Mated To The Wrong Alpha

Kiss My Bloodied Boot

Chapter 4

Leah's POV

There was something about him that seemed different from the Kilton I knew. He seemed darker, distant, and intimidating. The way his cold gaze pierced into my soul while he spoke sent shivers of fear down my spine.

“We’d get the rest of the gifts delivered to you, Alpha,” Shane said, his tone icy.

Kilton let his gaze roam around me, and with a flick of his wrist, he ordered Shane's guards to drag me to his ride.

Their grip tightened around me, a part of me wondering how much I'd fallen to be pulled like a rag doll into the vehicle, my body aching.

He joined us after a few minutes, the car roaring to life before it sped off. I sat stiffly watching him, my gaze fixated on the nape of his neck. He had this grim expression that suggested that he'd seen more during the time he left the pack than most wolves.

My lips parted, and I tried to call his name, but the words got stuck at the roof of my mouth. The ride to the Seaside pack felt longer than it should. He stared out the window, occasionally avoiding my gaze, his jaw set in a way that warned me not to speak.

I kept my hands clasped on my lap, my fingers tangled together as sweat beaded down my temples, washing the makeup away. A rough memory of the last time I saw him flickered across my mind. After I'd rejected him in the most polite way I could because I was in love with Shane.

I could remember the disappointment that masked his face when he took a step back and the hurt in his eyes.

When we finally crossed the cracked stone arch that marked the entrance of the seaside territory, Kilton exhaled softly. That was the cue I needed.

“Exhausted? I remember you never liked car rides," I said calmly. I had two things stuck in my mind: to strike up a conversation and overcome the fear that was sitting in my chest.

He paid no attention to my words, his eyes still fixed outside as the car rumbled on. When we arrived at the pack house, he stepped out, and I hurried after; it was unfamiliar territory after all—I'd rather be close to him than not. His living room was massive, but I was too disoriented to take in the beauty.

He sat comfortably on the couch, taking a shot of the branded whiskey that one of his men had brought.

“Kilton,” I called softly. “What happened to you?”

He exhaled calmly.

“You really want to know what happened after I left, Leah?” he asked quietly, pushing himself to his feet. His calm wasn’t real; he was holding himself together by the edges.

I nodded, watching him, trying to read the expression he thought he was hiding.

He let out a small, humorless laugh and set his drink down with a soft clink.

“I became a god, Leah.”

The words came out rough, like they had scraped his throat on the way out. “I was accused, beaten, and thrown out of my own pack like I was nothing. Like I hadn’t bled for every one of them.”

His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, and when he turned to me, they were darker this time.

“They left me to die, yet somehow, in the middle of that… the Luna goddess decided I was worth picking up. Worth remaking. She turned me into a Lycan Alpha—a weapon.” He swallowed hard. “So I could burn every throne that ever tried to break me. That’s what happened.”

He didn’t need to raise his voice. The pain was right there, sitting behind his eyes.

“That’s not you, Kilton,” I said softly. “Whatever they did… whatever you became… that’s not you. You’re not this monster you’re pretending to be.”

His eyes flickered, something flashing past it… hurt, anger, and fear, all fighting to stay hidden. When I reached for his chin though, he caught my hand too fast, too tight, like he didn’t trust himself to be touched.

Then everything snapped.

He shoved me back, the force causing me to hit my back on the wall and slump down gasping. I looked up through the pain to see that his eyes were a glowing red now, and his claws were pushing through his skin like he was losing the battle to the thing inside him.

“Kilton… stop,” I breathed, the pain sharp in my voice. “You’re hurting me. I’m just trying to talk to you.”

His face was inches from mine, his breath still warm, but his eyes had changed. Nails sharpened into claws right in front of me, curving like blades near my throat.

“Do not touch me again,” he growled, his voice turning huskier, deeper. “Touch me again and die.”

My heart stiffened, and I doubted if this was the same Kilton that had leaned close for a kiss in the woods. A lot had changed about him. My breathing came in short, haggard gasps as I stared into his eyes in terror.

But the longer I looked into his eyes, the more something inside me whispered that he was not gone. Not completely.

He was hurting.

He was drowning. But he did not know how to reach for help.

“Kilton,” I whispered, trying not to shake. “Look at me.”

He snarled, but he did not pull away.

“You are not going to hurt me,” I said. “I know you think you will. But you will not. This is not who you are.”

His jaw twitched, his grip loosening just a little. The air around us shifted, the tension bending, reshaping itself into something fragile.

“You do not know anything,” he murmured, but his voice cracked at the edges.

“I know that you are not a monster. Not to me.”

Something flickered in his eyes and his breath stilled, then slowly, but surely, the burning red in his pupils began to fade. His claws retracted, shrinking back into his fingers. He blinked, confusion washing over his face as if he did not understand what had just happened to him.

He stepped closer, and I flinched without meaning to, a fast, sharp movement that I immediately regretted. He leaned in, pressing his face near my neck, his nose brushing my skin.

My breath caught.

“K-Kilton… what are you doing?”

He did not answer. He inhaled deeply, as if trying to memorize something hidden in my scent. The closeness sent a strange shiver down my spine. My body reacted before my mind could stop it, a small sound escaping my throat, a half whimper. I bit my lips hard to silence it.

When he pulled back slightly, his eyebrows were drawn.

“How are you able to do that?” he asked quietly. “How are you able to calm my Lycan that way?”

I looked down at my hands. “I do not know what you mean.”

He stared at me, eyes narrowing.

“You are lying.”

“I am not.”

He stepped back and raised his voice, “Guard.”

A large man in black appeared within seconds, bowing. “Yes, Alpha.”

“Bring her in.”

I frowned. “Bring who in?”

Kilton did not answer. His expression stayed stone-cold as the guard left.

Moments later, the heavy double doors swung open. And she walked in.

I had never seen a woman like her.

She was tall, strikingly tall, and her dark hair fell in waves down her back. Her eyes were a deep and impossible shade of blue. The kind of blue that almost hurt to look at because it did not seem natural. Siren eyes. Hypnotic and deadly at the same time. Her curves were so defined they looked carved, the kind of body sculptors would kill to recreate.

Her entire outfit was made of leather. A tight black bodysuit that hugged her like a second skin and boots that rose to her knee. Both were splattered with blood, and so was the sword she carried over her shoulder as if it weighed nothing. She walked with feline energy, and she smiled when she saw Kilton.

“I just finished dealing with the Omegas,” she said, her voice smooth. “They will not be a problem again.”

Before I could blink, she leaned in, her lips meeting his as she kissed him fervently, smearing his lips red with her lipstick. I swallowed a lump of something hot and bitter.

Kilton did not kiss her back, but he also did not push her away. He only looked in my direction.

“Make her feel at home.”

The lady’s attention snapped toward me. Her eyes narrowed in amusement, like she was studying prey that had already been caught.

“Well,” she said, stepping closer. The blood on her boots left prints on the marble floor. “So this is the little slave you brought?”

I felt my stomach sink. She tilted her head dramatically.

“I can already smell your fear.”

Her presence filled the room, haunting and deadly. She ran her gloved fingers along the sharp edge of her sword, as if reminding me what she was capable of without saying a word.

“I wonder,” she murmured. “Do you break easily?”

My throat tightened. “I am not here to cause trouble.”

She chuckled. “Oh, but trouble is the only reason you are here.”

She took another slow step until she stood directly in front of me. She looked down, her lashes lowering before she lifted one bloodstained boot, placing it inches from my feet.

“If you want to survive your first day here,” she whispered, “kiss my feet.”