The Devil's Hidden Mate

The Devil’s Message

The Throne Room fell into a deadly silence following the scout’s report.

A hunting party from the Silver Moon Pack. Here.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a cold sweat breaking out on the back of my neck. Kaelen hadn't sent a patrol just to wander near the border. He sent a hunting party to make sure I was dead. He wanted proof that the "defect" had been taken care of by the cold or the rogues.

Valerius stood up slowly from his obsidian throne. The movement was deceptively calm, but the aura radiating from his massive frame was so dense it felt like gravity had just doubled in the room. His storm-gray eyes bled into a piercing, glowing crimson.

"Cassius," Valerius’s voice was a low, guttural vibration that shook the marble pillars.

The Beta stepped forward, his head bowed. "My King."

"Keep the Queen safe. Do not let her out of your sight," Valerius commanded.

He didn't grab a weapon. He didn't call for an army. The Devil of the North simply rolled up the sleeves of his dark tunic, exposing forearms corded with thick, lethal muscle. He was going to handle the Silver Moon wolves himself.

"Valerius..." The whisper slipped past my lips before I could stop it.

He paused at the edge of the dais and turned to look at me. The feral, murderous rage in his eyes softened for a fraction of a second when he saw the fear in my face.

"They are coming to finish what Kaelen started," I said, my voice trembling slightly. "They are ruthless."

Valerius walked back up the steps. He leaned down, placing one massive hand on the armrest of my throne, caging me in his intoxicating scent of dark spices and leather.

"They were ruthless, Elara," he corrected, his voice a dark, velvet promise. "Now, they are trespassers on my land. And no one hunts my mate."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear.

"Stay on our throne, little wolf. I will return shortly."

With that, he turned and stalked out of the heavy iron doors, moving with the terrifying speed of an apex predator.

For the next hour, I sat on the obsidian throne, my heart in my throat. The ten Lycan warriors in the room didn't move a single muscle. Cassius stood at the bottom of the dais, his hands clasped behind his back, a silent, immovable guardian.

I expected the Lycans to resent me. I was a pregnant, wolfless Omega from a weak pack in the South, sitting on their Queen's throne. But every time I accidentally made eye contact with one of the guards, they immediately lowered their gaze in absolute respect.

"They know what we carry," Lyra purred in my mind. She was getting stronger by the hour, feeding off the ambient Lycan magic of the fortress. "They smell the King's mark on our soul."

Suddenly, the heavy iron doors creaked open.

The scent of fresh snow and copper flooded the room.

Blood.

Valerius stepped into the Throne Room. My breath caught in my throat.

His dark tunic was soaked in fresh, crimson blood. It coated his massive hands and forearms, dripping onto the black marble floor with every step he took. The feral energy rolling off him was terrifying. He looked exactly like the monster the stories warned about—the Devil who slaughtered entire packs without breaking a sweat.

He stopped a few feet away from the dais, his chest heaving. His glowing red eyes locked onto mine, searching my face.

For the first time since I met him, I saw a flicker of hesitation in his gaze. He was waiting for me to scream. He was waiting for me to look at him with disgust, to call him a monster, to shrink back in fear just like the rest of the world did.

I didn't shrink back.

I stood up from the throne. The silk of my crimson dress pooled around my boots as I slowly walked down the obsidian steps. Cassius stepped aside, giving me a clear path to the King.

Valerius went completely rigid as I approached him.

"Do not touch me, Elara," he gritted out, his jaw clenched tight. "I am covered in filth. I will ruin your dress."

I ignored his command. I stopped inches from his massive chest, craning my neck to look up into his burning red eyes. I reached out, my small, pale hands gently taking his massive, blood-soaked hands in mine.

The blood was warm. It stained my skin, but I didn't care.

"You protected me," I whispered, my voice steady. I dragged my thumb over his bloody knuckles. "You are not a monster, Valerius. You are my King."

Valerius let out a shuddering breath. The crimson glow in his eyes faded back to that mesmerizing storm-gray. The feral beast inside him immediately submitted to my touch. Without caring about the blood, he dropped to his knees right in front of me, burying his face in the soft silk covering my stomach.

His massive arms wrapped carefully around my waist, avoiding pulling me too tight. He was a god of war, a king feared across continents, kneeling at the feet of a discarded Omega.

A collective gasp echoed through the Throne Room. Even Cassius looked shocked. Lycans did not kneel. Ever.

But Valerius didn't care who was watching. He was seeking comfort in his mate, and in the unborn child he had sworn to protect. I gently ran my fingers through his thick, raven-black hair, my heart swelling with an emotion so powerful it brought tears to my eyes.

"Cassius," Valerius spoke, his voice muffled against my stomach, though the authority in it remained absolute.

"Yes, my King," the Beta answered immediately.

"Tell the Queen what happened at the border," Valerius ordered.

Cassius cleared his throat. "The King intercepted a party of six Silver Moon warriors just as they crossed into the Dead Lands. They were tracking the Queen's scent."

I swallowed hard. "Are they...?"

"Five of them have been executed," Cassius reported, his tone entirely clinical. "The King ripped them apart with his bare hands. However, he spared the life of their leader, a Beta named Thorne."

My blood ran cold. Thorne was Kaelen’s right-hand man. He was the one who usually dragged me out of the attic by my hair when I was late for my chores.

"Why did you spare him?" I asked softly, looking down at Valerius.

Valerius slowly pulled his head back and looked up at me, a dark, terrifying smirk playing on his blood-stained lips.

"Because a dead man cannot deliver a message," Valerius answered smoothly. "I sent Thorne back to Kaelen. Without his left eye, and without his dominant hand."

I gasped, my eyes widening.

"And he is carrying a box," Valerius continued, standing up to his full, towering height. He gently cupped my cheek, smearing a tiny bit of blood on my jawline—a dark mark of his possession. "Inside the box is the Silver Moon crest they wore. And a note."

"What did the note say?" I breathed.

Valerius's eyes darkened, a deadly promise echoing in his next words.

"The North has claimed the Queen you threw away. The child she carries is now the Heir to the Lycan Throne. If any Silver Moon wolf ever looks toward my borders again, I will not send a warning. I will come for the Alpha's head myself."

Kaelen wasn't just going to be angry.

When he opened that box and realized the "defect" he discarded was now mated to the most powerful creature on the earth, carrying an heir backed by a Lycan army...

Kaelen was going to be absolutely terrified.

And for the first time in my life, a wicked, satisfying smile spread across my face.