Chapter One
Tonight, on the peak of our mountain territory, people from different regions and packs had gathered to witness and celebrate a mating. It was my arranged mating, orchestrated by my father, uniting the Harold Jenkins pack with the Carlson Jorgensen pack. Carlson, known for his cruelty, was the alpha I was being gifted to, like a prized pig. The plan was for me to walk out of this room, lie down, and let him mount me in front of our packs and guests. But there were a thousand other things I'd rather do. Swallowing razor blades and shitting them out seemed more appealing. And while I wished for Carlson and my father's demise, I was worried that I hadn't been allowed outside of this room for the past twenty-four hours. I couldn't ensure that everything was going according to plan. I glanced at Toralei's reflection in the mirror as I sat there, preparing for the mating. The dress Carlson had given me was flimsy, revealing enough to show what would belong to him tonight. The only comfort I had was the lace bralette he allowed me to wear, covering my breasts. My panties barely covered my rear, but at least my sex was shielded. The mating ritual was an ancient tradition, ensuring that witnesses from different packs acknowledged the union. I had pleaded with my father to prevent this public spectacle, but he turned a deaf ear. I knew he wouldn't stop it, but I had to try. "It's time," one of Carlson's betas, who had been assigned to take care of me, informed. I stood up from the stool and stole one last look at myself in the mirror. Smoky eyeshadow and dark eyeliner adorned my soft blue eyes, failing to make them sparkle. My lips were painted in a deep red lipstick that I would never have chosen, and I fought the urge to wipe it off. It was more makeup than I preferred, but Carlson's harem seemed to take pleasure in my distress. Tonight was not a celebration. It was a tragedy. I already had a mate, someone I had pushed away and rejected to protect him from my father and my demons. Saint Kingsley had shocked me with his presence and turned out to be the last person I expected the wolf god, Fenrir, to choose as my soul mate. The summer we spent together had been the first time I truly felt alive. Saint was rough around the edges and older than me. His misfit group had driven me crazy with their attempts to fit in and become part of the pack, which my father noticed. Saint was an orphan, and I was considered untouchable because of my father's position as alpha. He was the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks, yet I wanted him with every fiber of my being. He brought me to life and made me crave things I never thought possible. It was perfect until my father discovered us and threatened Saint's life. The ultimatum? Make Saint believe I hated him and force him to leave the pack or watch him die by my father's hand. There was no world where that boy didn't exist for me. So, to save his life, I betrayed him in the worst way possible. I stood in front of the entire pack and accused him of manipulating me into believing our connection was a true mating call, when it was merely teenage lust. I rejected him, the one thing you should never do to your soul mate. True soul mates were rare, and if you were lucky enough to find one, it only happened once in a lifetime. And I had just banished mine from our pack. A scream echoed from beyond the door, snapping me back to reality. Everyone froze, staring at the door as if it would burst open. I slipped on my slippers and silently padded across the floor, a sinister smile playing on my lips as the thought of my coup starting earlier than planned crossed my mind. As soon as I opened the door, the power went out, and whispers filled the room. Tora positioned herself behind me, her hand resting on my shoulder. We both felt relieved and hopeful, assuming our allies within the pack had initiated the coup. But my sight adjusted to the darkness, revealing that we were wrong. It wasn't our pack starting the coup; it was someone else attacking. My gaze landed on Lars, kneeling beside him as blood trickled from his lips. "Run, Gwendolyn," he gasped. "It isn't us. Someone else is attacking. Run!" I glanced towards the darkened room ahead. My heart clenched as I realized that my father and Carlson were not the targets. Hunters fought against my pack and Carlson's pack, armed with guns and silver blades. Women cried over dead bodies or tried to escape. The scent of blood filled the air, and my concern grew. I paused when I saw the largest male among the hunters, covered in blood and tattoos, skillfully wielding dual blades. He fought with pants but nothing else covering his body. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as he effortlessly took down anyone who crossed his path. Then, he turned and our eyes locked. Time stood still as his greenish-blue eyes held mine captive. A rush of emotions flooded my chest, and I whimpered, tears escaping my eyes. It was the last pair of eyes I expected to see again. His scent reached me, replacing the copper of blood with soothing sage and bergamot. "Saint," I whispered breathlessly. But the look in his eyes was murderous as he started moving towards me. Men closed in around him, and reality crashed back into me. I remembered the last words he shouted at me ten years ago. "I will come back here, Gwendolyn Jenkins. I will return, destroying you and everything you love," he had whispered, silent tears pooling in his eyes. Saint didn't show weakness during my rejection. Only pure hatred burned in his gaze, and the once soothing scent had turned bitter. "Fuck! Run!" I shrieked, recognizing more faces from my past. Saint hadn't returned alone. He had brought his pack of misfits with him, and their presence overwhelmed the yard. Tora still held onto my arm as we rushed back inside, barricading the door. My heart pounded, and it was hard to breathe after seeing my true soul mate again. "They're back!" Tora exclaimed. "They brought hunters and monsters with them!" I seethed. In the brief glimpse I had of the battlefield, I saw not only hunters but also demons and a variety of wolves forming an unfamiliar pack. Saint hadn't returned to be accepted; he had come to fulfill his promise when he and his misfits were banished. He had returned to destroy us all. The door