Marked by the Alpha King’s Remorse

Garden of Ghosts

Violet Graves

“Violet, run now!”

“I can’t! Luna is suffering . . . ” The words tore from my throat as I lunged toward the Lycan-blooded Queen, her regal form crumpling, blood bubbling from her lips like dark roses. I reached for her . . . desperate, frantic but a sharp prick burned into my neck. Silver. Liquid fire racing through my veins. I screamed, the world tilting into black.

“No!”

I bolted upright in bed, chest heaving, sheets twisted around my sweat-slicked body. Alone. Always alone in this room that smelled faintly of him, pine and storm and something feral.

The dream clung to me like cobwebs, vivid and vicious, but it couldn’t be real. Could it? My mind had been playing these cruel tricks ever since I woke from the coma, fragments that didn’t fit, memories that slipped through my fingers like smoke. Xaverius kept accusing me of things I couldn’t remember, things that made my head split open.

But last night . . . last night was real. His weight pinning me down. His hate poured into me with every brutal thrust. The way he’d torn me open, body and soul, and how, shamefully, some twisted part of me had craved it. I needed it despite the soreness between my legs. My skin still remembered the ache between my thighs, the ghost of him deep inside, marking me even as he cursed my name.

I pressed my thighs together, heat flooding my cheeks. No wolf stirred to answer the ache. She was still buried somewhere in the dark, comatose, leaving me weak. Human-weak. The Senior Warrior had confirmed it: I’d been out for months, maybe longer. All I knew was him—Xaverius—and the venom he fed me daily. Yet my stupid heart refused to listen. It beat for him anyway, bonded and blind.

“Hmm. You okay, beautiful?”

I nearly leapt out of my skin. Darius leaned against the open doorframe, arms crossed, that lazy half-smile playing on his lips like he owned every secret in the room.

“You didn’t knock,” I said, but a reluctant smile tugged at my mouth.

His dark eyes glinted, thick brows arching. “You were crying in your sleep. Figured manners could wait.” He shrugged, voice dropping into something warmer, smoother. “Besides, the Alpha’s in council bullshit. Someone has to check on his pretty future little Luna.”

Heat crept up my neck. He was the only one who ever smiled at me like that—like I wasn’t broken goods. “Give me a minute to make myself decent?”

“Take all the time you need,” he murmured, eyes lingering just a beat too long. “I’ll wait. Luna.”

The word rolled off his tongue like silk, and I laughed despite myself. It sounded right in his mouth. I don’t even know if I’d truly become Xaverius’ Luna considering the way he treats me. But right.

I showered fast, the hot water washing away sweat but not the soreness between my legs. Threw on a simple sundress, pale blue, soft cotton, and stepped out to find him waiting, posture relaxed but eyes sharp.

“Violet Graves,” he said, like he was tasting the name. Then quieter, almost to himself: “I’ll be in deep s**t if the Alpha finds me sneaking you out.”

I lifted my chin. “Then I’ll tell him I forced you. I need air, Darius. Real air.”

He chuckled in a low, warm way and fell into step beside me as we slipped through the halls and out into the gardens. I drifted toward them like a moth, fingers brushing velvet petals. Memories flickered. hands stained with soil, laughter, someone calling me flower girl but they vanished before I could grasp them.

“You don’t have to be scared of me, Violet,” Darius said softly, coming up behind me. Close enough that I felt the heat of him.

I glanced over my shoulder, arching a brow. “Who says I’m scared?”

His grin was slow, wicked. “Good. I’d hate to think I don’t have a shot.”

I rolled my eyes, but my pulse skipped. I reached for a perfect crimson bloom, and the thorn bit deep. Blood welled instantly, bright against my skin. The sight slammed into me: flashes of red on snow, a woman’s scream, silver burning—

Darius caught my hand before I could jerk away. “Hey. Easy.” His thumb brushed over the cut, gentle, steadying. “It’s just a scratch.”

“I mind,” I whispered, voice cracking.

He stepped closer, strawberry-blond hair catching the light as he tilted his head. “Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was velvet teasing now. “If Xav hears you yelling at me, he’ll have my head on a pike.”

I shoved at his chest—half-hearted. “Then tell me why you really brought me out here.”

He sighed, expression sobering. “I need you to work with him, Violet. Really work with him.”

I laughed, sharp and brittle. “You think I’m not trying? I care about him—”

“Then stop lying,” he said quietly. “Tell him the truth. About the war. About what you did. Who you killed.”

The words hit like a slap. “Who did I kill, Darius?” My voice broke. Tears burned hot. “Why does everyone keep saying that? I don’t remember—I can’t—”

He reached up, thumb sweeping a tear from my cheek. His other hand cradled my bleeding finger like it was something precious. “Shh. Don’t cry, Graves.” His smirk returned, softer this time. “The real you wouldn’t do tears.”

I stared into his eyes, searching for lies, finding only warmth. The garden faded around us.

“Are you both f*****g kidding me right now?”

Xaverius’s voice cracked like a whip. We sprang apart, Darius releasing me slowly as the Alpha King stalked into the clearing, hands buried in his pockets, posture deceptively casual. But his eyes… God, his eyes were molten fury.

