To Wed A Monster

Chapter Five

LUCIEN VEXMOOR’s POV

She blinked her eyes to force back tears and stared back at me, her breath broken down to shudders and her jaws tensed up and clenched. This little rabbit had a habit of acting out; her roar like a lion and her pride as a peacock, daring and unafraid.

But behind all that grit and doggedness, I saw her for what she truly was—a fragile little princess playing warrior. And like every other, she’d bend to my will soon enough.

I released her shoulders from the stone wall I had pinned her against. She slumped to the floor, whimpering quietly.

“Take her back to the dressmaker,” I ordered the nearest guard, whose face had gone pallid and gray. “I trust the brat will be more cooperative now.”

The guard reached to lift her, but she resisted and stood on her own.

“King Lucien,” came the call from behind me.

I turned to face the twelve elders, cloaked in judgment and heavy silence. Their faces were long, eyes glinting with restrained fury.

“You can’t let her walk away after publicly insulting you,” one said coldly, his voice steeped in contempt as he glared at the girl.

“It’s treason,” another added. “The Southern princess must be executed. “

I heard murmurs coming from the girl’s lips—small, panicked sounds. Her defiance had quieted, and fear now painted her face in bold, undeniable strokes. She could barely form words.

Was she breaking already?

How disappointing.

“Are you going to plead for your life?” I asked, tilting my head. “Crawl to the elders. Kiss the ground they stand on. Scrape your knees raw, and perhaps they’ll forgive you.”

She lifted her head slowly, and the fire in her eyes nearly knocked the breath from my lungs.

“I did nothing wrong to those charlatans.”

The courtyard erupted. The elders raised their voices in fury, pointing fingers, demanding her death.

Her foul mouth was beginning to grate on my nerves.

Zadek stirred. It had been years since anything provoked my wolf. He’d been dormant, buried beneath my control. But this—she—had roused something old and primal.

The nerve of this short, arrogant creature.

I inhaled slowly, trying to quell the rage burning in my blood.

“You truly want to die, don’t you?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She looked away and bit down on her bottom lip. “It would be better than staring at your hideous faces.”

The elders exploded with renewed fury, their robes billowing like smoke as they argued and cursed and screamed for blood.

She wasn’t making it easy.

I had only wanted to keep the girl alive for a few days, toy with her arrogance until she bowed. But if she wanted pain so badly…

“Fine,” I said. “Take her to the correction yard.”

CASTLE COURTYARD

She fought like a bear caught in a hunter’s trap, but her strength was nothing compared to a Lycan’s. The guards dragged her through the courtyard, forced her to her knees, and tied her hands to two upright poles, arms stretched wide apart.

“No… please, no,” she sobbed as they unzipped her gown and exposed her bare back to the merciless sun.

I stood before her with my hands folded, watching her wrestle with the chains. Three guards approached with whips soaked in toxins—the kind that tore skin and poisoned every nerve.

I whispered to them to use normal whips and they adhered. A whip like that could kill her with one strike and I didn’t want her dead. At least not yet.

Her screams shattered the morning air.

Each crack of the whip echoed through the castle like thunder. Every window was filled with watching eyes—maids, guards, courtiers—cheering and jeering as if it were some twisted sport.

Usually, I would’ve found this entertaining.

But today… I didn’t.

The louder she screamed, the tighter my fists clenched.

She deserved it. Every strike. Every tear. Every scream. And yet… Zadek was furious.

He paced within me like a caged animal, his snarls echoing through my bones. It was strange—Zadek never cared for anything except blood and dominance. But now, his anger wasn’t at her—it was at me for allowing this.

Why?

If I was heartless, then Zadek was the devil. He felt nothing—no pity, no hesitation. Only rage.

So why was he concerned?

“Enough!” I barked, raising my fist.

The guards froze, startled. Punishments usually lasted until the victim blacked out or died. They waited for a correction, but I offered none.

“Free her,” I ordered.

They untied her, and she collapsed, her back a shredded map of blood and bruises, trembling under the blazing sun.

She wailed, screeched, clawing at the air as if she could touch the agony slicing through her flesh.

Disgust twisted in my gut—not at her… but at myself.

This pity, this weakness I felt had to be silenced. And it had to be rid of my system quickly.

“To my chambers,” I said quietly.

They carried her to my quarters and placed her on the floor near the spring pool, steam coiling in the air.

I dismissed the guards and summoned two female attendants.

“Strip her of her cloths,” I ordered. “and bathe her.”

