caught the guard on my left in the shin. He swore under his breath, but instead of letting go, his grip tightened around my arm while the second guard twisted my other wrist higher behind my back until pain burned through my shoulder. Before I could wrench myself free, the shears snapped shut beside my ear, and another thick lock of my hair dropped onto the wet washroom floor. Celine clicked her tongue impatiently. “Hold her still.” “We’re trying, Miss Celine,” one of the guards grunted as I twisted hard enough to nearly drag him off balance. My sister rolled the silver shears between her fingers and looked at them as though their incompetence personally offended her. “Then try harder.” She remained just outside kicking distance while both men struggled to keep me pinned. Celine could have restrained me herself if she wanted. Her wolf had awakened years ago, giving her strength and speed I could never match, but she also remembered the last time she had cornered me alone. I had bitten her hard enough to leave marks for days. She had been stronger then too, but strength had never stopped me from making things unpleasant. I twisted again until one wrist almost slipped free. When the guard beside me shoved his hand toward my face to force my head down, I snapped my teeth at his fingers so quickly that he jerked backward. “Goddess,” he muttered, staring at me as though I were the problem. “She’s feral.” I bared my teeth at him. “Put your hand there again and lose a finger.” That made Celine laugh. “You see?” She shook her head with exaggerated disappointment. “This is why nobody can stand you.” I glared at her, though we both knew this had nothing to do with my personality. I knew exactly why she was doing it. That morning, one of the officials visiting for Lucan’s succession had approached me from behind and called me Miss Celine. The mistake lasted only until I turned around and he noticed the servant’s apron tied around my waist, but unfortunately for me, Celine had been close enough to hear him apologize. Apparently, being mistaken for her own twin had been enough to ruin her entire morning. We had been born with the same face, yet everyone in this house had spent twenty-two years pretending that was where our similarities ended. A seer had claimed one Rivers twin would strengthen an Alpha bloodline while the other would bring ruin to everyone who claimed her. Then Celine’s wolf awakened while mine never came, and nobody bothered wondering which daughter the prophecy meant after that. Celine became the blessed one. I became Ruinborn. Somehow, after everything else they had taken from me, even sharing her face was still too much for her to tolerate. Celine grabbed another fistful of my hair and pulled my head back. “He bowed to you,” she said, cutting another section close to my scalp. “Do you understand how humiliating that was?” I looked at her as much as the angle allowed. “For you?” Her fingers tightened immediately, yanking my head sideways. Near the shelves, one of the maids had been watching the whole thing with a smug little smile. Apparently, seeing Celine pin me between two guards had become the most interesting part of her morning. I turned my head and stared at her. The smile vanished. Good. Most of the servants knew better than to enjoy my problems too openly. I might wear the same uniform now, but I had grown up in this house before my family decided I no longer deserved to belong to it. I knew who stole wine from the cellar, which guards disappeared during night duty and which married officials preferred certain maids to deliver their supper. People talked freely in front of servants because servants were furniture. Unfortunately for them, I remembered things. The maid lowered her eyes and suddenly became very interested in folding the linen properly. Smart woman. Celine finally stepped back to inspect what she had done, her gaze travelling over the dark strands scattered across the wet floor. Satisfaction softened her face for a moment, but it didn't last. Her smile slowly faded. “Hair grows back.” Something about the way she said it tightened my stomach. Ruining my hair had entertained her, but apparently it wasn't enough. She lifted the shears again, only this time the cold point settled against my cheek. I stopped struggling. Celine smiled as though she thought I had finally understood there was no point fighting her. She was wrong. My eyes were fixed beyond her shoulder on the stack of metal wash tubs beside the drain. I stretched my leg as far as I could and kicked the bottom one with everything I had. The entire stack crashed across the floor. One guard flinched at the noise, and his grip loosened for less than a second. It was enough. I tore one arm free and swung at Celine before anyone could stop me. My fist never reached her. Her hand shot up and caught my wrist inches from her face. No matter how hard I pushed, my arm refused to move another inch. Surprise crossed her features before irritation replaced it, and her fingers tightened painfully around my wrist. She was stronger. She had always been stronger. That didn't mean I was going to stop trying. I leaned into her grip anyway and stared straight into her eyes until something in my expression made hers narrow. Rapid footsteps sounded in the corridor. A moment later, the washroom door opened. “What is going on in here?” Lucan Rook stopped in the doorway. His gaze moved slowly over the overturned tubs, the hair scattered across the floor, the guards still trying to restrain me and finally the shears in Celine’s hand. Then he looked at me. A little too long. Celine noticed. Her eyes narrowed for barely a second before her entire expression softened, and when she released my wrist, the transformation was almost impressive. “Lucan.” She relaxed her shoulders as though she hadn't been threatening to cut my face moments earlier. “I'm sorry you had to see this. Thalia has been impossible all morning.” I almost admired her ability to lie without blinking. Almost. “She’s been rude to the staff, fighting every instruction, and when I tried to correct her, she attacked me and the guards.” Lucan didn't answer immediately. His gaze dropped toward the shears and then to the faint sting on my cheek. “Did correcting her require those?” Celine glanced down at the weapon in her hand as though she had only just remembered it existed. “You know Thalia. She makes everything difficult.” A strange look crossed Lucan’s face. “I do know Thalia.” His attention flicked toward me. I narrowed my eyes at him, and something dangerously close to amusement appeared at the corner of his mouth