I Rejected My Mate, The Prince

Chapter 8

**Clarissa’s POV**

My coronation ceremony is approaching rapidly, just three days away. It's the event that will officially crown me as the princess. They'll place a crown upon my head, but it comes with the weight of more excruciating responsibilities and burdens.

The most daunting of all is the fact that after my crowning, the Prince will publicly mark and claim me as his mate. They say a mate completes you, takes away your sorrows, and fills your life with love and happiness. A mate offers protection and safety. But why do I feel this inexplicable urge to flee before the ceremony? Before the Prince marks me? Before more people get to know my face, making my escape nearly impossible?

Yet, running away would mean becoming a rogue, cut off from my pack and the Kingdom. I'd never be able to return, as returning to my pack while still married would lead to my expulsion, and the Kingdom might decide to label me as a traitor. Being a rogue would mean I'd have no one's protection, and I'd be alone, homeless, scared, and in constant danger.

Conflicting thoughts swirl in my mind about running away. I'm torn, and I don't know what to do.

Restless, I toss and turn in my bed, groaning. Sleep eludes me because I'm waiting for 4:00 AM to head to the execution site. I need to ensure that the Queen has successfully relayed the message to the King, and that the execution won't proceed.

Three lives hang in the balance, all relying on me to save them.

A surge of dread washes over me as I close my eyes, turning my face away, hoping the Queen won't disappoint.

My heart races as I hear the doors of my apartment close, and I'm sure it's not Athena at this hour.

It could only mean one thing: the Prince is here.

I feign sleep, closing my eyes and turning my back towards the door, hoping he'll think I'm unaware.

The door opens and closes quickly. It's him; my beastly husband.

"Clarissa!" His voice thunders aggressively behind me. "What have you done? Get the f**k up right now."

Hands grab me and shake me vigorously, and before I know it, I'm tossed onto the carpet. My ribs painfully meet the floor, and I let out a yelp.

"Who do you think you are to interfere in my business?" He snaps, slapping me hard across the cheek. "You fvcking told the Queen to stop the execution I ordered, huh? Interfering in my authority for some lowlife scum, huh?"

Tears gather in my eyes. "Your Grace, I just wanted to do what's right. They don't deserve to die like that." My teary eyes plead for mercy.

Matthias doesn't deserve this fate. It's all my fault. I shouldn't have asked his name, I shouldn't have tried to connect with him, I shouldn't even have gone to the library in the first place.

"Did you think I didn't know what I was doing?" He yells at me harshly, "I'm so sick of putting up with your stupidity! I'll teach you a lesson for interfering in my affairs!"

"Please don't hit me. Have mercy, Your Grace." I start crawling away from him, but he pulls me back by the legs, grabs my hair, and pins me down on the carpet. "You're hurting me, Your Grace. Please. . ." I'm pleading as he removes his belt.

I know what's coming, and I can already feel the pain before it begins. He pulls up my dress, exposing my backside. His belt makes contact with my skin, and I cry out. But he warns me to be silent, or the lashes will increase. My backside burns with pain.

Every lash from my husband's belt fuels my anger, and I want to curse him, but I'm paralyzed by fear. I can't muster the courage to retaliate, because I’m afraid of making things worse for myself.

"Whether you like it or not, that lowlife you're trying to save will face an execution. Not even the Queen can stop me," he finally says before storming out.

I'm left alone once again, grappling with the pain and humiliation that gnaw at me.

Even in my previous life as a lowly Omega, no one had ever subjected me to such brutal treatment. My stepmother had been verbally abusive, but she steered clear of physical confrontations.

I sob in silence, my body trembling from the trauma of the lashes.

I seriously can't endure this any longer. Living with a husband like this is untenable. I need to make a definitive decision about my plans to escape. Even if it means becoming a rogue, I no longer care.

Bitterness rises in the back of my throat, but through my tears, I find the strength to stand up and dress myself. I can't abandon my fight for justice.

I select a proper gown for my outing, grab a flashlight, and drape a veil over my head to conceal my identity in case I encounter anyone on the way.

I'm headed to the execution site.

No matter how many times he beats me, I will not relinquish my fight for justice. It's ingrained in my very being. I'm an empath who cannot turn my back on someone in desperation. A compassion-driven person who would rather endure suffering than abandon those in need. I will never give up on Matthias and the other two prisoners whose lives now depend on me.