Sold To The Ruthless Werewolf King

15

Kael

“Dispose of her body,” I said, turning my back on the girl’s cold, unmoving form.

I knew she could never survive. None of them did. But at least I had let her die, thinking she stood a chance against the draining sacrifice. She wasn’t the first queen to bleed out on my stone floor, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

I groaned, lifting the silver bowl to my lips. I sipped her blood slowly, savoring the copper warmth as it coated my throat. Goddess, she tasted magnificent. There was a spark in her veins, something fiercely sweet and electric. A small, uncharacteristic part of me actually hoped she was still alive so that I could taste it again.

“My King,” a breathless voice called out behind me, shattering the quiet moment.

“She…”

“She’s what?” I howled, spinning around to glare at the warrior I had ordered to clear the corpse. “Speak!”

“She... she is alive, my king!”

“Oh?”

A dark, twisted sneer tugged at my lips. Alive! My new little blood bag was actually breathing. The shock on the warrior’s face revealed everything I needed to know. She was the first person to ever survive that hall. The first to be carried out as a corpse and pull herself back from the gates of death.

“I guess she will serve her purpose for a long time to come,” I mused, tilting the bowl back and draining the last drops of her crimson life force. I tossed the empty silver container to a trembling maid. “Take her to the side hall. See to it that she survives.”

“Yes, my King,” the warrior barked as he lifted her fragile body and threw it over his muscular shoulder.

I turned my sweeping gaze to the rest of the hall. “You may rise,” I commanded my people.

They stood up slowly, their eyes darting around the room in frantic, silent confusion. I could smell the sharp, sour scent of their fear flooding the air. They wanted to question me. They wanted to demand answers about the miracle girl, but they knew exactly what happened to anyone who dared challenge my word.

I marched back up the steps and slammed myself down onto the throne. A sudden, violent heat surged through my veins. My vision blurred, my eyes shifting erratically from a deep gold to a lethal, demonic red. Damn it. I was losing control. The beast beneath my skin was clawing to get out.

“You are all dismissed!” I roared.

I fought the raging demons in my mind as I watched the crowd scramble out of the grand hall, practically tripping over themselves to escape my wrath.

“My King,” Alex, my Beta, spoke quietly from my right side. “Are you alright?”

“I…” I let out a loud, animalistic groan, my claws extending. “I’m losing it, Alex. The fever is back.”

“But sire, you just drank the tribute’s blood,” he said, his brow furrowing.

“It wasn’t enough!” I growled, driving my claws straight into the skin of my chest, drawing my own dark blood just to ground myself against the madness. I was doing everything in my power to keep the monster chained.

“Where is Sandra?!” Alex screamed at the remaining royal guards. “Go get her! Now!”

Slash!

My claws dug deeper into my chest, ripping through flesh. The pain was nothing compared to the howling void in my mind.

“My King!” Sandra’s smooth, purring voice echoed through the high arches of the hall.

In a literal blink of an eye, I blurred across the room, pinning her against the stone wall. Without a second of hesitation, Sandra tilted her head back, baring her throat to me in total, practiced submission. I buried my face in her neck, inhaling her familiar scent before forcing my fangs out. I drove them deep into her flesh.

“Mm,” Sandra moaned softly, her fingers gripping my shoulders as I began to fiercely pump the blood from her veins. “My King…”

Sandra was my primary blood bag—the only werewolf in the territory whose biology could withstand my lethal feeding without dying on the spot. She was the only anchor capable of pulling me back whenever the beast tried to consume my sanity.

As I drank harder, desperate to quiet the roaring in my skull, her hands left my shoulders and traveled suggestively down to my waist, her fingers tugging at my belt.

How dare she!

The hazy pleasure vanished, replaced by an explosive surge of rage. I ripped my fangs from her neck and wrapped my hand tightly around her throat, choking off her breath.

“I’m sorry, my King…” she gasped out, her eyes wide with sudden terror.

“It seems you have forgotten your place, slave,” I growled, my voice laced with malice. I watched her struggle, her face turning blue under my grip.

There was a sick, twisted thrill in watching people suffer right before I took their lives.

“My King,” Alex stepped forward, his voice tense but steady. “She is the only one who can withstand your hunger. If you kill her now, you will have no one else fit to stabilize you.”

I shot a freezing look over my shoulder at him. Damn him, he was right. Sandra was a bold, arrogant b***h, but she was still useful. For now.

With a disgusted grunt, I threw her body violently onto the stone floor. She hit the ground with a painful thud, whimpering as she clutched her bruised throat.

“Leave my sight!” I ordered.

I stood in the center of the hall, watching her scramble to her feet and sprint out of the doors like a frightened rabbit.

“Are you alright now, my King?” Alex asked carefully.

“I’ll be fine for today,” I muttered, wiping a smear of blood from my lip. I turned and began the long walk back to my private quarters. “I want to be completely alone, Alex. See to it that I am not disturbed.”

“Yes, sir.”

The royal guards stationed outside my bedroom door immediately bowed their heads the moment I approached.

“You may rise,” I muttered, palming the heavy wooden door open. “And leave your posts. I want the corridor cleared.”

“Yes, my King,” they chorused, bowing again before marching away.

I stepped into my room, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of my own space before throwing myself face-down onto the massive bed.

Time passed in a blur of restless, dark dreams. Three days bled into one another until the news finally broke through my isolation. The fragile little thing from the Ravencrest-Sterling pack had finally woken up from her deep coma.

I was stuck in a grueling meeting with the elder council when the warrior brought me the message.

“Go get her,” I commanded the guard, not caring about the elders watching. “Bring her directly to me.”