cracked, and fear gripped me as an ax cut through the wood. "Hide," I demanded, but Tora shook her head. "Tora, get the children out of here. Saint will follow me, and his men will follow him because he's their leader. You must get the children out. Find Chaos and get him out of here, now!" "Not without you, Brae," she protested, but the ax struck the door again, making us both jump. "Get my child out of here," I ordered, rushing towards a dark hallway that led to a dead-end. My eyes met Toralei's, and I watched as she hurried off to the playroom where the pack omegas were looking after the children. I exhaled, fear coursing through me as the ax continued to tear into the door. I moved deeper into the mansion, once considered home by Saint and his misfits. In the hallway, I paused as their voices echoed from the main room. I peered at the doorway that led to the outcrop building and rushed towards it. I didn't believe I would escape Saint and his men, not when I knew how skilled they were at tracking. I was merely buying Tora time to run with the children, hoping they wouldn't become collateral damage. "Come on, Brat. Don't make this hard," Saint's deep voice filled my ears, sending unease through my body. "She always enjoyed when you chased her," Jeffrey added, causing my senses to heighten. Laughter surrounded me as I hid behind a large shelf in the library. My heart raced, and my fear permeated the room. They had hunted me before, terrifying and exhilarating me. It ended with Saint finding me and our bond igniting in this very room. The library was where I spent most of my time. "Mmm, she always smelled like trouble. A little fear, a little woman, and a whole lot of promise for the sexy little bitch she'd become. Come on, Princess. We want to play with you," Timothy chuckled, his laughter wicked and dark. Another voice joined the conversation. "Her lips are to die for, but they're as poisonous as the bitch who owns them," Phenrys grunted. "I always wondered if they'd feel as good around my cock, but little Miss Prim wouldn't ever give up the goods. Would you, Brae?" I almost snorted, listening as they moved through the library. They always acted as one unit. They had once hunted me, and now they were hunting me again. "Come on, woman. Don't keep us waiting. Let us see you. You know you want to play with us. This brings back memories, doesn't it? Us hunting you down and you finding out your mate was one of us, only to betray him in the cruelest way? I didn't think you were a sentimental bitch, Princess." Zayne's tone held amusement, sending shivers down my spine. I heard them discover my discarded robe and laugh. I lifted my eyes to the window that led to the courtyard, where the pack had gathered. My body trembled as I dashed forward, their cries of discovery echoing behind me. I reached the window and launched myself into the air, but something solid collided with me. I bounced off and landed on the floor with a bone-jarring thud. As I sat there, Saint looked down at me. His pack formed a V shape behind him, their presence foreboding. They had grown up, surpassing all my expectations. Saint, the largest and roughest, stood out. Phenrys, his beta, was smaller but just as intimidating. Jeffrey exuded sex appeal with his tattoos peeking from beneath his shirt. Cassian, also known as Timothy, was covered in blood, his V-line leading to sinful promises. Zayne, the nerd of the pack, wore red suspenders and a bowtie, covered in blood. And Beau, the brute, known for making women scream, even before he became an adult. "Miss me, Brat?" Saint asked, his companions chuckling. He examined my scantily clad body with hunger and a glint of something sinister in his eyes. It terrified me, yet my body heated at his touch, burning for what we had failed to do the last time we were together. Saint's eyes turned crimson as his wolf peered into mine. Our bond couldn't be ignored, but he intended to fix that. His scent tantalized me, causing a soft moan to escape my throat. He walked me backward until my back hit the wall, his hand sliding up to wrap around my throat. It wasn't tight enough to cut off my air, but it conveyed his dominance. "Fight all you want, Brae. I hope you do fight me. This thing between us is happening. After I've claimed you, you can do whatever you want, as long as I approve. You're about to experience what it feels like to be nothing more than a breeder. Wasn't that your worst fear? Becoming a pretty womb for some alpha to breed his pups?" I didn't answer. I studied the changes in his face, his primal aura as an alpha. He had surpassed all my expectations. His sea-green eyes held mine, and the midnight hair that dusted his forehead and shoulders shimmered under the moon's light. "You grew up, Brat. You grew up good," Saint mused, his voice thick. My body had blossomed in his absence, and he took in the changes. But he also noticed the strength in my face, no longer the teenage girl he fell in love with. "Why did you come back here? You were free. All of you were free from this place. You could have gone anywhere and done anything. Why come back?" I asked, my voice filled with confusion and pain. "I promised to destroy you. Don't you remember? I've always kept my promises, unlike you, Princess. I should have known you were just like your father. Well, I won't make that mistake again, will I, boys?" Their laughter filled the library. "Get up," Saint commanded, and I struggled to my feet. He dodged my kick and grabbed my arm, pulling me against him. The nearness ignited a primal desire in me, my wolf yearning for his. But he held me with a firm grip on my throat, exerting his dominance. "I asked you a fucking question, Gwendolyn." "Why did you come back here? You were free. All of you were free from this place. You could have gone anywhere and done anything. Why come back?" I repeated, my voice trembling. "I promised to destroy you. Don't you remember? I've always kept my promises, unlike you, Princess. I should have known you were just like your father. Well, I won't make that mistake again, will I, boys?" Their laughter filled the library. "Get up," Saint commanded, and I struggled to my feet. He dodged my kick and grabbed my arm, pulling me against him. The nearness ignited a primal desire in me, my wolf yearning for his. But he held me with