CHAPTER 4: Price Of Blood
1121 Words
Thorne
The three princesses stood in a neat, trembling row before me. I looked at their perfect blonde hair and their bright dresses. They were undeniably beautiful in a very useless, fragile way.
But they smelled heavily of sweet perfumes and intense fear. If I took one of them, the feral beast inside my chest would likely lose patience and kill her before we ever reached the northern borders.
They were far too weak for my world. I did not want them. My attention was locked on the dark wooden slats near the high ceiling. I could smell the sharp, clean scent of rainwater and burning firewood bleeding through the cracks. She was up there.
"Bring me the one hiding in the walls," I commanded.
The grand hall fell into a dead silence for exactly one second. Then, absolute chaos erupted.
The King shouted confused orders. Royal guards scrambled over each other, their armor clanking loudly as they rushed toward the hidden servant corridors.
Vane stood perfectly still beside me, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword, watching the panicked southern soldiers run around like frightened prey.
I kept my face blank, but inside, my chest was a war zone. My wolf was pacing violently. It was furious that other men were going to find her. It wanted me to tear the walls down with my own hands and pull her out of the dark.
A loud scuffle echoed from the side entrance of the hall. The door was shoved open and two armored guards dragged her into the bright light of the throne room. It was the girl from the courtyard.
She was fighting them. She did not have the strength to overpower two fully grown wolves, but she fought with a fierce defiance.
She shoved her pale hands hard against the heavy metal of the guard's chest plate, refusing to let them just drag her across the floor. Her silver grey hair was a messy tangle around her face, and her dress was covered in grey dust from the hidden passages.
The guards forced her to a halt at the bottom of the throne steps. She was breathing heavily, her chest rising and falling in sharp gasps.
She was terrified. I could smell the sharp spike of her panic. Yet, she did not look at the floor. She threw her shoulders back and looked straight at me, masking her deep terror with a blazing, angry stare.
My wolf slammed against my ribs. It recognized its mate instantly. A low growl built in the back of my throat, demanding to be let out. It saw another man holding her arm and it wanted to separate that man's hand from his body.
The King shot up from his throne, his face pale and slick with sweat.
"Alpha Thorne, please," her father stammered, rushing down the steps. "There is a terrible mistake. She is.. she is an illegitimate child. She is a bastard."
The word hit my ears like a blow.
"She has no wolf," the King continued frantically, waving a hand at her dusty clothes as if she were a piece of garbage he was trying to hide. "She has absolutely no Luna blood in her veins. She is weak and completely useless to a man like you. Take one of my true daughters. I will give you two of them if you wish."
The beast inside me snapped.
A violent, bloodthirsty rage flooded my veins, hot and blinding. My wolf wanted to take total control.
It wanted to shift right there on the polished marble floor and rip the King's throat out for daring to speak about our mate that way.
It wanted to paint the throne room red, slaughter every single guard in the building, and take her away from these weak, insulting fools.
I locked my jaw until my teeth felt like they were going to crack.
I had to balance the savage, protective instincts of my wolf with the cold calculation of the warlord they all feared. I could not slaughter a king in his own hall if I wanted to anchor his shield without starting a war. I had to remain the unfeeling monster they expected, not the crazed, possessive mate they would eventually try to use against me.
I took a slow step toward the King.
The temperature in the room plummeted instantly. I let my dark aura flare violently, directing the crushing weight entirely onto the King and the guards holding Earlene.
The two guards released her immediately, collapsing to the floor and gasping for air. The King hit his knees with a loud, painful crack.
His face turned an unhealthy shade of red as he clawed at his chest, struggling to force air into his lungs. The blonde princesses screamed and backed away, pressing themselves against the far walls.
Only Earlene remained standing. She staggered slightly as the guards let go of her, but she locked her knees and stayed upright, watching me with wide, cautious eyes.
I stopped exactly one foot away from the King. I looked down at his pathetic, groveling form.
"I do not care about her blood," I said. My voice was a soft, lethal promise that echoed off the high ceiling. "I will be the judge of what she is worth. You will give her to me today, or I will turn around, ride back to the north, and let the feral beasts burn your entire kingdom to ash."
The King looked up at me. Tears of pure pain leaked from the corners of his eyes. He tried to speak, but the pressure on his chest was too great. He finally managed a weak, frantic nod.
He broke completely. He sold his daughter to save his own life.
I pulled my aura back just enough to let him breathe. The King slumped forward on the floor, coughing violently.
"Prepare the carriages," I ordered Vane, keeping my voice perfectly flat.
I turned my back on the royal family. I started walking toward the exit doors.
Every single step I took was a brutal, exhausting battle. My wolf was screaming inside my head, tearing at the walls of my mind, demanding that I stop walking away.
It wanted me to turn around. It wanted to snatch her up, hold her tightly against my chest and carry her out of this rotting palace myself.
I curled my hands into tight fists at my sides and dug my sharp claws deep into my own palms. The biting pain of my own blood welling in my gloves was the only thing stopping my wolf from forcing me to turn around and pull her into my arms right then and there.
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