The Ruthless Lycan's Hybrid Priestess Mate

Mate.

Daciano

How has my life come to this? I look at myself in the mirror, my reflection as grim as my thoughts. As the Alpha, the weight of the entire kingdom sits heavily on my shoulders. Every decision, every sacrifice, is for the kingdom. The king's needs always come second. An heir. They demand an heir from me. It's a necessity that I can't avoid. With that thought, I steel myself and make my way to the courtroom.

The air is thick with anticipation as I enter. Everyone immediately standing straighter. But I’m barely in when a captivating scent catches my attention. A delicate blend of jasmine and sandalwood fills the air, and my head turns in its direction instinctively. There, standing among the others, is a girl with wild blonde hair framing her small face.

She looks young, in her early twenties. Unlike everyone else in the room, who have their heads bowed, she stands tall, meeting my gaze. Confusion clouds my mind as a peculiar sense of familiarity courses through my every nerve, stirring a part of my Lycan instincts that have been dormant for a while.

No. It cannot be. Second chance mates are a myth, a mere fantasy. Yet, the young woman before me challenges this very belief. Her untamed blonde locks frame her youthful features, and her unwavering gaze meets mine. Something flickers in her eyes, as she looks at me… really looks at me. Does she feel this too? A shadow of doubt darkens my thoughts as I realize the absence of a werewolf aura surrounding her. Human. The realization hits me like a thunderbolt. Fate cannot be so cruel as to present me with another impossible match. Just the sight of her, and her fragility makes me think back to Freya’s accident, and I close my eyes to dispel the images.

My eyes stray back to her. Her irises are light amber, surrounded by a dark ring, almost like coffee. I can't seem to look away. The intensity of her gaze is unnerving. "Alpha, is something wrong?" a guard asks, breaking my reverie. I barely register his words, as I inwardly curse my reaction to this female standing before me.

I shake my head, as though to dispel the thoughts and make my way all up to the Dias. Taking my seat, I signal for the formalities to begin. One by one, the girls are presented before me, but I find myself dissociated from the entire process, not even remotely impressed by any of the other girls. My gaze keeps drifting back to her, my head still unable to wrap itself around the fact that this human can be my mate.

After the girls are paraded, everyone waits for me to make my choices, but it’s already done. I’d made my decision right from the moment my eyes met hers across the room. When I eventually pick only her, I can tell everyone is shocked by this.

"You're my property now, and you'll do well to remember that," I say, running a hand through my long dark hair, my voice bone-dry. I despise this bond, but I can’t help the sadistic part of me that wants to keep her close, even if I’ll never accept her or what she stands for.

"No." The word is weak, but I hear it. My gaze snaps to her, and everything inside me goes taut, like a string pulled too tight, ready to snap. I stare at her, my expression deliberately blank, but my eyes are fuming. Audible gasps ripple through the courtroom at her audacity.

"I'd rather die than be that," she blurts out, mutiny clear in her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I fight to control the anger rising within me. Ever since Freya's death, I've been balancing on the brink of rage like the thin edge of a sword. But even I am surprised by the coolness of my voice when I speak.

“That can be arranged.” I tap my finger to my lips, then pretending to think, I add, “But you dying means I've lost money, and I don't like to lose.”

Then turning turns to the guard at my side, I say, “Take her to the isolation room. Leave her there until she learns to behave.”

As the guard seizes her by the arms and begins to lead her away, her eyes are fixed on me, defiance clear in them. She doesn’t beg once.

***

Goddessdamned that girl. It’s been days since I had her detained, yet I’ve been consumed by thoughts of her. Unable to shake her off like a bad cold. I should have let her be taken away and be done with. Either she doesn’t know the extent of my ruthlessness, or she doesn’t care about her life. Her resolve is unyielding, and it's driving me mad. I throw myself into my pack duties, refusing to be drawn to her cell. I'm furious with the way fate has once again played its hand.

I hear a knock on my door. I know it must be my beta. I don’t want to let him in right away, I’m too agitated. But I stride across the room and throw the door open, seeing Callum’s look of concern.

“Alpha,” he says, in manner of greeting.

I raise a brow, asking him to state his business.

“Have you decided what to do with the girl?” he asks.

I clench my fists, not wanting to admit it to him.

“No,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Do you… want me to handle her?”

“No!” I bark at him. “I can do that.”

The thought of the idea of any other man even entering the room where she is locked up in, feels me with a fury that I can’t understand. All I know is that she belongs to me and me alone. Even if I don’t want her. She’s my prisoner.

“I’m sure the matter of what to do with the female isn’t the only thing that brought you here,” I say, pinching the bridge of my nose with my fingers. “State your business.”

“I just wanted to let you know that the man who we took prisoner has finally divulged the name of the person who sent him.” He says.

“Do you want to us to send out some of our men on him in return?” Callum asks.

“That’s not how we work,” I say sharply. “If I want him dead, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Alright,” Callum says, holding up his hands. I don’t know why I’m biting his head off. He hasn’t done anything wrong.

“He doesn’t know we’ve got his assassin,” I say. “He might even think I’m dead. So, here’s what we do: I’ll lay low. Let him think he’s been successful. You get our weapons back. Then we hit back. We crush this little bastard once and for all.”

Callum nods. He turns as if he’s about to leave but hesitates a moment in the doorway.

“And you’re sure you don’t want me to take care of the girl?” he asks again.

“I said I’ll deal with her,” I snap at him.

He nods, and is about to leave, when a guard rushes in, panting and almost out of breath. He bows low as he reaches me. "Alpha, I have bad news," he begins without preamble. "The girl has escaped from her cell."