The scar before the claim
1160 Words
Riveron’s POV
“Ivan, get up. It’s time to leave.”
She stirs, slowly peeling open her eyelids. Her dark eyes meet mine, still hazy from sleep.
“Good morning,” she says, voice lazy with sleep.
I grunt.
“You need to leave. I have a full schedule today. That includes the visit to Crescent Moon Pack.” The irritation in my voice is barely concealed.
She sits up, the sheets falling to her waist, exposing the trail of hickeys across her chest and collarbone, all marks from last night. Her hand slides over my shoulder, fingers drawing slow, familiar circles against my skin.
“I can help calm you, baby,” she whispers, trying to purr.
My beast stirs with annoyance at her touch. I tolerate it, but he hates it.
“As much as that might be great, I need to get moving.”
I brush her hand off with a nudge.
She huffs. “Fine,” she mutters. “I will be in the bathroom if you need me.”
She rises without shame, stark naked, her hips swaying as she walked to the bathroom.
“You better not go after her,” Dax, my wolf, mutters dryly in my head.
“Shut up,” I reply as I rise to join her in the bathroom.
Three hours later, I step into the car with my beta, Daniel, and Ivan.
“Remind me again why you are going to that pack?” Ivan asks, clearly annoyed.
“You choose to tag along, Ivan. You could have stayed back, but you claim I need my head warrior beside me,” I reply without looking up from my iPad.
She scoffs under her breath. “Bloody wolves.”
I shake my head but say nothing.
We lycans are stronger, faster, more lethal, more in tune with our instincts. The wolves resent it, but they also fear it. And that is how it should be.
“Riveron,” Ivan drawls my name in that breathy tone again, “when are we having our mating ceremony? Don’t you think it’s time…?”
My gaze snaps to hers like a whip, cold and deadly.
“Ivan, we have talked about this countless times. I will say it again so it sticks to your brain. What we have is s*x. Two adults using each other for pleasure. I made that clear from the beginning and you agreed to it. Do not bring this up again. Are we clear?”
“Yes.”
“I asked if I’m understood, Ivan.”
“Yes, king.”
“Good.”
Daniel taps on the window divider. “We are here, Alpha.”
I step out of the car, eyes instantly scanning the setup. A line of wolves stands waiting in formation. Maddox is at the center, his face stretched into a forced smile.
He bows. “It is an honor to have you with us, Your Majesty.”
I don’t respond right away. My gaze sweeps the pack lands, nothing out of the ordinary for a small pack. Just bland, predictable, unimpressive architecture.
“Let’s get to business, Maddox. I have better places to be.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.”
I hear whispers behind us as he leads me through tall iron gates and into a massive ballroom dressed up like a celebration. A poor attempt to impress me.
The room bustles with servers, guards, wine bearers, and musicians. Different fragrances and cleaning scents fill the air. Daniel walks at my side, silent but alert.
We sit at the head of the table.
“Your Majesty, please indulge in our humble delicacies,” Maddox says, gesturing toward an overflowing table.
I do not touch the food.
“The last place I want to be is a pack of little wolves, Maddox. Don’t test my patience. If you have nothing to say, I will leave. What’s so urgent that it needs my attention?”
A stillness settles over the table. The air thickens. Maddox’s throat bobs as he swallows.
“Yes, Your Majesty. We have been having issues with the Blue Moon Pack. My council and I believe they are responsible for the death of three of our members found at the border.”
“We?” I ask, raising a brow.
“My council elders and I, sir.”
“And what evidence do you have to prove Blue Moon Pack is responsible?”
I drag a plate of fruit closer, poking it with a fork. I do not eat. I’m not here for food.
“Well, we don’t have a solid…”
A crash cuts him off. The sound of shattering glass echoes across the hall.
I do not move at first, then her scent hits me, a blend of vanilla bean and ripe peaches, so sweet I have to suck in my breath. Soft amber follows with a warm touch of wild honey and jasmine petals.
The scent is wild and intoxicating. I have never smelled something as beautiful as it. My fingers clench the fork so tight the metal bends under my grip.
Dax howls inside me.
“Mate!” he growls, frantic.
“Mate!!”
“You have got to be kidding me,” a young male voice mutters with disgust.
I turn and it’s Evans, the Alpha’s son, staring at her like she just ruined his already miserable life.
“Do you not know how to do anything right? How clumsy can you be?” he barks.
My eyes find her.
She scrambles to gather the broken dishes, fingers bleeding as shards cut into her skin. No one moves to help her.
“Stand up!” Evans yells.
She obeys, rising slowly.
Her deep auburn hair frames her face like fire, trailing down her back. The bright yellow dress clings to her caramel skin.
She lifts her face and my wolf goes still. Her right eye is swollen, her lips cracked, and her ocean-blue eyes are the most hauntingly beautiful I have ever seen despite the black bruise around it.
“I’m sorry, it slipped from…”
Her voice dies when Maddox’s palm slaps her face hard.
“You lowlife. Embarrassing me in front of my guest.”
My grip on the fork tightens even more until it bends beyond repair.
“Do you not know how to do anything right?”
He yanks her by the hair, fist clenched in the strands.
She winces but does not fight back.
He stoops, picks a sharp shard of glass, and grips her arm.
“I’m going to give you a scar,” he says. “This will teach you to act right.”
She tries to pull away, but she’s no match for his strength.
My chair scrapes against the floor as I rise.
“Touch her,” I say, my voice low and deadly, “and that will be the last thing you do with those fingers.”
- Writer