a firm grip on my throat, exerting his dominance. "Fight it all you like, Brae. In fact, I hope you fucking do fight me. This thing between us—it's happening. After I've claimed you, you can do whatever the fuck you want as long as I approve of it. You're about to know how the bitches beneath you feel when they're nothing but a fucking breeder. That was your worst fear, wasn't it? Being nothing more than a pretty womb that some alpha used to breed his pups?" I didn't answer him. Instead, I studied the changes in his face. He'd grown into a primal male that exuded alpha pheromones. He'd surpassed all my expectations. Sea-green eyes that changed with his mood held mine, and the midnight hair that dusted his forehead and shoulders held a blue tint beneath the moon's illuminating light. His eyes drifted over the changes in my face, no longer the teenage girl he'd fallen in love. My body had blossomed in his absence, and my breasts had gone from an average B-cup to a D. My hips had filled out, accentuated by a slight bubble butt that gave it a healthy bounce. I'd also shot up, reaching six feet in height, which still made me seem fragile and delicate to his nearly seven-foot frame. "You grew up, Brat. You grew up good, didn't you?" Saint mused with a thickness in his tone that caused my nipples to harden from an eagerness to feel his heated breath against them. His thumb moved, rubbing over my full lips before he snorted. "Red isn't your color. What's the matter? Can't speak without your daddy present to hear your words?" "I don't need my father to tell me how fucked I am right now, Saint. I can do the math on that one myself." He lowered his mouth to my ear and nipped my earlobe. He tugged it with his teeth, releasing it as a growl escaped his chest with a deep vibration that slithered over my body. "You have no idea how fucked you really are, but you will figure it out soon enough. Now be a good girl and show me to your bedroom. I can't have you watching me slaughter your daddy while you're still wearing your fucking mating gown; now can we, boys?" Saint smiled cruelly as they laughed. "Move, or I'll remind you why pissing me off isn't a good idea."
Chapter Two
: The Unraveling Saint and his entourage led me through the bustling hallways, filled with unfamiliar faces. They shielded me from prying eyes, but also prevented me from catching a glimpse of anyone else. The mingling scents of human hunters, demons, and wolves permeated the lodge, setting off alarm bells in my mind. These three creatures were never known to coexist peacefully. Their fragile alliances always ended in bloodshed. As we reached the door to my room, Jeffrey, with his striking green eyes, reached past me to open it. However, his groan of disappointment revealed that the room was occupied by women. His gaze met mine, and a deep growl resonated from his chest, instigating chaos among the betas and omegas in the room. My body pulsed with a mixture of fear and anticipation as Saint chuckled, pulling me closer to him with his arm wrapped around my waist. The women quickly slithered out of the room, some crawling on their knees in fear. I resisted the urge to kick Jeffrey for causing their panic, knowing that any aggression towards them would come at a price. Meanwhile, Saint's thumb grazed my nipple deliberately, a silent reminder of the desire emanating from my body. Once the room was cleared and thoroughly checked for weapons, Saint shoved me inside without warning. I stumbled but managed to catch myself before face-planting onto the floor. Turning around, I watched as he entered the room behind me, closing the door. He scanned the sparsely furnished room, picking up a chair and placing it at the end of my bed, where he sat down to observe me. "Strip," he growled, reclining back in the chair with a relaxed posture, his hands resting on the armrests. I snorted defiantly, crossing my arms over my chest to conceal the trembling in my hands provoked by his raspy tone. A sardonic smile curved Saint's lips as his eyes sparkled mischievously, taking in every inch of my slender figure. "No," I retorted, my voice laced with defiance. Saint stood up abruptly and advanced towards me without warning. Instinctively, I backpedaled, a soft cry escaping my lips as my back collided with the dresser. Saint's hands landed on either side of me, trapping me against the wooden surface. His amusement sent a shiver down my spine. His lips hovered close to mine, teasing but not quite touching. I could feel my body tremble in response to his proximity, the scent of my own arousal filling the air. "This wasn't a request, Brat. I wasn't asking you to take it off. I was telling you to remove the gown you intended to fuck Carlson in, now," he murmured softly, his words confusing me. He stepped back, his eyes fixed on my face, as his hands trailed over my shoulders, moving to the front of the gown. With a swift motion, he tore it wide open, causing my chest to rise and fall rapidly. Saint held my gaze, never dropping his eyes to my exposed breasts. The gown fell to the floor, leaving me standing there vulnerable and bare. Then, something cold pressed against my stomach, and my entire body shuddered. I remained fixated on his face, fully aware that this might be the last thing I saw before he ended my life. Trembling, I gasped as the cold blade glided over my heated skin. A sinful smile played upon his lips as he lowered his attention to my bralette, sliding the knife blade beneath it, cutting through the lace and revealing my left breast. He repeated the action with the other breast, leisurely moving the blade higher to sever the straps and the fabric that hugged my ribs. "Did you fuck him?" he asked softly, running the dull edge of the blade against my erect nipple. "No," I replied honestly. "Did you want to?" Saint's gaze remained fixed on my chest as I shook my head in response. "Use your words, Princess. I'm playing with your nipple, and I'd hate to slip." "No, I didn't," I whimpered, gasping as the blade cut into my breast. Saint's heated mouth trailed over the small cut he had made, his saliva healing the wound but leaving a lingering sting. He stepped back, studying me intently. Snorting at my response, he turned his eyes towards something behind me. Reaching over, he lit the candles on the dresser, casting