Episode4
1064 Words
Killian's POV
The white silk of her wedding gown was draped over the backseat of the SUV like a shroud, and Rhea was slumped between Malachi and Rodger with her head lolling against Malachi's shoulder. The sedative was strong, but according to the clock on the dashboard, we only had twenty minutes before she woke up, and when she did, it was going to be violent.
"You realize Varick is going to declare war on this," Rodger said, his eyes fixed on the rearview mirror and his usual composure completely shattered. "k********g the bride on the way to the cathedral, it's a suicide mission."
"Let him come." I pushed the speedometer needle further right and watched the trees blur past. "He's not touching her, and no one else is either."
"She's going to kill us when she wakes up," Malachi rumbled from the backseat, his hand resting cautiously on her knee. He was looking down at her with an expression I'd never seen on him before, something close to reverence or worship. "She isn't the girl we threw in the tower anymore, Killian, she's something much more dangerous now."
"Then we'll just have to be more dangerous than her," I said, and meant it.
We pulled into the hidden service entrance of the Blackwood estate, and the manor loomed like a fortress in the moonlight, all stone and shadow and secrets. I didn't take her to the North Tower this time because that place was for prisoners, and whatever else Rhea was, she wasn't that anymore. I took her to my suite in the master wing, carrying her myself because I didn't trust anyone else to touch her. She felt lighter than I remembered, but her presence filled the room until I could barely breathe, like she was taking up all the oxygen just by existing.
I laid her on the oversized velvet bed, and the white dress spilled over the edges like a waterfall, all that silk and lace making her look innocent when I knew better. Her eyes fluttered, and a soft jagged moan escaped her lips, and I felt something tighten in my chest that had nothing to do with the Alpha bond.
"Killian?" she whispered, her voice thick with sleep and confusion.
I leaned over her and pinned her wrists to the pillows, caging her in. "Welcome home, Rhea, or should I say Mrs. Blackwood?"
Her eyes snapped open, and the silver shimmer was there instantly, cold and lethal and furious. She tried to buck me off, but I was an Alpha, and I was done playing games, done pretending I didn't want to keep her here forever.
"You're insane," she hissed, her chest heaving against mine. "The Council is five miles away, and my father's men will tear this house apart stone by stone."
"They have to find you first," Rodger said, walking into the room and shutting the door behind him. He began unbuttoning his shirt with deliberate slowness, his eyes locked on her. "And by the time they do, the marriage will have already been consummated by the wrong men."
Rhea's face went pale, and I could see her mind working, trying to figure out what we were planning. "What are you talking about?"
I leaned down until my lips were brushing the shell of her ear. "The merger, Rhea, you wanted our company and our territory. Well, we want our bloodline secured. You said it to yourself, you're the catalyst, the only one who can carry an Alpha's mark without dying."
"I am a Queen!" she screamed, struggling against my grip hard enough that I had to tighten my hold. "I am not your breeder!"
"You're both," I said, my voice dropping to something low and guttural that came from a place deeper than reason.
The door to the adjoining room opened, and Mrs. Halloway stepped in, the Pack's oldest healer carrying a tray of oils and a bowl of steaming herb-infused water. She didn't look at the screaming girl on the bed, only at me, waiting for orders like she'd been doing for thirty years.
"Is she ready, Alpha?" the healer asked.
"Not yet," I said, my gaze dropping to Rhea's lips and the way they were parted with her rapid breathing. "She still thinks she has a choice."
"Killian, don't do this," Rhea pleaded, and her silver eyes filled with tears that looked like liquid moonlight spilling over. "If you do this, there is no coming back. I will hate you for eternity."
"Then hate me," I whispered, sliding my hand from her wrist to her throat so I could feel the frantic pulse of her heart under my palm. "But you'll do it while carrying my heir."
I turned to the healer and let my face settle into something ruthless and final. "Prepare her, cleanse the scent of that Council lapdog off her skin, use the oils, and make her ready for the transition. The moon reaches its peak in three hours, and I want her primed for the breeding."
The healer nodded and stepped toward the bed while Malachi and Rodger closed in from both sides, their shadows falling over her like a cage made of bodies. Rhea looked at the three of us, and her breath hitched in a way that wasn't just fear; there was something else there too, something dark and twisted that had always burned between us, even when we were pretending to be a normal family.
"You think you can own me?" she whispered, a single tear tracking down her cheek.
I leaned down until my mouth was inches from hers, close enough to feel her breath mixing with mine, and my heart was drumming a war beat against my ribs that told me this was the point of no return.
"I don't think, Rhea," I rasped. "I know, and tonight you find out what happens when a wolf finally catches what he's been hunting for ten years."
I pressed my lips to hers in a kiss of pure possession that silenced whatever protest she was about to make, claiming her mouth the way I was about to claim everything else. As the healer reached for the first button of her wedding dress, a low, ominous howl echoed from just outside the window, close enough to rattle the glass.
The hunt wasn't over; it was just beginning.
- Writer
