Tasted By The King

The Debt

I didn't follow Kael.

That should have been the end of it.

I told myself that as I pressed my back against the wet brick wall, listening to his footsteps fade into the rain. Told myself as I counted to one hundred. Told myself as I pushed off the wall and walked in the opposite direction, toward the cramped apartment I'd rented for the past eight months.

You don't follow kings. Kings eat wolves like you for breakfast.

But the bond hummed under my skin like a second heartbeat. Every step away from him pulled at something deep in my chest. A tether I hadn't asked for. A chain I couldn't see.

"Stupid," I muttered, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket. "So stupid."

The Rogue Quarter never slept. Even at—I glanced at the cracked clock in a pawnshop window—two in the morning, the streets crawled with shifters who had nowhere else to go. Deserters. Exiles. Wolves like me.

No, I corrected myself. Not like me. Most of them are criminals. You're just... lost.

"Raina?"

I froze.

The voice came from my left. From the shadow of a burned-out building. From a man who stepped into the dim light with his hands raised and his eyes wide.

Not Kael.

Worse.

"Marcus," I breathed.

He smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. It never did.

"Long time no see, little Luna."

"I'm not a Luna anymore."

"Once a Luna, always a Luna." He took a step closer. Then another. His scent hit me—rotten wood and sour milk. Nothing like Kael's smoke and cedar. "I've been looking for you."

"That's unfortunate."

Marcus laughed. He was handsome in a ruined way—blond hair gone dark at the roots, a scar splitting his left eyebrow, teeth just crooked enough to be unsettling. Rogue Alpha. Former heir to some pack in the east. He'd been trying to recruit me for eighteen months.

"Join me," he said, as if reading my thoughts. "We could be something, you and I."

"We could be nothing. That's the more likely option."

"Always so cold." He tsked. "I heard you had a visitor tonight."

My blood turned to ice.

How does he know?

"Kael doesn't visit just anyone," Marcus continued, circling me slowly. "He doesn't touch just anyone. So what makes you special, Raina? What does the King of Sunder want with a discarded mate?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar."

He moved fast.

One second he was six feet away. The next, his hand was wrapped around my wrist, yanking me toward him. His breath washed over my face—sour, rotten, wrong.

"I saw him," Marcus hissed. "I saw him press you against that wall. I saw him taste you. So don't stand there and tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Let go of me."

"Not until you answer."

I looked at his hand on my wrist. Then at his face.

"I'll give you one chance," I said quietly.

"To do what?"

"To let go before I make you regret it."

Marcus laughed again. Louder this time. "You? You're strong, Raina, but you're not that strong. You've been alone for three years. No pack. No Alpha. No—"

I moved.

Not fast. Precise.

My free hand shot up, fingers finding the soft spot under his jaw. Pressure. Just enough. His eyes went wide as his airway compressed.

"I survived three years in rogue territory without a pack," I said calmly. "Do you really think I did that by being weak?"

Marcus gurgled.

"I asked you to let go." I applied more pressure. "I'm not going to ask again."

His hand dropped from my wrist.

I released his throat and stepped back.

He crumpled to his knees, gasping.

"Stay away from me, Marcus." I wiped my hand on my jacket. "Next time, I won't be so gentle."

I turned and walked away.

My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. But my wolf was singing.

Good, she purred. Good. We're not weak anymore.

No. We weren't.

But we weren't safe either.

Twenty minutes later.

My apartment was a shoebox. One room. One bathroom. A window that didn't close all the way and a door with three locks.

It was mine.

I locked all three locks, pressed my back against the door, and slid down until I was sitting on the floor.

Breathe. Just breathe.

The bond pulsed.

I pressed my hand to my chest, right over my heart. It felt like someone was tapping on the inside of my ribs. Knock, knock, knock.

Kael.

He was reaching for me. Testing the bond. Seeing if I'd reach back.

I didn't.

But I wanted to.

No. Focus. You have bigger problems.

Marcus knew about Kael. Which meant other rogues probably knew too. Which meant Caleb might know.

Caleb.

My ex-mate. The man who'd replaced me with Vera. The man who'd sold me to a king without my knowledge or consent.

I was going to kill him.

Slowly.

First things first, I told myself. Information. You need information.

