When The King Claimed What Was Broken
1156 Words
Sage’s POV
Cyrus’s voice from earlier kept ringing in my head, echoing like a curse I couldn’t outrun.
“You don’t get to choose what I do with you. You were fated to me, and you will remain with me. YOU ARE MINE!!!”
The memory alone made my chest tighten.
That had been his response to me asking for rejection. Not anger, not debate. He wanted ownership.
And when I thought I couldn’t sink any lower, he had leaned closer, his eyes cold and calculating.
“Now get in there and do your duties, else you want your pathetic maid of a mother to suffer for it!”
That was when something inside me broke quietly.
I needed to find a way to get my mother out of here. Any way possible. Even if it cost me everything.
Days after that incident, my punishments increased.
Not formally or announced. Just… intensified. The air around me felt heavier, The looks of things became harsher and my patience grew thinner.
Mistakes that once earned silence now earned blows.
Tonight’s punishment started and erupted so fast I didn’t even have time to process what was happening.
“Who made this?” Cyrus’s mother, Luna Vera, asked sharply, irritation dripping from every syllable.
The maids froze but no one pointed.
One by one, their eyes turned to me.
I felt it before I saw it—the slow, inevitable shift of blame settling onto my shoulders like a familiar weight.
I stood there, frozen, the wooden spoon still clutched in my hand. For a second, I didn’t even understand what was wrong. My heart pounded as Luna Vera tilted the plate slightly, inspecting it like a flaw she had been waiting to find.
Then I saw it.
The meat was a shade darker than it should be. Slightly overcooked, and barely noticeable. The kind of thing that could be fixed with water, with spices, or even ignored completely.
But not tonight.
Not when she was already looking for a reason.
“You ruined my dinner?” Her voice rose as she stormed toward me, the plate trembling in her grip.
“I—I can fix it,” I whispered, my voice thinning with fear. “Luna, please, it was just a—”
My words dissolved into a scream I couldn’t swallow fast enough.
She slammed the plate into my arm.
Hot sauce splattered across my skin, searing instantly. The burn spread fast, vicious, and sharp. I stumbled back, dropping the spoon as I clutched my arm, gasping.
“This is what you serve the Alpha’s family?” she snapped. “This filth? This trash?”
“It was a mistake,” I managed, my voice shaking.
She didn’t care.
Her palm came down hard against my face.
My head snapped to the side, white spots exploding behind my eyes as my vision blurred. The room tilted, but I forced myself to stay standing.
Behind us, my mother’s voice broke through, desperate and trembling.
“Please, Luna… she didn’t do it on purpose.”
“Shut up!” Luna Vera barked without even turning.
She grabbed my dress, yanking me closer until her breath burned against my cheek. The anger in her eyes was something I couldn’t explain—too deep, too personal, too cruel.
“You’re lucky my son pities you,” she hissed. “If not for him, you would have been thrown out with the rest of the useless trash in this kitchen.”
Her fingers tightened until my chest burned for air.
Then she shoved me back and reached for a wooden spatula from the counter.
“Maybe this will teach you how to cook properly.”
The first strike landed on my shoulder.
Pain exploded through me.
Then another.
And another.
Each blow carried more than force—it carried intent. The kind meant to break spirit, not just skin.
My knees buckled.
I barely realized I was falling until the cold floor met me.
“Please…” I breathed, my voice cracking into pieces.
She didn’t stop.
Her voice sliced through the ringing in my ears.
“Look at you. Always causing problems. Always making excuses. Isn’t it enough that you’re wolfless? Must you contaminate everything around you too?”
Her words hurt more than the blows.
Something warm slid down my cheek. I thought it was sauce again.
But it wasn’t.
It was blood.
My blood.
She raised her hand again—
And then the air changed.
The room shook with a sound that did not belong there. A sound too deep, too powerful, too furious to be from any normal wolf.
A growl that was low but thunderous and ancient.
It filled the dining area, vibrating through bone and soul.
“How dare you lay your hands on her?”
The voice came from the doorway.
And when I looked up—
He was there.
The man from the night before.
The world stopped spinning.
“Ki… King Dominic?” Luna Vera breathed, her voice suddenly stripped of all authority.
King Dominic?
The realization hit me like a second blow.
It was the man who saved me.
The man whose arms had carried me like something fragile.
The Lycan King.
Before my mind could fully catch up, he crossed the room in three powerful strides. His hand locked around Luna Vera’s shoulders and lifted her effortlessly, slamming her into the wall.
She groaned in pain.
“Mother!” Cyrus roared as he rushed forward.
King Dominic released her without ceremony, letting her crumple to the floor.
I blinked rapidly, tears still clinging to my lashes.
He saved me. Again.
My heart raced, wild and confused. I didn’t know what to do—whether to stay, to run, to thank him, or to fear him.
The cruel Lycan King.
The man who looked at me like I mattered.
“T… thank you, Your Majesty,” I whispered.
My voice barely sounded like mine.
“If you’ll excuse me,” I added quickly, desperation clawing at my chest, “I’ll get back to work now.”
I needed to leave. I needed air. I needed distance from the chaos pounding inside me.
I took a step—
And he pulled me back in one swift motion.
My body crashed against his chest, solid and warm, stealing the breath from my lungs. The contact sent something sharp and electric through me.
“You’re doing no such thing,” he said.
His voice was low. Calm and absolute.
The room went silent.
“The only thing you’re permitted to do,” he continued, his gaze never leaving mine, “is to come with me.”
There w
as no anger in his tone, no cruelty, only finality.
And somehow… safety.
I knew, in that moment, that there would be no arguing.
And for the first time in my life—
I didn’t want to.
- Writer