before he extended his hand toward Celine. “Give them to me.” Her smile tightened. When she didn't move immediately, Lucan added, “The succession guests are already arriving. If one of them walks in and finds the Rivers sisters trying to kill each other in a washroom, both our fathers will spend the rest of the afternoon explaining it.” “I wasn't trying to kill her,” Celine said, sounding offended by the accusation. Lucan kept his hand extended. “Then stopping should be easy.” For a moment, she stared at him. Then she placed the shears in his palm. Lucan turned toward the guards. “Release her.” They obeyed immediately. Celine passed me on her way toward the door, pausing just long enough to admire what remained of my hair. Her mouth curved with satisfaction before she followed the guards into the corridor. The door shut behind them. I turned on Lucan. My hands were shaking, my scalp stung and something hot pressed behind my eyes, but I swallowed it down. I would not cry in a room full of my own hair. “She was about to cut my face.” Lucan set the shears down, and the amusement disappeared completely. “I know.” “You didn't say that in front of her.” “Because calling her a liar in front of her guards would have turned it into another fight.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I wanted those shears out of her hand first.” I folded my arms and looked away. “Convenient.” “Thalia.” “I know why you did it,” I cut in before he could start explaining the same problem we had argued about too many times. “I'm still angry.” He sighed softly, but instead of answering, he reached up and checked the shallow cut on my cheek before carefully touching one of the uneven strands Celine had left behind. That gentleness made it harder to stay angry. Two years. That was how long Lucan had been my mate. Two years of walking past each other like strangers whenever anyone watched because his father still held the Alpha title and expected Lucan's future Luna to strengthen the new reign, not arrive beside him wolfless and branded by an old prophecy. We had argued about the secrecy long ago. Now we both knew the plan. Wait for the succession. Let Lucan take the Alpha title, and then reveal the bond when neither his father nor mine possessed enough authority to quietly separate us before he could stop them. Lucan finally stepped back, and that was when I noticed the leather folder tucked beneath his arm. He caught me looking at it and immediately shook his head. “Don't.” I raised my brows. “I haven't said anything.” “You looked at it.” “What went wrong?” “Nothing.” I stared at him. He lasted perhaps two seconds. “You only carry that folder when something has gone wrong,” I reminded him. Lucan exhaled as though I had exhausted him personally before opening it. “My adviser wants Alpha Vance honored first at the welcome dinner because he brought the largest force.” “Then Dunmore will walk out.” His head came up. “What?” “His steward spent half of last night complaining that Vance is always treated like the favorite. He told Dunmore's son that one more public slight and they're leaving before the ceremony.” Lucan frowned at me. “How do you know that?” “I was pouring their wine.” “You were listening.” “They were speaking in front of me.” I leaned closer to the page. “It would have been rude not to.” The corner of his mouth twitched despite himself. I pointed toward the list. “Honor your father first, then Vance and Dunmore together. Same breath, same importance. Neither gets to complain without making himself look ridiculous.” Lucan considered it for a moment, then pulled out a pen and changed the line. Just like that. My family had ended my education years ago, and most people in this house treated my opinions like background noise. Lucan asked. More importantly, he listened. “Your adviser missed that?” I asked. “He has other strengths.” I pretended to consider the matter seriously. “He has an excellent beard.” Lucan laughed under his breath. “He's advised my father for twenty years.” “Then he has twenty years of practice being wrong.” He gave me a warning look. “Thalia.” “What?” He shook his head, smiling, and for a few seconds the hair scattered around us stopped mattering. Then he closed the folder. “After the succession, we won't have to do this in washrooms.” “You've been saying that for two years.” “I know.” His hand settled against my cheek, and his expression became serious again. “But now there's a date. Once the title is mine, I'm done hiding you. I'll claim you publicly, and you'll stand beside me as my Luna.” I searched his face. There was no hesitation there. Why would I doubt him? He trusted me with problems nobody else could solve. He came to me for answers when everyone else inside this house behaved as though I barely had a mind worth using. Whenever Lucan spoke about the future, I could see myself inside it. He kissed my forehead before leaving for his meeting with Father, and by evening, I was serving wine in the council room in a considerably better mood. Lucan sat beside Father and several visiting Alphas while I remained near the wall, exactly where servants were expected to disappear. Eventually, the discussion turned toward the welcome dinner. Lucan proposed honoring his father first before recognizing Vance and Dunmore together. My solution. Father considered the suggestion for a moment before leaning back with an approving nod. “Smart. Your advisers didn't catch that.” Lucan glanced briefly in my direction before answering him. “No. They didn't.” I kept my expression neutral while moving around the table to refill cups, but satisfaction warmed my chest anyway. Nobody in that room knew Lucan had walked into a washroom with a problem and walked out carrying my answer. When I glanced up, his eyes met mine. Only for a second. But it was enough. He knew, and I knew, and for one stupid little moment, sharing that secret felt wonderful. Then I noticed Celine across the room. She wasn't sneering. She wasn't smiling either. Her gaze moved slowly from me to Lucan, lingered on him and then returned to me. The satisfaction in my chest cooled. Celine had never been subtle about disliking me. If something upset her, she usually made certain I knew about it. This was different. “More wine,” one of the visiting Alphas said, holding out his cup. I blinked and moved toward him. “Of course.” As I poured, I forced myself to dismiss the unease crawling along the back of my neck. Celine stared at people all the time. It didn't have to mean anything. Still, when I moved toward the next guest, I could feel her eyes following me. This time, I didn't look back.