a soft glow in the room. Then, he turned me around to face the dresser, his hands guiding mine to rest on its surface before he pushed my thighs apart with his foot. "Are you afraid of me or excited? Your body responds to mine, yet fear emanates from you, Princess," Saint chuckled, his voice thick with desire. "Both," I admitted, hating that he could detect the state of my body. His warm lips brushed against my shoulder, sending a tremor through me. My stomach clenched with need, while fear tugged at my mind. Saint laughed against my skin, the heat of his breath pooling between my thighs. Stepping back, he took in the sight of my arched ass, a result of my twisted emotions. How could I not be conflicted with a mate like this asshole? My nipples hardened, begging for his touch, as my scent filled the room, battling against his dominance. Even though I resisted, my wolf refused to ignore her true soulmate. The dull side of his blade traced a path from the base of my neck, slowly moving down to the curve of my ass. I dropped my head forward, fighting the moan that threatened to escape. Saint used the blade to cut through the soft material that was my only defense against him. His intense gaze burned into my skin, and even without seeing his eyes, I knew he was taking in every curve and contour of my body as it surrendered to his dominance. A deep, rumbling growl reverberated from his chest, shaking me to my core. It sent a wave of awareness coursing through my body, urging me to surrender to him completely. It wasn't just desire that consumed me; it was a primal ache embedded within my soul. "Holy shit," I murmured, resenting the fact that my body yearned to submit to Saint, to be taken by him with an intensity that surpassed anything I had ever experienced. This mating business was for the birds, not wolves. Saint's hand slipped around my waist, lifting me until his palm pressed against my throat. His other hand slowly descended towards my drenched core, which clenched and begged for his touch. The savage wolf within me didn't understand or care about the pain he intended to inflict. Saint pulled my body back against his, relishing in the moan that escaped my lips. "Tell me you're not mine," he urged, his fingers sliding through the wetness he had caused. "You're so fucking ready for me right now. You'd let me fuck you, wouldn't you? Your wolf wouldn't allow you to resist me. Tell me I'm wrong, Brae. How does she respond to me so easily if you're not mine?" "She has a split personality disorder on her best days," I whispered huskily, grinding against his fingers. "She knows that she's mine by right." He pushed a finger into my tight opening, causing it to clench around him. Every nerve in my body went haywire. My stomach coiled with a deep ache as he slowly withdrew his finger, sucking it clean and leaving me gasping against his heated body. "You're not marked," he pointed out, finally releasing my throat and stepping back. The heat that had enveloped me vanished, leaving me cold. "How is it that you planned to mate with that prick tonight, yet his mark doesn't adorn your flawless skin?" he demanded, his voice now coming from across the room. I turned to face him, my eyes fixated on the man I had once loved more than life itself. Slowly, I spun around, leaning against the dresser, knowing that if I obeyed his command, I would leave this room no longer a virgin. "Come here," he rumbled, his voice laced with a mixture of lust and anger, causing my nipples to harden in anticipation. "Don't make me come get you. You won't like what happens." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I walked towards him, keeping a safe distance. But he sat forward abruptly, grabbing my hips to pull me closer. I stumbled, catching myself by gripping his shoulders as he leaned back, forcing me to straddle his body or awkwardly lie on top of him. Saint's tongue darted out, teasing my nipple, and I gasped at the sensation. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me down against his hardened arousal. "Did you miss me? I missed you. I missed the taste of your lips and the sparkle in your eyes when you entertained inappropriate thoughts," he confessed. "I missed the way your cheeks flushed with heat, just like they are right now. But most of all, I thought about ways to punish you for what you did to me, to us. Tell me I'm not your mate. Tell me you don't feel this connection as deeply as I do right now." I shook my head, gazing down at him while he watched intently. His eyes traveled slowly down my body, taking in every curve and contour. Suddenly, Saint sat up abruptly, his forehead pressing against mine. He slowly moved back, his gaze fixed between my thighs where my arousal coated my needy sex. "You are exactly what your father told me you were, Gwendolyn. A needy, willing whore who would fuck anyone, even your enemies, if they came to plunder and pillage your cunt," Saint sneered derisively. "Cover yourself and act like you're not some easy pussy that fucks anyone willing to touch it." His words pierced my heart, tears welling in my eyes. My body shook with a mix of anger and confusion. Clutching the sheet around me, I walked to the dresser, grabbing panties, a tank top, and shorts that clung to my curves. His words stung because I had never willingly slept with anyone. "I suggest you don't resist when we leave this room. If you do, I'll make sure you're tied to a bed and left there until I'm finished with you. I'm going to kill your father, and if you beg enough, I might spare your intended. After all, he was lured here by the promise of your pussy, wasn't he?" "Kill him," I uttered through gritted teeth, dropping the sheet and stepping into the black panties and shorts. Pulling the top over my head, I turned to face the man who was once the love of my life. I needed a reminder that he wasn't the same person I had fallen for all those years ago. It had been a decade, and while he may have the same scent and appear similar, he was different. Saint was a stranger now, covered in tattoos, with a darkness and malevolence lurking within him. We had both grown and changed during our time apart. I couldn't expect him to be the same boy. He wasn't here to rekindle our love. He had returned for one purpose only - to destroy me and everything I held dear.
