CHAPTER005
1209 Words
Alistair was furious. "How dare you try to escape from a pack that has shown you kindness?" His intense gaze locked onto two figures before him as his anger flared within. Rage coiled within him like an animal ready to attack.
His gaze drifted back toward their joined hands. At that sight, his wolf clawed at the edges of his control, demanding blood. How dare she and this insignificant guard stand between them?
"Your Highness..." Eleanor's voice was barely audible as she stared into Eleanor's eyes with sorrowful expressions on them.
Graham stood in front of her, providing protection. If there was ever going to be any punishment meted out for her treatment by your niece, this was it. "Graham did not apologize; I am standing firm against how she has been treated by my kin, and I will not apologize."
Alistair snarled through the night, shaking up everything around them with his harsh words: "How dare you speak to me that way, mutt? His claws extended as his fury intensified—Ishould tear you apart for betraying your monarch!"
Eleanor shoved herself against Graham with arms outstretched. If he must pay, let it be him; after all, I forced him to help me, so this is my responsibility."
She had stunned him with the urgency in her voice, her trembling frame, and tears falling freely down her cheeks—why was she willing to take such drastic measures for this man? Did she care that deeply for him?
His wolf howled. Graham nodded slightly in acknowledgment of Alistair's dominance but displayed some audacity with his posture; something about defiance or courage had come across his expression, an arrogance that could get him killed.
Eleanor whispered softly, "Please."
Alistair exhaled sharply, running his hand through his hair. "Fine," he replied with an abrupt exhale of air before tightening his jaw with conviction: "Punishments will be administered at dawn."
She sighed in relief, which caused his teeth to grind together with disbelief. Why was she so concerned for another's fate?
"Leave us," his voice was harsh.
Graham hesitated. Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Did I stutter?" he asked incredulously.
Eleanor gave Graham a brief nod, inviting him to go. Graham hesitated before bowing and walking away—his wolf's energy still vibrating at this silent gesture of defiance.
As they were alone, Alistair found his gaze drifting to Eleanor's worn-out bag at her feet; his stomach turned as it occurred to him that she was about to leave him behind.
"Thank you," she murmured softly.
Alistair was struck dumbfounded. Thank you?
Eruptions of confusion mixed with his mounting frustration as she proved unafraid and did not beg for mercy, yet instead thanked him?
He had spent the last several hours trying to piece together as much information about Eleanor as he could. She wasn't just any anonymous prisoner—she was the adopted daughter of Lord Alpha Reginald, an influential and revered figure known for his honorable administration and reputation throughout the lands. Why had she stolen from her own family home and was living like this?
He had attempted to form her into something greater, someone worthy of standing beside him; yet instead, she attempted to run away from him.
"Thank you?" His voice lacked clarity, suggesting a slight displeasure with their work.
Eleanor nodded her head slightly as she focused her eyes on the floor. "Thank you," Eleanor replied with her eyes still fixed on him, "for sparing him."
"Why do you care so much about that guard?" He barked.
Silence ensued between them for some time before she raised her gaze with sorrow in her eyes and explained why he was special: he'd treated her like a person and had shown kindness, something none of his other relationships had done. "That is more than anyone has ever done for me."
Alistair felt something unnerved him deeply. Something dark and possessive began gnawing away at him from within.
"He will die if he tries to free you again," I warned him, "do you understand?"
She gasped as her breath caught. Nodding, tears slid down her cheeks.
His jaw tightened. "Do you love him?"
"What?" she inquired hesitantly.
"Do you love him, Eleanor? Was that why you decided to run?"
Alistair was at his limit. She looked away, lips parted as though ready to answer, yet no words came forth. Ultimately, his patience had worn thin.
"Tell me." Her body shuddered as she spoke: No. "I don't love him; he's just kind to me—something I haven't had for quite some time."
Although she didn't love him, this fact should have been enough for him. Instead, the thought of her being in another man's arms, even platonically, gnawed at his mind like poison.
He approached her, gently nudging her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I make the decisions," he replied quietly. "And seeing you with him was enough to make me furious."
His fingers traced the delicate curve of her throat. He could feel her pulse racing beneath his touch. His wolf howled for more.
"Eleanor, you belong to me alone and no one else."
She shivered slightly and parted her lips slightly as resistance in her gaze met something deeper that neither could ignore.
Without warning, he grabbed her and pulled her closer, his lips crashing over hers in a fierce, possessive kiss that wasn't soft nor sweet; rather, it was direct and assertive in nature, designed to erase every thought of another man from her mind.
She gasped as her hands instinctively grabbed his shoulders. Initially she was stiff; gradually, though, she softened into him, responding by winding her fingers into his tunic and twisting them around his edges.
"Did you really think you could walk away?" His voice was barely audible against her skin. "Do you really believe I would let someone else claim your heart?" He whispered firmly against her skin.
She gasped for breath as her hands quivered against his chest.
He pressed her against the wall, confining her within its confines. His wolf clawed at him in demand that he claim her fully; though she may have struggled against this attempt to claim her, there was something unmistakably pulling at them both that was undeniable.
He lost control, and eventually his attempts at resisting succumbed.
His teeth sunk deeply into her soft skin, marking her as his.
Eleanor gasped, her body tightening at first but eventually relaxing as their bond solidified and resistance began to dissipate. A connection ignited between them—unbreakable, irreversible.
He took a step back, admiring the mark he'd left on her skin. With satisfaction swelled his heart as his gaze met her bemused gaze.
"Mine," he breathed. "You belong to me, Eleanor."
She was shaking, her fingers brushing over the freshly marked area with uncertainty in her expression.
Alistair cupped her face, running his thumb along the corner of her lips. "You will soon come to understand what it means to stand by my side, becoming the queen you were meant to be."
Eleanor swallowed hard, her eyes still full of unshed tears glistening despite her desire to resist him. But instead, she decided not to fight.
And that was enough. At least, for now.
- Writer