And I hate that my heart always beats for danger.

Darius lifted both hands, grin widening. “Relax, Alpha. She was going stir-crazy in that bed of hers.”

Xaverius’s gaze sliced from Darius to me, lingering on my tear-streaked face, my bleeding finger, the proximity we’d shared.

“And you thought you’d play knight in shining armor?” he asked Darius, voice low, mocking. “Make her feel good while I’m handling actual pack business?”

My stomach twisted. I swiped at my cheeks, hating how small I suddenly felt.

Xaverius closed the distance in three strides, fingers clamping around my wrist like iron. Not painful—not yet—but possessive. Territorial. “Touch her again,” he told Darius, voice deadly soft, “and I’ll execute you myself. Slowly.”

Darius laughed, unbothered, brushing past him. As he went, he leaned in just enough to murmur, “Easy, Xav. Trigger her memories too hard and she might die before you get your precious truth.”

Xaverius’s grip tightened, knuckles whitening on my wrist. His eyes never left mine—burning with hate, yes, but something else too. Something that looked a lot like fear.

And it terrified me more than anything.

I watched Darius disappear down the path, his easy stride never faltering even after Xaverius’s threat. My stomach knotted with guilt—sharp, sickening. Why wasn’t I ever afraid when that venom was aimed at me? But the thought of someone else bleeding because of me… it made my chest cave in.

Xaverius’s fingers were still locked around my wrist like a shackle. “Getting attached already?” he hissed, voice low and lethal. “Too f*****g bad, Graves. You’re not going to last long enough to enjoy it.”

The words sliced deeper than I expected. I yanked against his grip, anger finally igniting through the haze of need that always fogged my brain around him. “If you hate me this much, then let me go!” My voice cracked in the open air. “Darius didn’t drag me out here—I begged him. I needed to breathe. He’s a good—”

He released me so abruptly I stumbled, knees buckling, palms scraping gravel. Before I could catch my balance he was on me again, fingers digging into my chin, forcing my face up to meet those storm-black eyes.

“What did I f*****g tell you?” he snarled, breath hot against my skin. “I will gut my own Beta if it means stripping every last scrap of happiness from your life. You don’t get to smile. You don’t get to feel safe. You don’t get anything here except what I decide to give you—and right now, that’s nothing.”

Tears stung, but I refused to let them fall where he could see. He hauled me the rest of the way to his chambers in silence, each step echoing like a countdown. The heavy door slammed behind us, sealing us in with the scent of him—pine, smoke, and something metallic that might have been old blood.

I swiped at my cheeks furiously before turning. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring at me like I was a stain he couldn’t scrub out. My gaze drifted past him to the photographs lining the shelves—dozens of them. A woman with dark hair and a crooked, radiant smile. Laughing in sunlight. Cradling a rounded belly. Kissing his cheek. Every image a knife.

“Curious?” His laugh was hollow, vicious. “That’s Zerypina. The woman you stole from me. The woman you murdered.”

“I didn’t—” The denial burst out of me, raw and desperate. “I didn’t kill anyone. I wouldn’t lie about the bond—I feel it, Xaverius, I feel you—”

“Stop.” The single word cracked like a whip. He wouldn’t look at me, eyes fixed on the floor. “Just stop.”

“Why?” My voice trembled. “Tell me why it has to be a lie.”

He lifted his head slowly, and the disgust in his gaze shattered something inside my chest. “Because Pina was my equal. My true Luna. The only one the bond was ever meant for. Whatever poison you’re feeling is fake—manufactured, forced, wrong.” He stepped closer, towering, voice dropping to something deadly soft. “You’re embarrassing yourself clinging to it. You’re only breathing right now because I’m trying to crack that empty skull open and drag out the truth—who you were protecting when you slaughtered her. When you slaughtered my child.”

The air left my lungs. Child. The word hit like a fist to the sternum.

“I… I have no memory of—”

“Lies.” He slammed me back against the wall, palms braced on either side of my head, caging me. His eyes were bloodshot, wild with pain older than I could fathom. “I had a daughter on the way. Pina was glowing the day you took her from me. She died reaching out to someone she thought she could save. And that someone was you, you took advantage of her kindness before you took her breath away.”

Tears spilled now, hot and unstoppable. I could feel his grief like it was my own—raw, hemorrhaging, endless.

“I’m—”

“Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.”

His jaw flexed, veins standing out in his neck. “If you don’t start remembering—if I find out you’ve been playing this amnesia game to buy time—I won’t wait for the Council. I’ll kill you myself.” A bitter, broken smile twisted his mouth. “The bond will probably finish the job anyway the second I reject you. You’ll feel every artery in your body tear open when I cut you loose.”

He leaned in until our foreheads almost touched, voice barely a whisper. “And I will enjoy watching it happen.”

Then he shoved away from the wall, leaving me sliding down it until I hit the floor, hugging my knees, choking on silent sobs while he stared at the pictures of the life I’d apparently destroyed.

I didn’t know if he was telling the truth.

But for the first time, I was terrified he might be.