The Alpha's Reluctant Mate

Chapter 8-The Show Is Over

Elara’s POV

Something inside me snapped.

I jerked my head back and spit straight into his face. Blood and saliva hit his cheek. For one heartbeat, shock flashed across those cold eyes. I ripped myself away from his grip, scrambling backward on shaky legs.

“Elara, stop this!” My father’s voice cracked across the field like thunder. “Elara, please!”

Emma’s cry followed right after, high and terrified. “Elara, please! Don’t!”

I didn’t look at them. I couldn’t. Their voices faded into noise. All I heard was the blood roaring in my ears and the stubborn fire still burning in my chest.

I pushed up, legs trembling, and spat more blood onto the ground. My body screamed at me to stay down, but I forced my feet apart and raised my fists again. The loose cloth on my wrist flapped like a torn flag. Sweat stung my eyes. Pain throbbed in every muscle, but I locked my jaw and stared straight at him.

Thorne slowly rose to his full height. He wiped my spit from his face with the back of his hand, calm as ever. But something darker moved behind his eyes now. The air between us grew thick, electric. The whole crowd seemed to hold its breath.

I charged.

My fist flew straight for his nose. I wanted to break it. I wanted to hear the crunch and see blood pour down that arrogant face. He caught my wrist mid-swing, iron fingers locking around it. In one smooth motion, he spun me around. My back slammed against his solid chest. The impact knocked what little air I had left out of me.

I twisted and thrashed, trying to break free. My boots scraped the dirt as I stomped hard at his foot. He shifted easily, avoiding it. His arm locked tighter around my waist, pulling me flush against him. Heat poured off his body. His scent—dark, warm, overwhelming—flooded my nose and made my wolf stir in confused rage.

I wiggled harder, elbow flying back toward his ribs.

“Stop fighting,” he growled near my ear.

“You lose,” he whispered instead, breath hot against my skin.

The words lit a wildfire in me.

I screamed. Raw, furious, desperate. My elbow shot back again, aiming for anything I could hit. Before it connected, his hand moved like lightning. The edge of his palm struck the side of my neck.

Everything went strange.

My body locked up. Then it melted. Strength drained out of me like water through cracked fingers. My knees buckled. I tried to stay upright, but my legs wouldn’t listen.

“What… did you do to me?” I whispered. My voice sounded far away, weak and slurred.

The world tilted. I felt myself falling.

I hit the ground, with a soft thud. I could still see, still hear, but I couldn’t move. Panic clawed up my throat.

‘No. No. Get up. Fight.’

“Elara!” Emma screamed somewhere behind me. Her voice cracked with fear.

Thorne stood over me now, arms folded across his broad chest. Those silver eyes looked down without mercy, cold and victorious. I glared up at him with everything I had left, hating how small I felt.

“You… cheated…” I managed to whisper. My tongue felt heavy. The words barely made it out.

His expression didn’t change.

Then his voice boomed across the clearing, deep and commanding, cutting through every whisper and whimper. “The show is over! Everyone leave!”

The words landed like stones. I heard footsteps shuffling, murmurs rising, but no one dared argue. The tension in the air was so thick it felt like it could choke us all. My heart hammered wildly even as my body lay limp.

This couldn’t be happening. I wasn’t supposed to lose. I wasn’t supposed to belong to him. But the truth sat heavy in my chest—I had lost. And now I was his.

One of Thorne’s men stepped closer, clapping a hand on his Alpha’s shoulder with a low chuckle. “Alpha, you got yourself a fighter. Your bride is one hell of a stubborn woman. Good luck with her.”

Thorne didn’t smile. He just gave a small nod as the man walked away.

Soft hands touched me then. Someone knelt beside my head and gently lifted it, placing it on their lap. Emma. I caught the familiar scent of her fear and the faint smell of her tears as they dripped onto my hair. Her fingers shook while she brushed strands away from my sweaty face.

“Elara…” she whispered, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

My father appeared above me too, face pale and eyes hollow with regret. He stared down at me like he was seeing a ghost. For a moment, I thought he might say something—yell at Thorne, stop the marriage, anything. But he stayed silent, shoulders slumped in defeat.

Rage boiled inside me, pure and burning. I couldn’t move, but I could still feel. And what I felt was fury so sharp it cut deeper than any bruise.

He might have won this fight. He might be dragging me away as his prize. But I swore right then, lying helpless on the cold ground, that I would make his life a living hell. I would fight him every single day. I would never let him forget that I wasn’t some quiet, obedient bride. I was fire, and I would burn him from the inside.

Thorne stepped forward. His shadow swallowed me again. Without a word, he bent down and slid one arm under my knees, the other behind my back. He lifted me like I weighed nothing. My head fell against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat—steady, strong, unbothered. Mine raced like a trapped animal.

He looked down at me for a long second. Those silver eyes searched my face. I wanted to spit at him again, to curse him, but my body wouldn’t obey. All I could do was glare with every ounce of hatred I had left.

Thorne turned toward my father.

“Thank you, Alpha William,” he said, voice calm and formal, like this was some normal transaction. “But it’s time to take my bride home.”

The words sent ice down my spine. Home. His home.

Emma’s soft sobs filled the quiet. My father didn’t move. The crowd had mostly scattered, but I could still feel eyes on us—curious, pitying, afraid. The tension hadn’t broken. It had only shifted into something heavier, something final.

Thorne started walking. Each step he took carried me farther from everything I knew. My body bounced slightly in his arms, limp and useless.

The sky above me blurred as my vision swam. Pain still throbbed everywhere, but the worst pain was the helplessness.

I had thrown everything at him. Every punch, every kick, every bit of pride. And it hadn’t been enough.

Now I was being carried away like a trophy.

My wolf howled inside, trapped and furious, echoing the scream I couldn’t release. I stared up at Thorne’s jaw, at the hard line of it, at the faint mark where my fist had finally landed earlier. Small victory. Meaningless now.

He didn’t look down at me again. He just kept walking, steady and sure, like the world had always belonged to him.

And I was part of it now.

Whether I wanted it or not.

The trees at the edge of the clearing grew closer. My old life grew smaller behind us. Emma’s cries faded. My father’s silence followed me like a ghost.

This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be.

I felt Thorne’s lips brush my ear, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“Let’s see how long your fire lasts…in my world.”

I wanted to scream, wanted to punch his stupid face.

But then darkness swallowed me whole.