Luna Helena

4

Alpha Mason entered the pack house without caring that his hunting boots were caked in mud. In fact, that was exactly what he needed—to dirty the floors so that when his wife saw the omegas cleaning, she would assume he had indeed hunted the elk his aides were now carrying into the kitchen.

He smiled, satisfied, when he saw his beautiful wife appear at the top of the staircase in the foyer. Every time he saw her like that—part solemn, part mysterious—he was reminded of the fifteen-year-old girl who, despite her young age, had already driven every Alpha in the realm mad, even those beyond its borders. Her beauty had become legendary, and all of them, no matter how old, had desired her for themselves. But only he, at the mere age of twenty, had the boldness and cunning to claim her, having taken advantage of the information his spies had gathered about the financial ruin of the father of that unparalleled beauty.

“Helena,” Alpha Mason greeted with the broad smile of a man who always wins. “Come down, I brought back a fine eight-point elk. Its head will look amazing hanging right there, where you always give me that look from your beautiful gypsy eyes.”

Helena curled her lips in disdain. She knew her husband’s fleeting good humor all too well and was perfectly aware he hadn’t been hunting—despite the crowd of omegas swarming at his feet, cleaning the filth he left in his wake.

“So easily you’ve moved on from your father-in-law’s death—my father’s death?” Helena exclaimed, without offering the admiration he was clearly fishing for. “You haven’t even come to ask how I’m doing. It’s as if his death made you the luckiest man in the world.”

“And I am, darling. Should I pretend otherwise?” Helena hadn’t expected such a shameless answer. “I’ve been lucky since the day you became my wife, beautiful. And I still am, despite your attitude—because I passed by your room last night and noticed you’d locked the door. I was coming to see you, to ask exactly what you now accuse me of neglecting.”

Helena scoffed. Of course that wasn’t true. Yes, he had come by her room—but she had locked it, and kept Claire close—because she knew his true purpose had been to punish her for the way she had shamed him the day before.

“I know that wasn’t your intention,” she snapped. “But I won’t argue. The stench of your mistress’s perfume is reaching me from here, and it’s nauseating. The least you could do is buy her something less vulgar.”

Alpha Mason’s smile disappeared in an instant. His face twisted into a look that sent a shiver down Helena’s spine. She had provoked him again, and now she had to say something—fast—to distract him, or he would rush up the stairs in Alpha speed and prevent her from locking the door again. And this time, he would punish her.

Luckily, Helena had just the words she needed.

“The crown prince’s Beta called, looking for you. Since you weren’t here, I took the call.”

The rage vanished, and Mason’s expression shifted once again—though not completely. It only took him a few seconds to realize how the lycan court might interpret his absence and the fact that a woman—his Luna—had been the one to answer such an important call.

His predator’s gaze, feline and cold, fixed on his wife. Now he saw her as prey.

“What did the lycans want?” he asked, unable to hide his disgust for their kind.

Helena’s shoulders lifted as she drew in a long breath. She hated having to recall a conversation that had left her humiliated, but she managed to hide the contempt that the prince’s voice had stirred in her.

“The crown prince is making an official tour of the kingdom’s packs,” Helena said, still standing at the top of the staircase. “He’ll be here tomorrow morning. His Beta called to make sure the reception will be worthy of his rank—and ours.”

She said that last part with veiled spite, even satisfaction. She knew how much Mason hated to be reminded that there was someone—no, an entire species—of nobility above him.

“You’ll handle it. That’s Luna business,” Mason barked, irritated—not at Helena, which was a win for her, but at the uncomfortable visit he would now have to endure. “I’ll deal with the little prince myself—and keep him distracted from the real reason he’s coming.”

That was new. Clearly, Mason had said more than he intended.

“What do you mean by the real reason for his visit?” Helena asked, with no filter.

His eyes, already stormy, rose to meet hers—sharp as a blade.

“That’s not a matter for women,” he snapped as he climbed the stairs fast. Helena trembled. She knew that kind of movement—quick, focused, full of repressed fury. She tried to move away, but not fast enough. Though she was also an Alpha, the male was faster, stronger, and quieter. He caught her by the waist and pulled her to his chest.

“We’re going to your room,” Mason growled, his grip unyielding.

There was no need to guess his intentions.

