YOU WERE MINE FIRST

Marked By The King

CHAPTER 7: Marked By The King

"Mine."

Word left my mouth and it wasn't just mine. Two voices braided together. My small one shaking, and hers cold and royal and ancient, echoing off black stone.

White claws dug into Rhazien's shoulders, tiny beads of his dark blood welling. Felt his pulse hammering under my lips. Something in me that slept eighteen years woke hungry and possessive.

And Beast King, male who claimed me by debt on broken altar floor, male who never bowed to anyone in two hundred years, tilted his head further back, exposed more of throat, long scarred column, old faded mark there stark silver, and whispered broken and reverent,

"Yours."

Hands on my waist, huge, hot, holding me as I straddled his lap in middle of huge bed. Black fur throw fallen open when I arched. Shirt ridden up to thighs, huge fluffy white tail trapped between us thumping wildly, out of control. White ears on top of head swiveled forward, listening to his heart hammer.

Outside howling had not stopped. Hundreds of Lycan voices on Black Mountain howling for their Luna, for white light that pulsed from King's bedroom and lit whole peak for miles. Windows rattled.

Inside, just breathing. His ragged. Mine fast.

I didn't know how to mark. Never marked anyone. Never even been kissed properly. Jaxon kissed Tanya in front of me more times than I could count, but never kissed me, because he said kissing wolfless was bad luck.

Lyra knew.

_Here, little wolf,_ she purred inside, warm coaxing, like mother teaching daughter how to hold knife first time. _Right there. Where his pulse jumps for us. Where dead female tried to claim him and failed. Bite. Not hard enough to harm. Hard enough to own. White Queens don't ask permission to mark Kings. We take._

I shuddered in his lap, white eyes flaring brighter.

"Rhazien," I whispered against his throat, lips brushing skin, making him hiss, hips jerk under me, hands tighten on waist, but he didn't pull away. He pushed closer.

"Do it," he gritted out, gold eyes blown wide, staring up at ceiling like trying not to move and ruin it. "Elara, little Queen, do it. Mark me. I have been unmarked five years since she died and tried to take my beast with her. I burned her bite off with silver because I would not be claimed by female who didn't love my beast. But you... Goddess, you can have my throat. You can have my soul."

Something hot furious possessive finally powerful surged up in me, not just Lyra, me, Elara, girl who scrubbed pots and bled on altars and watched mate kiss best friend and call her nothing.

I bit.

Sank new white fangs into thick muscle where neck met shoulder, right over pulse, right over old faded silver scar, covering it, erasing it, and world exploded.

Taste hit tongue.

Not just blood. Cold like winter and hot like fire at same time, ancient Lycan King power, and it tasted like snow and smoke and midnight and him, and whole body arched like lightning struck.

He roared.

Not growl. Full unchained Lycan King roar that shook black stone walls, blew out fire in fireplace, made howling outside turn to deafening cheers because they felt it through pack link, through bond snapping into place like chain made of moonlight.

Arms locked around me, crushing to chest, huge body shuddering, own fangs dropping, claws extending fully digging into furs, tearing, back bowing off bed as my venom, my Queen's venom, poured into bloodstream.

_More,_ Lyra snarled inside, holding jaws shut. _Push soul into him. Let him feel who owns him now._

Whimpered around his throat, hands fisting in long black hair, tail wrapping tight around waist, white ears flat in concentration, glowing eyes squeezed shut, pushing with everything I was.

My soul, small bruised kitchen-girl small, slamming into his, huge scarred King-sized lonely two hundred years.

And he let me. He opened for me.

His soul grabbed mine mid-push and pulled.

Warmth exploded behind ribs. Gold light burst behind closed eyes. Bond thicker than any pack bond brighter than white in eyes slammed into place between us with snap so loud I felt it in teeth.

True mate bond. Not chosen. Not claimed by contract. True. Goddess-given. White Queen to Lycan King. Bond that hadn't existed in three hundred years.

Gasped and let go of throat, fangs slipping free, breathing hard shaking, white eyes flying open glowing so bright they lit his face.

He stared at me, gold eyes no longer gold. White-ringed. My white rings reflected in his. Mouth open, chest heaving, throat bleeding from bite, perfect set delicate white fangs over pulse glowing faintly silver-white already healing into mark that would never fade.

I marked Beast King.

Kitchen girl marked Lycan King.

Huge hand came up shaking and touched mark, smearing own blood, then touched lips, then putting bloodied thumb into own mouth and sucking, eyes rolling back growling.