Chapter Three
: Reckoning The once cluttered courtyard had been cleared, the debris and bodies removed. A crowd had gathered, their eyes fixed on the commotion in the center of the square. Saint and his men guided me through the onlookers, their voices hushing as we approached. I didn't need to see what everyone was staring at; the metallic scent of blood filled the air, and the source of it was all too familiar. Saint's men stepped aside, revealing my father on his knees, seated on the ground. I glanced at him, and my heart pounded against my chest as his cruel eyes met mine. Madness glimmered within them, his hatred for me shining through, condemning me. "You have been judged and found guilty, Harold Jenkins," Saint's voice boomed, causing me to startle. His green-blue eyes locked with mine, a cocky grin spreading across his lips. "You don't have the right to judge me, boy!" my father snarled, spitting blood from his battered lips. "Gwendolyn will never take you back. And even if she did, she's nothing but a broken little beta now, with nothing to offer a true alpha." "Yeah? How about I fuck your pretty little bitch right in front of you?" Saint retorted. My father laughed, his eyes still fixed on mine. "Did you tell her what I did to you, boy?" he snarled, spitting out the word "boy" like a curse. "No, you didn't tell Gwendolyn what her rejection did to you because then she'd know the truth." "She'll know soon enough. I plan on showing her exactly what you allowed to happen to us. I'm going to ruin your precious daughter, Harold. I'll breed her like a bitch, listen to her scream in agony. You promised me I'd never be good enough for her, but now I have her. We don't need you alive for that, do we, boys?" Saint asked, his fist connecting with my father's face, sending him sprawling to the side. "No, we don't need his evil presence to take everything from him. Right, Beau?" Timothy chimed in, snorting as he grabbed me, holding me tightly. My heart raced as he inhaled my scent, his grip on my breasts tightening. "I think we'll all enjoy fucking your perfect little princess on your grave, Harold," he chuckled. "What about you, Beau? Do you want to fuck Gwendolyn's tight body on her father's grave?" Timothy shoved me towards Beau, while Saint observed, noticing the fear in my trembling body instead of the usual lust. "Fuck, yes. I want to hear her scream as I ravage her. I bet she likes it rough, don't you, Princess?" Beau growled against my ear, his hand wrapped around my throat, cutting off my air supply. "Zayne, how about you fuck her ass while I take her pussy?" he suggested, and before I could resist, Zayne was pressed against me. "My pleasure. You take her ass, and I'll start here," Zayne purred, tilting my chin up to meet his lips. "What do you say, pretty pussy cat? Do you want to feel me stretch you out completely?" "She's got lips, gentlemen, and I want them wrapped around my cock," Phenrys interjected, positioning himself in front of Zayne, then thrusting his thumb into my mouth. I struggled to breathe, opening my mouth to suck in air. Phenrys smirked, watching me as someone's hand roughly stroked my sex. "What do you say, Princess? Do you want to play with us? We intend to play with you. We'll let your daddy watch, since you always did everything he asked of you. I bet you make sweet sounds when you're filled with cock and choking on one," Timothy taunted, watching as I fought against the hold of the others. A wet splatter landed on my face, and I blinked, tasting the metallic tang of blood. Jeffrey, his dark onyx eyes smirking at me, forcibly turned my head to witness the horror unfolding. "I think we should all take turns pleasuring her. Once her pussy is swollen, we can fuck her raw until all she knows is pain. I've always wanted to fuck you, and you knew that even before you belonged to your mate, didn't you? You used to hide from me, run away if I got too close," Jeffrey's grip tightened, causing me to scream, before stepping aside to reveal the gruesome scene. Saint pounded my father's face into the ground, then lifted him to his feet. My father's face was a bloody mess, but that wasn't enough. Saint thrust his hand through my father's back, gripping his beating heart in his palm. The crowd, who had cheered as Saint pummeled my father, fell silent. With one hand, Saint pulled my father's heart back through his chest, while using a blade in the other to sever his head from his body, drenching his men and me in blood. "Your daddy told us all about you, Gwendolyn. He even gave me pictures of his mate being fucked. I think we should tie you up and use you until you become what you wanted to be for your father. His precious little whore, passed around to his friends, using your body to lure his enemies into destruction. How many lives did you ruin for him? Hundreds? Thousands?" Saint leaned closer, staring down at me as his men held me captive. His words echoed in my mind, but I couldn't comprehend them. Saint's crew parted, allowing him to approach me. He lifted his bloodied hand, gripping my jaw tightly before pressing my father's heart against my lips. "Go ahead, bitch. Eat it," he hissed, watching me with crimson eyes. I opened my mouth, my canines descending as I took a bite of the tough muscle. Blood dripped from my lips, sliding down my throat as Saint observed. I tore off another piece, holding back tears as I chewed the gritty meat. Saint took the organ to his own lips, tearing off a sizable chunk before passing it around to his men. My body buzzed uncomfortably, overwhelmed by the presence of so many males, but my gaze never wavered from Saint's crimson alpha stare as I swallowed