Chapter 3
1027 Words
Alpha Dragov had faced men with armies behind them.
He had watched powerful businessmen beg for their lives.
He had buried enemies who believed they could destroy everything he had built.
Fear was a language he understood.
A language he spoke better than anyone.
But standing in the darkness of the room, feeling the cold edge of a blade pressed against his throat...
He almost smiled.
The gods truly had a twisted sense of humor.
Because the woman standing behind him, believing she had caught him off guard, had no idea what she had just done.
She had threatened the Butcher of the North.
She had placed a blade against the throat of the man who had made entire territories kneel.
And somehow...
That was not even the most unbelievable part.
His wolf had been restless since the moment she arrived.
The second the SUV crossed through the gates of his estate, he had known.
Her scent had reached him through the rain.
Through the distance.
Through the walls.
Mate.
The word had echoed inside his mind, irritating him from the moment his wolf recognized her.
He had ignored it.
He had convinced himself it was impossible.
Because fate did not play games with men like him.
Men like him did not get happy endings.
They got enemies.
Betrayals.
Wars.
They got blood on their hands and people waiting for the perfect moment to put a knife in their backs.
They did not get mates.
Especially not...
An omega.
His eyes lowered slightly as he stood perfectly still.
She was small.
Too small.
An omega.
The weakest rank among wolves.
A stain on the bloodline.
A reminder of everything their species claimed to have evolved beyond.
That was what omegas were considered by many.
A weakness.
A burden.
A shame.
An embarrassment.
They were not warriors.
They were not leaders.
They were protected because they could not protect themselves.
And yet this one had hidden in the shadows of his room, waited for him to enter, and attacked like she had been preparing for this moment her entire life.
Interesting.
For an omega...
She had courage.
He had known she was there.
Of course he had.
The moment he entered the room, he had sensed her heartbeat.
He had smelled the tension in the air.
He had felt his wolf grow restless.
But he had waited.
He wanted to see what she would do.
He wanted to know if the girl her father had delivered was truly as helpless as everyone assumed.
Apparently not.
Her grip tightened against his throat.
A threat.
A challenge.
A mistake.
In one swift movement, Dragov moved.
His hand closed around the blade.
The sharp edge cut into his palm.
Blood slid down his fingers.
The woman froze.
Not because he had taken the weapon.
Because she realized he had done it without hesitation.
Without fear.
Pain was nothing.
Pain was temporary.
Pain was something he had learned to ignore a long time ago.
Within seconds, his healing ability would erase the damage completely.
Before she could react, he removed the blade from her hand.
Then his other hand moved.
Not violently.
Not harshly.
But with complete control.
His fingers wrapped around her neck, and he pushed her back against the wall.
Her eyes widened.
And then he felt it.
The moment his wolf finally broke through the silence.
Mate.
The word echoed through him.
The woman went completely still.
For a few seconds, she only stared at him.
Then...
"No."
The refusal surprised him.
Not because he believed she understood the bond.
She clearly didn't.
But because of the certainty behind the word.
No fear.
No confusion.
Just rejection.
For some reason...
It annoyed him.
His jaw tightened.
He told himself it was only his wolf reacting.
Nothing more.
"Unfortunately..." His voice was low and cold. "Fate has cursed me with you."
Her eyes narrowed.
Before she could respond, he reached upward and turned on the light.
The switch was directly above her head.
That was when he noticed.
She was even smaller than he realized.
His expression remained unreadable.
He hated this.
Everything about it.
A mate was a weakness.
A vulnerability.
A person someone could use against him.
And Alpha Dragov had spent his entire life making sure nobody had that kind of power.
He had built his empire from nothing.
He had fought for every piece of it.
The Dragov Syndicate was feared because he allowed no weakness.
No mercy.
No attachments.
Yet now Fate had placed one in his hands.
A woman.
A mate.
An omega.
His wolf stirred again.
Mine.
He ignored it.
She would remain his prisoner.
For now.
That would satisfy his wolf while he figured out what to do next.
His gaze moved over her.
Her hair was still damp from the rain.
Dark strands framed her face.
But it was her eyes that caught his attention.
Ocean blue.
Wide.
Furious.
Alive.
There was no submission in them.
No acceptance.
Only defiance.
She was not broken.
Not yet.
And something told him she would be far more difficult to control than he originally expected.
A wild little raven.
That was what she was.
Beautiful.
Dangerous.
Unpredictable.
He studied her for several seconds longer before finally releasing her.
She immediately stepped away from him, but she did not run.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Dragov turned toward the door.
He needed distance.
Because the longer he stood there, the harder it became to ignore the beast inside him.
His wolf was no longer calm.
It was restless.
Angry.
Demanding.
It wanted to claim what Fate had given them.
Right there.
Right then.
But he refused.
He would not become a slave to instinct.
Not even his own wolf.
Without another word, Alpha Dragov walked out of the room.
The door closed behind him.
And for the first time in years...
The Butcher of the North felt something dangerously close to uncertainty.
He actually did not know what to do in this case . He had gotten so comfortable with the idea that a man like him did not have to worry about having a mate .
- Writer