"Mine," he snarled, but this time not claim. Surrender. "My Queen marked me. My little debt marked me."

He moved.

One second straddling his lap shaking from marking him. Next back hit soft black furs, huge body over mine caging me, arms either side of head, long black hair falling around us like curtain.

He didn't kiss. He stared down, glowing white eyes, white ears flat against furs, fluffy tail trying to hide.

Gold eyes white-ringed now dropped to my throat, bare, unmarked.

And he made sound like he was in pain.

"Elara," he whispered, voice shredded, fangs so long they cut lower lip. "Can I? My Queen let me feel what it is to be owned first time in my life. Can I own you back? Can I give you my mark so no male living or dead ever thinks he can touch what is mine? Can I mark you little debt? Say yes."

He said he would never deserve rejection.

Jaxon rejected me because he thought I was nothing.

Rhazien claimed that rejection and turned it into this, me glowing under him, him bleeding for me, begging to mark me.

Lyra purred sated.

_Let him,_ she whispered soft pleased, _He begged so prettily. Let our King mark his Queen properly so world smells us both._

Shaking, not from fear anymore. From heat. From bond now humming gold-white between us.

Reached up with small white-clawed hands and cupped scarred beautiful face pulling forehead down to mine.

"Yes," whispered voice layered again mine and Lyra's. "Mark me, my King. Mark your debt."

He broke.

Mouth crashed to throat, not gentle. Hungry. Possessive. Huge fangs scraped pulse point making me arch and cry out, hands fisting in hair, tail wrapping around thigh, white eyes rolling back glowing brighter.

"Look at me," he growled against skin. "Look at me when I mark you White Queen. I want to see white eyes when you feel you are mine."

Forced eyes open glowing white locked on black-gold.

He bit.

Pain bright white-hot shot through neck through spine down to toes, then — Goddess — warmth so deep it was pain again so deep saw stars so deep back bowed off bed and cry tore from throat half howl half sob.

His venom black and gold and King poured into bloodstream into soul claiming branding overwriting every place Jaxon's half-formed rejection tried to leave cold.

_MINE,_ his beast roared through bond through head voice now inside me forever deep possessive reverent. _MINE MY QUEEN MY LUNA MY MATE._

_MINE,_ Lyra roared back, and felt her slam into his beast white fur meeting black fur inside shared soul space rolling then curling around each other purring.

Bond snapped tight complete true mark to true mark white fangs on throat black-gold fangs on mine both glowing silver-white and gold-black light pouring from both bites connecting us.

Outside Black Mountain exploded.

Every Lycan on mountain threw heads back and howled as one howl that shook snow off peaks miles heard in Blood Stone heard in northern packs heard across deadlands in vampire capital where ancient things opened eyes.

Their King had been marked.

Their White Queen had been claimed.

Far down mountain in ruined ballroom Jaxon Cole felt it like knife to chest felt last thread of could-have-been between him and me snap and burn to ash as another male's mark stronger older truer slammed into place and he collapsed to floor clutching chest.

Too late.

Under Rhazien glowing white marked black-gold his blood on lips my blood on lips both breathing hard both bites glowing lighting ruined bedroom.

He licked over mark soothing tongue hot hands shaking as he cupped face.

"My Queen," he whispered voice broken tears actually falling from gold eyes now white-ringed. "My Elara. My Luna. Do you feel how mine you are now? How yours I am? You are Lycan Queen. You are my wife."

Wife.

Word made white eyes flutter made tail thump.

Lyra sighed happy sleepy full of King blood.

_Good little wolf,_ she whispered curling up, _Now sleep. Let King guard first marked sleep. Tomorrow they will come. But tonight... we are marked and safe._

Rhazien rolled carefully pulling me with him so I lay on huge chest ear over heart hammering, white hair spread over black, huge hand stroking white ears white tail other hand holding fur throw over both.

Outside bedroom through broken doors heard Cain's voice low fierce choked with tears,

"Send word to every pack. White Queen lives. She has marked King. Blackthorn has Luna again. And if anyone thinks to take her tell them Beast King will end world before he lets her be rejected again."

Rhazien's chest rumbled under ear low purr that only Queens ever heard.

"Sleep little debt," he murmured into hair. "I have you. I finally have you."

And first time since I was days old I fell asleep not wolfless not worthless not rejected.

Fell asleep marked claimed glowing white in arms of Beast King who claimed my rejection and made it crown.

And fifty miles away raven made of shadow took flight from vampire capital carrying one message:

_She lives. The White One lives. In Blackthorn. In his bed._