the meat. His lips curved into a sinister smile before he leaned closer. "How does daddy taste?" he whispered. "Salty," I replied softly, causing the men to laugh. Saint's eyes returned to their normal color as he leaned even closer, brushing his bloodied lips against mine. He threaded his fingers through my hair, yanking my head back, and slammed his lips onto mine while Beau kept me in place. His kiss was forceful, fueled by rage and desire that death had awakened within our kind. He devoured me as if I were the next item on the menu. "The interesting thing about your rejection, Princess, is that Saint doesn't desire you as much as you crave him. That means he won't be disappointed when he finds out you enjoy my cock more than his," Jeffrey laughed, his dark eyes gleaming with a madness that terrified me. Amongst Saint's friends, Jeffrey was the most twisted and deranged. He had even worn a suit to this battle, casually rolling up his sleeves as if he were worried about getting them dirty. "Fucking whore," Carlson spat, disrespectfully spitting on the ground. "Just not enough of a whore to trip and fall onto your pathetic dick, huh?" I taunted, watching the anger surge through him. "I should destroy your fucking pussy, bitch." "Let's be honest here, Carlson. The only pussy you've ever destroyed was your mother's when you came out of it. From what I've heard from your betas, you're lacking in that department," I laughed, relishing in the snickers and chuckles from the men who held me. Carlson lunged at me, but Saint's fist intercepted his face, sending him stumbling backward. Carlson redirected his aggression towards the larger threat, and the pack erupted into howls and cheers as they witnessed two evenly matched alphas facing off. They were nothing but savages. Even I couldn't help but enjoy the spectacle of Saint pummeling the other alpha. Carlson threw punch after punch, but Saint gracefully dodged each one, his body a symphony of sinewy muscles glistening in the torchlight. His physique was perfectly sculpted, and the tattoos adorning his skin accentuated every contour. The crowd was electrified by Saint's anger, feeding off his skilled movements. Watching Saint fight was mesmerizing. He effortlessly evaded every attack, landing his own powerful blows. His body moved with grace and precision, like a well-rehearsed dance. Desire coursed through me, undeniable and raw. His scent filled the air, coaxing my wolf to the surface. My nipples hardened, and when Beau noticed, he strummed his thumb against the fabric covering them, grunting in my ear. "He fucks like he fights, Princess. Hard, fast, and without mercy for those who betray him or dare to touch what is rightfully his. Saint will relish in your screams," Beau growled. Jeffrey turned towards me, a wicked smile playing on his lips, his dark eyes dancing with madness. Saint's victorious howl brought our attention back to him. Standing in the center of the courtyard, he held Carlson's severed head, declaring himself the new alpha of the pack. It was a mighty howl that forced the entire pack to their knees. I tried to obey, but the arms restraining me prevented my body from yielding. To submit. Saint's gaze met mine before he tossed Carlson's head in my direction. Rolling his neck, he used his power to slam me against the ground, the impact jarring my body. He pressed his weight onto me, claiming me with his teeth sinking into my shoulder. Pleasure and pain battled within me, my sight clouded by the red haze of lust created by his mouth against my skin. Saint ground his hardness against my core, his tongue lapping at the mating mark he had left, marking me as off-limits to anyone but him—except for the men who stared at us with molten desire. He slammed his fist into the ground beside my head, studying me intently as I gasped for air, consumed by the need he had ignited. "Now, you're mine, Brat. Jeffrey, have the women prepare the mating bed. Beau, get the alcohol flowing. The rest of you, rid us of Carlson's supporters, and give the women a choice to join us or die with their alpha. Phenrys, make sure everything is ready for me to mate my little bitch as soon as the moon rises tonight. I won't risk her escaping again." Saint pulled me up, forcing me to walk towards the lodge. "Move, you need to bathe before the mating ceremony, Brat." I moved forward, my gaze shifting to where Toralei stood amidst the pack. Panic surged within me; if she was here, it meant the children were too. My stomach churned, and Saint gripped my arm, dragging me past her as I dug my heels into the ground, staring at Toralei. "Walk, or I'll carry you, Gwendolyn. You still need to learn the terms of your surrender. Unless, of course, you'd prefer all of us to come to your bedroom and entertain ourselves?" he threatened. I swallowed the lump in my throat, walking alongside Saint out of the courtyard. The pack's frenzied howls echoed behind us as they descended upon the bodies of the fallen alphas, consuming them as a sign of disrespect. It was one reason I had managed to hold myself together. Saint's men had taunted me about fucking me on my father's grave, but dishonorable alphas were not buried; they were consumed and excreted as a statement of the pack's true feelings towards them. The broken doors of the lodge came into view. Saint's followers were already repairing them, patching up the axe holes that he had made to gain entry. Inside, Saint refused to release my wrist as he dragged me along. My pride stung, but I wasn't upset by his return. The timing may have been terrible, but what would he have done if he had arrived after the coup? Unfortunately, I would never know.