I crawled to my bed, pulled out the box underneath, and opened it.

Inside: cash. Fake IDs. A knife. And a burner phone.

I powered on the phone and stared at the screen.

There was only one person I could call. One person in this entire world who might have answers without demanding payment in blood.

I dialed.

Three rings. Four. Five.

"Hello?"

"Sasha. It's me."

A pause. Then: "Raina? Do you know what time it is?"

"Two in the morning."

"Exactly. This better be important."

"Kael found me."

Another pause. Longer this time.

"s**t," Sasha whispered.

"Yeah."

"Where are you?"

"My apartment."

"Don't move. I'm coming."

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone for a long moment, then set it down.

Sasha was the closest thing I had to a friend. We'd met two years ago in a rogue fighting ring—me trying to earn enough cash to survive, her trying to earn enough to escape. We'd helped each other. Trusted each other. Saved each other's lives more times than I could count.

If anyone knew what Kael wanted with me, it was her.

Fifteen minutes later.

A knock on the door. Three quick raps. A pause. Two more.

Our code.

I unlocked all three locks and pulled Sasha inside.

She was shorter than me, built like a knife—all sharp edges and lethal intent. Dark skin. Darker eyes. A scar across her left palm from the night she'd caught a blade meant for my throat.

"You look like hell," she said.

"Thanks."

"Did you sleep with him?"

"What? No!"

"Then why do you look like hell?"

I gestured vaguely at everything. "Because the King of Sunder told me my ex-mate sold me to him three years ago, and now there's a bond in my chest that won't stop pulsing, and Marcus cornered me on the way home, and—"

"Marcus cornered you?"

"He's fine. I didn't kill him."

"Pity." Sasha dropped onto my bed and kicked off her boots. "Start from the beginning. Don't leave anything out."

I told her everything.

The knife at my throat. Kael's amber eyes. The bond. The deal Caleb had made. The way Kael had tasted my blood and smiled like he'd already won.

When I finished, Sasha was quiet for a long time.

"That's bad," she finally said.

"I know."

"No, Raina. You don't understand." She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. "Blood bonds aren't just contracts. They're magic. Old magic. The kind that can't be broken."

"There has to be a way."

"Maybe. But not easily." She rubbed her scarred palm. "If Caleb really signed with his blood and Kael sealed with his teeth, then you're bound to Sunder now. Bound to him."

"I don't want to be bound to anyone."

"Doesn't matter what you want. The bond doesn't care." Sasha met my eyes. "The only way to break it is if one of you dies."

The room felt very small all of a sudden.

"I'm not killing anyone," I said.

"Then you're not breaking the bond."

"Kael said he wants me willing. Begging, even. He said he won't drag me or chain me."

"And you believe him?"

I thought about the way Kael had looked at me. The way he'd stepped back when I pushed him. The way he'd extended his hand and let me choose.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "I think I do."

Sasha sighed. "You're in trouble, Raina."

"I know."

"Deep trouble."

"I know."

"He's going to consume you. Kings like him don't take halves. They take everything."

I looked down at my hands. At the faint scars across my knuckles. At the calluses from three years of fighting, running, surviving.

"Maybe," I said quietly. "Or maybe I'll consume him."

Sasha stared at me.

Then she laughed—sharp and surprised and genuinely amused.

"Now that," she said, "is the Raina I know."

A knock shattered the moment.

Three quick raps. A pause. Two more.

Our code.

But Sasha was already inside.

So who was at the door?

I pressed my finger to my lips. Sasha nodded, reaching for the knife in her boot.

I crept to the door. Pressed my eye to the peephole.

My heart stopped.

Caleb stood in the hallway.

His hair was longer. His face was thinner. Dark circles carved hollows under his eyes. He looked like a man who hadn't slept in months.

He knocked again.

"Raina," he said through the door. His voice cracked. "Please. I know you're in there. I know you heard about the deal. Let me explain."

I didn't open the door.

I didn't move.

I didn't breathe.

"Please," Caleb whispered. "I'm begging you."

Behind me, Sasha held her knife ready.

The bond in my chest pulsed—once, twice, three times.

Not from Kael this time.

From Caleb.

Mate, my wolf whimpered. Mate is here.

But he'd sold me.

He'd sold me to a king.

And now he was begging at my door.

What game is this?