She was weak now. Her voice had dulled to winces and muffled sobs. Her swollen, bloodshot eyes found mine, and for the first time, I saw shame replace fire.

“In front of you?” she croaked.

I didn’t respond. Just nodded at the maids to continue.

She didn’t fight, not physically, but she lifted her head to the ceiling and sobbed like a fallen queen.

I stepped into the pool, letting the heat devour my skin. I knelt beside her, soaked a cloth in water, and pressed it gently to her ruined back.

She flinched, but I didn’t stop.

Her skin was as clear as porcelain, spotless and tender apart from her back which was bloody and marked with cuts and bruises.

I had done this to her. I had brought darkness and pain to this innocent mind.

The warm water wiped the blood away and stopped the bleeding, and after applying a few balms, her temperature came down.

She turned around in the pool to face me, her tormented eyes looking into mine..

Her body stilled. And then her lips parted. “Why are you doing this?”

Her voice sounded like a song, so soft and sweet. An average man would fall for the tricks of beauty and set her free, but I’m no average man. I’m Lucien Vexmoor and this sweet angel in front of me is the reason I have no love inside of me, she’s the secret to the darkness in my heart and void in my soul. She made me a beast, a terror, an omen.

I touched her hand and she gasped. Our eyes met, allowing me watch her whimper as my fingers trailed her arms until it got to her shoulder blade, right where a nasty mark indented her skin.

She followed my eyes and then looked at the scar. “It’s a birth mark. I was born with it. “

I scoffed. “No, it’s not.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? How do you know that?”

I sighed, wondering if I should tell her that I knew because I gave her the scar.

But I didn't want her to know. I didn't want her to flee from me.

I dropped my head under water and moved quickly, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her underwater with me.

The water swallowed us whole.

Everything softened—the water, the world, the noise.

Her body thrashed into mine, chest to chest, her hands clinging onto my shoulder as we both sank deeper into the pool.

In the green haze, her eyes met mine. They were no longer honey brown and youthful. No, they were everything at once; fire, storm , celestial and wild.

How could she glare at me, accuse me without words and still manage to look heartbreakingly beautiful?

Bubbles flowed out of her parted lips and she pulsed as her breath trapped in her chest, but i didn't let her go. Not yet. I wasn't done with taking in the sight of her dark, untamed hair or how it wrapped around her shoulders and cheekbones, framing her like a goddess.

I couldn't look away.

She gasped again, her grip on me becoming more desperate.

I watched her for a heartbeat or maybe two, and when she gasped again, I kicked off the pool's stone floor. Surging upward, i held her firm with me.

We broke the surface together in a splash of gasps. She shuddered, coughed, shivering as she rested her head on my chest.

I took a sniff of her hair and savored in the fading scent of jasmine oil.

She lifted her head and those doe eyes twinkled. Zadek stirred inside as his mating urge spiked.

It's been long since any woman had made me so hard, even the ones shaped and sculpted perfectly for a man's pleasure. Somehow this princess's petite body with small, rounded breasts was the key to my maximum arousal.

Her arms moved quickly to cover my exposed breasts. I smirked at the sight of her desperate attempt to conceal those hard, pink n*****s from me.

"I know you hate me." She sobbed as she moved farther away from me, sinking her body deeper into the water so only her head was above the surface. "You hate me so much, I can feel it."

"You're right, Princess." I confirmed, resting back against the pool wall.

I wished I could tell her that if she kept looking at me with those honey eyes, I might just lose control of the urge burning in my groin.

As if she could read my mind, her eyes lowered to the water. "If you don't want to kill me, what do you want from me?"

I sighed.

She lifted her face again, her eyes glistening with tears. "You want to make me a slave?"

I laughed and shook my head. "No, I'll make you my Queen instead."

She gasped, her Rees blinking uncontrollably. "What, I-I-I..."

Holding the rails, i stepped out of the pool and the female attendants quickly dried me off.

"But why will you do that?"

I scoffed at the door and looked at her helpless figure. "Your mother's dying wish was for you, her pretty baby to have a good life full of love and joy."

Her face went pallid again at the mention of her mother.

I shrugged. "I intend on making that wish never come true."

"Please don't do this." She sobbed.

"Too late, Princess." I murmured. "Our engagement party is tomorrow and your father will be in attendance."

"No!" She shrieked out, her eyes bloodshot and swollen.

"Misbehave tomorrow and your father's head will be served to you as dinner, but be a good girl and he might get to live another day."