“Didn’t your b***h wear you out?” Helena shot back. “Seriously, you should take a shower. Her perfume reeks.”

Alpha Mason’s eyes narrowed, and Helena saw a small but unmistakable flash of red. His wolf was close—straining to come out—and that was never good.

Fenrir was not a gentle creature. Quite the opposite. He seemed to take pleasure in his human’s brutality.

Time to change tactics. Maybe she could try her luck.

“Maybe… we could take that shower together?” Helena suggested, using the softness and false innocence that once made suitors bleed for her.

Mason’s beast recoiled—visibly pleased.

“Let’s go. I want to take you already,” he said, aroused.

Helena let herself be led toward the bedroom, holding her husband’s hand in hers. She was going to try. She would be soft, submissive, pleasing—and once they were in bed, she’d whisper her hopes about the inheritance. Since no one was going to help her, she had to help herself. Maybe if she convinced him she still loved him, he’d grant her something. At the very least, she thought, she could ask for her wolf back.

Once in the room, Mason grabbed her again by the waist and kissed her. His lips were still stained with the lipstick of another woman, which made Helena sick—but she swallowed the urge to pull away, telling herself again and again: do it for your wolf. Do it for what’s yours by right.

“Let’s shower,” she whispered, when she thought Mason was sufficiently aroused.

She was wrong.

When she reached for his hand to lead him, he lifted her and threw her onto the bed.

Just like their wedding night.

Helena’s heart clenched.

That time, he hadn’t been kind. Even an omega caught in an Alpha frenzy would have been treated with more care than she had been.

“Mason—darling, what are you doing? I thought—”

A slap turned her face before she could finish.

“You thought you could mock me and get away with it? I still haven’t given you the punishment you deserve for how you humiliated me yesterday.”

How foolish she’d been to believe—once again—that this time would be different.

Mason was who he was. And he would never change.

“Bastard,” Helena spat, facing him. “Coward.”

A second slap silenced her. Her lips split open and bled.

If only I had my wolf!

She might not win—but by the Goddess, she’d make him fight for it.

That was the real reason he’d demanded her wolf be sealed in a phylactery. Not just to stop her from finding her fated mate—but to ensure she was no threat. Without her wolf, she had no strength. Even an omega was stronger than she was.

“Undress,” Alpha Mason ordered. “Let’s finish this.”

Resisting, in Mason’s current frenzy, would be a mistake. And Fenrir was already smelling the blood. If the beast took over, Helena wouldn’t leave the room alive.

So she obeyed. She just prayed he would finish quickly.

“You haven’t given me a child,” Mason said, eyeing her naked body. “What’s wrong with you? Do you want my bloodline to die out?”

Rage burned in Helena’s chest. She was an Alpha. Even without her wolf, it was in her nature not to back down from a fight.

“If only you weren’t so busy spilling your seed into every w***e in the pack—and actually put it where it belongs—”

Another blow. Fenrir growled in pleasure.

The beast fed on her blood.

“Forget your pack,” Mason sneered. “And you better start behaving… or I’ll exile your precious little brother.”

That was too much.

Helena dropped to her knees, wrapping her hands around Mason’s feet.

“No, please—I beg you. I’ll behave, just don’t hurt Agus. Please. I won’t speak of this again, I swear. Keep the pack—just leave him out of it.”

The Alpha smiled, satisfied. That’s how he liked to see a woman—on her knees. Whether facing him… or better yet, face down.

“I’ll think about it. For now, focus on giving me the heir I need.”

Humiliated, seething inside, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop him, Helena lay on the bed and let him take her. She drifted far away in her mind, anywhere but that room. But the disgust she felt was too strong. Her body didn’t respond.

When Mason climaxed, he spilled outside her.

“What…? You said—”

He grinned, cruelly.

“Try harder next time, or you won’t get what you need to do your part. And if you fail, your dear brother will pay the price.”

He was a bastard. A monster. A disgrace to the Goddess who had created their kind.

But the Goddess was already moving in her favor—though Helena didn’t know it yet.

Soon, she would learn the blessing that her protector had prepared for her.

“I’ll spare your brother. Today,” Mason said as he zipped up his pants, smiling with smug satisfaction. “You’d better learn to behave—and to please me—if you want my decision to hold. Otherwise, he’ll be just another rogue in exile.”