Chapter Four
In my bedroom, Saint shut the door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. My body trembled, torn between the primal desires of lust and bloodlust that were difficult to control when both were present. We were descendants of savage Vikings, after all. "Strip," Saint commanded, causing me to whip my head in his direction. "You want me to sit at your feet too? You better have some treats for me if you expect me to perform tricks." His eyes sparkled as he approached me, his body still pulsating, covered in the blood of my father and Carlson. I was drenched in it as well, my mouth caked with the blood from my father's heart. Saint didn't take the bait. Instead, he leaned against my dresser, studying me like a cornered prey. I stood awkwardly, unable to help but notice every contour of his chest on display. He had never been this bold before I banished him. He rarely went shirtless, but if this was a new habit, I could definitely get used to it. As I looked at Saint, I noticed the same darkness in his eyes that his men now possessed. It made me wonder where they had been and what they had done while I was stuck on this mountain, picking up the pieces left by my deadbeat father. He had never lifted a finger to help the pack, leaving me to handle everything with the help of loyal members. I pretended to be a dutiful daughter, but in reality, I had been running the pack since before I even reached puberty. My whole life had fallen apart when my father murdered my mother for giving birth to only female offspring. On her second pregnancy, the midwife revealed that she was carrying another girl. My father caught her off guard and killed her right in front of me. The problem for him was that I held the pack through my ancient bloodline, tracing back to the first wolves created by our god, Fenrir. If it weren't for Fenrir's blood running through my veins, I had no doubt that my father would have killed me right there alongside my mother. I hadn't made a single sound when he took her life, smashing her head until it was unrecognizable. She had taught me to hide my fear, to protect and control my reactions. After all, fear was just an emotion, a useless one that enemies would exploit the moment they sensed it. "I don't think you understand the situation here, Gwendolyn. Your status means nothing unless I decide otherwise. If I want you to sit at my feet, you will. I just killed your father and spared your life. You were supposed to die with him, but I chose to keep you alive. Now it's your turn to suffer, just as we did. You let your father hurt us for his own amusement, and now it's your turn." "Excuse me?" I asked, stepping back as he moved closer. Saint prowled toward me, and I darted away, not wanting to be trapped. But his hand shot out, slamming me against the wall before his body pressed against mine. The impact caused my teeth to clash together, biting my tongue. Blood filled my mouth as he smirked, staring at me with darkening eyes. I tried to push him away, to free my mind from the fog of desire, but it didn't end well. His strong hand grabbed my wrists, effortlessly restraining them before pinning them against the wall above my head. Those eyes that I had once longed to drown in turned cold, and before I could understand his intentions, he let go of my hands and ripped open my shirt. A startled scream erupted from my throat, reverberating through the room as he tore apart my shorts. My body shuddered, and I instinctively reached forward, dragging my nails down his muscular chest in anger. Rage-filled eyes stared down at me, burning with an intense fury. One moment, I was doing something incredibly stupid by provoking Saint, and the next, he flung my body to the floor. The air was violently forced out of my lungs as I crawled on my elbows, trying to reach the drawer that held my gun. But before I could even make progress, his hands grabbed my ankles, flipping me over as he loomed above me, a cruel smile on his face. Blood dripped from his chest, marring its perfection in the wake of my nails. Anger emanated from Saint, filling the room with his presence. My body trembled, and as soon as he released my ankles to get closer, I kicked out, taking his legs out from under him. Instead of falling to the floor, Saint launched himself onto me, grabbing my arms painfully and pinning them above my head. I thrashed wildly beneath him, screaming in frustration. Blood coated my breasts and lips, dripping down my chin. "Fuck you!" I snarled, fighting against Saint as he glared at me with a sinister expression. "I'm about to fuck you, Brat," he chuckled, grinding his massive erection against my exposed core. My body reacted, much to my dismay. My core clenched, and my wolf howled with desire inside me. Desire blazed in Saint's eyes, and he inhaled deeply, taking in my scent of arousal. What a savage asshole. I twisted my arms and hips, desperately trying to free myself from his weight, but it proved futile. He weighed a ton, if not more. He remained motionless, simply watching me realize my helplessness. I attempted to twist my wrists out of his grasp, but he slammed them back against the hard floorboards. I whimpered, bucking against him in a futile attempt to break free. His mouth descended, biting softly into my lip, causing a scream to bubble up from my throat as he held it between his teeth threateningly. His other hand slipped between our bodies, pressing against the bundle of nerves between my thighs. I moaned, arching into his touch. My hardened nipples throbbed at the contact, and he released my lip, smirking down at me before pushing his fingers into my body, stretching me open. "Good girl," he whispered, rubbing his nose against my cheek as he released his scent, filling the air with his enticing aroma. The fight within me faded, replaced by pleasure. Saint continued to hold me down, slowly stoking the fire within me. His fingers moved expertly inside me, eliciting soft cries from my throat. The moment he released my hands, I launched another attack. Saint grabbed me, pushing me against the wall before slamming my hands behind my back, holding them at the base of my spine. A deep growl rumbled through the room as his scent intensified. Before I knew it, his cock pressed against my ass. I pressed my forehead against the wall, raising my ass to allow him better access. His low rumble only fueled my desire, and my entire body pulsed with need. I could feel the thick tip of his cock rubbing against my entrance, using my arousal to coat himself in preparation to fuck me. But just as the tip barely pushed into my body, the door burst open, and something collided with Saint, causing him to curse as I remained against the wall, spread out. Voices filled the