CHAPTER 2: THE KING'S BEDCHAMBER
811 Words
The guards dragged me through stone hallways that smelled like iron and old smoke.
My bare feet were bleeding. The kitchen floor had cut me when they pulled me up.
But I didn’t cry.
I whispered Isaiah 54:1 instead.
“Sing, O barren...”
“Shut up,” one guard growled and shoved me.
I stumbled into a room so big it felt like a church.
Torches lined the walls. Black furs covered the floor. And in the middle, on a throne made of wolf bones, sat him.
Alpha King Xavier Black.
He didn’t look up when I entered. He was reading letters, signing them with a knife instead of a pen.
Blood dripped onto the parchment.
“Sire,” the guard bowed. “The omega. The one with no wolf.”
Xavier finally looked at me.
His eyes were black. Not brown. Not gold. Black. Like there was no light in them at all.
Scars cut across his jaw. Down his neck. A pack of wolves wouldn’t have been able to give him those.
He stood.
He was huge. 7 feet at least. And he filled the room with power that made my knees shake.
“Come here,” he said.
His voice was low. Cold. Like he was used to people obeying or dying.
I didn’t move.
“Did you not hear me, little prophetess?”
Little prophetess.
How did he know that word? I never told anyone about the church.
My legs moved on their own. One step. Two. Until I stood 3 feet from him.
Close enough to smell him. Cedar. Blood. And something else. Power.
He reached out and grabbed my chin. His fingers were rough. Cold.
“You really have no wolf,” he murmured, tilting my face to the torchlight. “Interesting.”
“Let me go,” I whispered.
Xavier laughed. It was a dark sound. “No one tells a King what to do.”
Then he did something I didn’t expect.
He pressed his forehead to mine.
I felt it then. A pull. Deep in my chest. Like a string tied to my soul was being tugged.
Mate bond.
But mine had been broken by Damien. How could...
“You smell like prophecy,” Xavier said against my skin. “Like answered prayers.”
“I’m nothing,” I said, and hated how weak I sounded. “I’m barren. Cursed. My own mate rejected me.”
“Good.” His black eyes burned. “That means you’re mine.”
“I, Alpha King Xavier Black, claim you as my mate.”
The words hit me like a slap. The palace shook. Outside, wolves howled.
A red mark burned onto my wrist. His mark.
Pain and power at the same time.
“Why?” I asked, tears falling now. “Why me? I can’t shift. I can’t give you heirs. I’m useless.”
Xavier grabbed my wrists and pulled me closer.
“Useless?” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “The seers said an omega with no wolf would bring down the 7 Kings. They said she would be barren until God Himself blessed her womb.”
My blood went cold.
“How do you know about God?”
“Because I’m going to break Him,” Xavier whispered. “And I’m going to start with you.”
He let me go and walked back to his throne.
“Take her to my bedchamber,” he told the guards. “She sleeps there tonight. No one touches her. She’s mine.”
---
My bedchamber was not a prison. It was worse.
It was beautiful.
Silk sheets. A fireplace bigger than my old house. Windows that looked over the entire kingdom.
And a bed that could fit 10 people.
The guards left me there. Alone.
I sank to my knees on the fur rug and pressed my marked wrist to my forehead.
“God,” I whispered. “Why me? Why him?”
The mark on my wrist burned hotter.
For the first time in 3 years, I felt something. Not pain. Not shame.
Hope.
There was a knock.
The door opened and a maid came in with food. She wouldn’t look at me.
“His Majesty said you’re to eat,” she said and set down a tray. “And... and he said to tell you this.”
She handed me a folded paper.
On it, in blood ink, were 4 words:
`Pray louder, little prophetess.`
My hands shook.
He knew. Somehow, he knew.
Outside my window, the moon was full again.
Damien’s face flashed in my mind. The rejection. The pain.
Then Xavier’s voice: `Mine.`
I wasn’t safe here.
But for the first time, I wasn’t alone either.
And somewhere deep inside me, something that had been dead for 3 years...
twitched.
Like a wolf.
Like a promise
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD