A bite from an Alpha King

Chapter Eight

Valerio

“Aaaah!”

I hurled the glass in my hand at the fireplace, watching as the flames flared briefly, fueled by the alcohol, before settling again. I hadn’t even tasted the bourbon before anger surged through every part of me.

“How is this going to end?” I muttered under my breath, running a hand through my hair and tugging at it.

I hoped the slight pain would clear my thoughts, but everything was a mess—a mess I didn’t know how to fix. I sighed heavily and leaned my forehead against one of the bedposts.

What is this female doing to me after only a few hours?

“My king?”

Loud knocking echoed through my room. I knew my men were eager to talk about what had happened in the fighting pit. But I wasn’t in the mood for that conversation. Still, I knew they were confused and they deserved answers. I groaned, pushing myself away from the wooden bedpost, and walked to the double doors with their golden edges and handles. I stopped, resting my hands on the cool metal, and closed my eyes for a moment, bracing myself for the reality waiting on the other side. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and yanked the doors open. My most trusted inner circle stood before me. The same expression was plastered across all their faces. The same question burned in their eyes: what the hell is going on?

“It had to be done,” I muttered, storming past them toward my office, knowing they would follow.

“My king, what happened out there? How could you mark her?” Garrett demanded. He was angry and rightfully so.

It was clear they were growing restless with uncertainty, but I wasn’t ready to give them the full explanation. Not yet. Not until I had a drink without throwing it across the room. I entered my office and immediately crossed to the table lined with bottles of alcohol and crystal glasses. It took three drinks before I could finally turn to face them. The alcohol coursed through my veins, calming my wolf enough for me to think clearly.

I sank into the chair behind my desk and studied my men. Confusion still clouded their faces. My eyes lingered on Zane a moment longer. He seemed more furious than confused.

Did he want me to kill his sister? Why did he despise her so much?

“How could you do that, my king?” Garrett finally broke the heavy silence.

I held my fourth drink, swirling the amber liquid as I stared into the glass. After a few moments, I set it down and folded my hands in front of me.

“I couldn’t kill her,” I said bluntly.

My men exchanged glances, confusion deepening. Chris—tall, blond, with piercing blue eyes—stepped forward, anger flashing across his face.

“What do you mean you couldn’t kill her? She deserved to die!” he snapped, earning nods of agreement from the others.

“If I had killed her,” I said slowly, “I would have died too.”

That only confused them more. They looked at one another, clearly hoping someone else understood my meaning. No one did.

“What do you mean, my king?” Garrett inquired.

I sighed and rubbed my tired eyes before meeting theirs again.

“She is my mate,” I admitted.

The room fell into suffocating silence.

“What?” Garrett whispered.

Our eyes met, and I saw him narrow his as if trying to decide whether I was joking.

“I knew the moment I grabbed her by the throat when she came at me with a knife.” I leaned back in my chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on me.

“And you didn’t think to tell us?” Garrett accused.

“And then what?” I snapped. “Would that have changed your opinion of her?”

No one answered. No one even looked at me.

“That’s why I hoped to make her submit to me,” I continued. “To prove to all of you that she would abandon this insane vendetta. And because—”

“Because?” Garrett pressed.

“We all know what happens when a wolf finds a true mate, the power between them. And it’s even stronger when you’re born an alpha. Our nature is purer. More possessive. The chances of me keeping my sanity intact or even staying alive after killing her are pretty much nonexistent.”

Silence followed. But this was something we were taught from birth—the power of a true mate bond, a pair chosen by the Moon Goddess herself. Why she chose this exact pairing was beyond me. Perhaps she had a cruel sense of humor.

“So I couldn’t kill her,” I continued. “I had to… keep her alive and tied to me in some way.”

The quietness persisted, giving me a moment to collect myself. I covered my eyes and rubbed them, trying to calm the chaos inside me. A chaos that hadn’t formed solely because of tonight’s events. This was Octavia’s echo inside me, something I now had to learn to live with.

“So what do we do with her?” Evan asked. He was usually one of my quieter warriors, so hearing him speak up surprised me. I looked up, meeting his dark eyes, though on rare occasions, the warm brown beneath showed through, matching his hair.

“For now, nothing,” I replied, drawing their attention back to me. “If we let her out, she’ll kill me. If we keep her locked up forever, I’ll slowly lose my mind.”

“But how can we do nothing?” Chris demanded.

“We have some time before it becomes unbearable for me to be away from her,” I explained. “That gives us a window to figure out how to control her. The question is, with what? She doesn’t fear death. She has no loved ones. We took everything from her when she was a child.”

My head pounded beneath the weight of it all, and I groaned in frustration. The effect of my mark likely wouldn’t last. I had caught her off guard, but that wouldn’t keep her subdued forever. My jaw clenched as I scanned my men again. My eyes settled on Zane, who stood farther back, half-hidden behind the others.

“Zane,” I barked, snapping him from his daze.

He jumped slightly and stepped forward at my gesture.

“What do you know about Octavia’s real family?” I asked.

“Nothing, my king,” Zane replied, confusion flickering across his face. “I told you. My father found her in the woods. She’s just a rogue’s child.”

“Her eyes are silver,” I growled. “Rogues have black eyes.”

Zane shrugged, but I could tell he was withholding something. His shifting stance and the flicker of guilt in his expression gave him away. He knew something. I narrowed my eyes, and under the weight of my stare, he lowered his gaze to the floor.

Pathetic.

I might be king, with more alpha power than most, but Zane barely carried himself like one at all. It was difficult to believe he was the former king’s son.

“You don’t know anything?” I pressed, my tone dark enough to make it clear I knew he was lying.

Zane glanced around nervously, clearly torn between silence and confession.

“My father kept journals,” he finally admitted, his voice low.

“You still have them?” I asked sharply.

He nodded.

“Good. Bring them to me,” I ordered, waving him away.

He didn’t look pleased, but without another word, he left the room.

“What about the rumors, my king?” Chris asked. “People are already talking. They saw everything.”

I sighed and closed my eyes briefly. There was no point denying what had happened.

“Tell them the truth. Tell them who she is to me,” I said.

Unease rippled through the room. They clearly didn’t like the idea, but we had no alternative.

“And Selene?” Damian asked cautiously. “Alpha Michael won’t be pleased that you’ve marked someone else.”

Sh*t. My promise to Alpha Michael.

Technically, I could still mate with his daughter. I hadn’t completed the full mating ritual with Octavia. But Octavia would carry my mark forever. Still, I had given my word. And if I broke it…

“Invite them here,” I said. “I’ll tell them the truth myself. I’ll explain that Octavia remains alive only because of me and that Selene will be my queen.”

With that, I dismissed the others. Yet the thought of marking and mating with Selene made my stomach churn. I knew why. Marking Octavia had felt overwhelming—hearing her voice in my head, feeling her warmth against me. I closed my eyes, remembering the heat that radiated from her body. It had intensified after the mark, and when we touched, it had felt like lightning, electricity surging between us. I opened my eyes again, feeling a slow smile forming. You hear stories about finding your mate. None of them compare to the real thing.

She’s mine, I thought, clenching my fist.

***

“The Silver Howlers,” I whispered.

I slammed the journal shut, the sharp sound echoing through the office. An hour of searching and still nothing useful. The most recent entries were barely readable, filled with mad scribbles that made no sense. But as I had skimmed through the older pages, I found a more coherent voice.

In the earliest entries, I caught a glimpse of the man Xavier once was. He wrote about the Alpha Council and their dissatisfaction with the royal family. It was there that a name appeared: the Silver Howlers.

“How is that possible?” I murmured.

Thinking back to my own family’s history, I tried to recall what I knew about the Silver Howlers. They were gone, destroyed by my bloodline because of a legend. A legend that claimed they had been blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. They were considered a threat, and with them wiped out, the alphas earned their seats on the first council.

So how can Octavia be… this?

But Xavier’s words were unmistakable. She was the last Silver Howler, and she carried blessed blood. With the right training and guidance, she could become more than deadly. Though I wasn’t sure he had seen her only as a weapon, something stood out in his journals: he had wanted to make her his heir.

“That snake,” I muttered.

No wonder Zane had betrayed his father. He must have found the journals, realized Xavier planned to replace him with Octavia, and plotted his death. It explained everything. I shook my head. Xavier had been right to consider replacing his son. Zane wasn’t alpha material. But I wondered: was Octavia?

The Silver Howlers had been known for their wild nature. They were more in tune with their wolves, driven by instinct rather than reason. That was likely one of the reasons they never took the throne. They preferred living as wolves rather than humans.

So how much of a Silver Howler is Octavia?

I say we go check, my wolf murmured in my head.

“Look who finally woke up,” I replied dryly.

I’m as interested as you are. I want to know everything about our mate. And this is about her, he said, then attempted to take control of my hand, guiding my finger back to the words Silver Howler.

I shook my head and regained control, irritated by how openly he emphasized his interest in her.

So let’s go see her, he urged.

“You just want to be near her. Silver Howler or not, you’d want to see her.”

Is that shocking? I thought when I shouted ‘mate’ for you, I made things abundantly clear.

He had.

“And I hope I made things clear as well,” I muttered.

You marked her. Yes, things are clear.

“Not that part,” I said quietly, only to be flooded again with the memory of it. The power of it.

As if I were reliving the moment, I felt it all over again. Never had a sensation or memory been this overwhelming. It didn’t feel like something that would ever fade.

I hope you’re not speaking of that foolish idea you suggested to the others, my wolf growled.

“Why not?” I asked.

Because I hoped that was mere talk to buy time.

“Time for what?”

Time for our mate. Her. Us. Alone.

The slight shift in his tone, the almost flirtatious sensation I felt from his side. His plan was unmistakable.

“Absolutely not. I’m keeping her for my sanity, that’s it. And you know what we promised Alpha Michael. With the second-largest pack in the United States, you know that if we betray him, it means war,” I warned harshly.

I’m sure we can work something out.

“I’m certain you are not thinking clearly, already obsessed with her,” I snarled. “He is the reason I’m even sitting here today. How can I repay that by denying him what he so dearly wants: the throne?”

Exactly. He does this for power, to secure his own legacy by placing his daughter with us. How is that honorable?

“How are we honorable if we go back on our word?” I shot back.

But we wouldn’t just be breaking a promise. We’d be keeping one.

I felt confused. His logic made no sense.

Now go. Go see her.

“Why?”

You want to figure her out. You want to win her over to our side? Then you need to speak to her.

I rolled my eyes. “As I said, you just want to be near her.”

The bond is powerful.

“It doesn’t work on her,” I reminded him, feeling a sudden sadness thinking about how unaffected she had been. I quickly pushed the sensation away.

“So, she won’t give me any answers, and she is too brainwashed to listen. I mean, if only she could hear her own father telling her…” I trailed off as realization struck me.

That’s it. I rose abruptly from my chair and left my office, seeking someone to assist with my plan.

What are you thinking? my wolf inquired.

I didn’t respond. Instead, I mind-linked one of my men and ordered him to bring chains. Hurrying to my room, I began moving furniture, scanning the space for the perfect position.

Really? What are you planning? he pressed.

“I’m giving you what you want,” I muttered, “while getting what I want.”

Our mate?

“Her loyalty.”

He huffed. You may have forced her to submit by marking her, but you feel it too: her anger. She is not loyal.

“She will become it,” I replied coldly. “Or at least trustworthy enough for me to let her walk around freely.”

I still don’t understand.

There was no time to explain. My eyes settled on the wall directly across from my bed. I walked toward it and leaned my back against it, facing the bed as if I were standing in her place. Then I turned and nodded to myself.

“This will do.”

My wolf paced restlessly inside me, but a knock broke the silence.

“Enter,” I called.

Chris pushed the door open, a teasing smile already forming on his lips. “You ordered chains?”

The loud clinking of metal echoed as he dragged them inside. Holding one end, he swung it casually, chuckling.

“So,” he grinned, “what kind of kinky business are you planning for your queen-to-be?”