room as different scents assaulted my senses. Something crashed to the floor, followed by more curses, but I paid no attention, lost in my own world of lust. "Damn, that's fucking hot," Beau's voice reached my ears, causing a lump to form in my throat. "Don't touch her, asshole," Saint growled in warning. "She wouldn't even know it wasn't you, Saint," Jeffrey's voice came from behind me, his hand slowly lowering to the small of my back. "Who do you have here?" he asked, and my mind fought to regain control, pushing past the lust-induced haze. What a savage. Saint had used his scent to push me to the edge, and it took everything in me and more to resist. I growled loudly, pushing away from the wall, only to drop to my knees at their feet. My eyes glowed crimson, revealing the truth that I wasn't a beta at all. Only three people knew that secret, and now these assholes were added to the list. "Well, that's unexpected, Princess. Didn't see that one coming," Jeffrey chuckled, crouching down to brush the hair away from my face. Saint held Chaos in his arms, pushing him against the bed where he had exposed himself to help me. Tears burned my eyes as Saint studied my face, taking note of my red eyes that leaned more towards purple due to the intensity of their usual blue color. "Leave him alone," I hissed through clenched teeth. "You made babies, Brae?" Jeffrey asked, turning to look into the sea-green eyes of the child in Saint's arms. "He did," I growled, pointing my finger at Saint. The room fell silent at my words, and Saint's gaze dropped to the son he had unknowingly left behind. Of course, he had no idea Chaos even existed. He had impregnated Cherry, his ex-girlfriend, before our bond was solidified. She said nothing, choosing to abandon Saint's son to the omegas. And right after that, she disappeared. "I didn't fuck you," Saint snorted, but his eyes never left the matching ones glaring up at him. "He's not mine," I ground out. "Now release me!" "Not alpha enough to dominate me, huh?" Saint snorted, releasing the scent that relaxed my muscles, allowing me to collapse on the floor. "Take the boy and get out. Don't let him out of your sight," he ordered Jeffrey. As they left the room, I pushed myself up to stand. Saint watched me, anger radiating between us. His jaw clenched, but he made no move towards me. Instead, he returned to the chair, tilting his head towards the bed. "Sit, now," he commanded. I complied, my legs feeling more like jelly than solid limbs. Saint's eyes bore into me, a smirk playing on his lips as I sat, pulling the sheet over my body to hide it from his prying gaze. "Explain to me how you're an alpha when I know you were a beta, Gwendolyn. And then tell me how the fuck I have a son that you kept hidden from me." "I didn't keep him hidden, Saint. You left, and I found him in the nursery. It's not my fault. You fucked Cherry and made Chaos." "You named him what we had intended to name our son?" he asked, his gaze scanning my bloodied face. "It seemed fitting since I never planned on having a child," I admitted. "I was born an alpha, but it was dormant until after you left." "You're going to take a bath and wash your body. Then we're going to walk out of this room together, with you by my side. I'm going to fuck you in the mating tent in the courtyard and complete the claim to seal our bond, Gwendolyn." "I don't think so, Saint. You see, I am protected from being forced into a mating." "That only works if you're a virgin, and we both know you're not. Your father made sure I knew what my sweet, docile mate was up to during my absence. He even showed me pictures to prove that you had not only betrayed me but had become the pack's whore. I never thought that was possible. It just goes to show how little I fucking knew about the bitch I was stuck with by the whims of the gods." I laughed, glaring at Saint as I rolled my eyes. My fists clenched the sheets, deflecting the look of disgust on his face. The problem with my protection was that it didn't apply to my mate, which meant it wouldn't protect me from Saint. There was no denying that the gods had created him for me, and me for him. It had kept me safe from being raped or used as a breeding machine by my father, who desired a son to carry on the pack. "I'm not mating with you, asshole. You came here to hurt me. So go ahead and do it, get it over with," I challenged. "Oh, it's not that simple. I came back to take your pack from you. I returned to claim my rightful place by your side, even if I have to muzzle you to do it. You have connections that I need and plan to use. Your punishment will be a life controlled by me, never knowing when I'll strike and hurt you the most, just like you did to me. I loved you, Gwendolyn. I let you see parts of me that no one else ever had. You were my heart, and you tore it out as if it meant nothing. "You will walk out of this room and pretend to be happy with this mating. Because if you don't, Gwendolyn, I'll unleash my men on the pack," he growled coldly, rising from the chair to kneel between my legs. "I'll unleash the ones waiting in the woods, the ones you were expecting to come save you. I'll burn this place to the ground, and when you've lost everything, I'll make sure you're left in the ashes of this worthless home you loved so much." I stared into his dark gaze, realizing he wasn't bluffing. Saint had returned with a cold, calculated demeanor that he hadn't possessed before. And his crew, they were the same. They had enjoyed the bloodshed, craving the kills as much as Saint did when he murdered my father and Carlson. Saint placed his hands on my thighs, a triumphant smile playing on his lips. "Smart girl. Now go bathe because I'm eager to fuck my mate. We have ten years to make up for."
Chapter Five
I sat in my room, inhaling some herbs to calm my anxiety. Jeffrey watched me from where he leaned against the wall, his dark gaze sliding over the dress I now wore. It wasn't sheer like a traditional mating gown, but then I hadn't even owned one until yesterday. My mind whirled with how Saint and his men had infiltrated the compound, slipping past the other packs without detection. Either someone here had helped them, or they'd turned some packs around the mountain against us. "Are you planning to hide out there until he returns for you?" Jeffrey asked, his voice coming from right behind me. I spun on my heel, stepping back against the railing of the balcony as he smiled coldly. He reached for my hand, pulling the herb stick away from me before holding it to his nose. "Does this stuff help?" "It calms my nerves and helps to hide who I was from my father." "A treacherous bitch?" he snorted, taking a drag from it then slowly exhaling. I turned my attention back to the pack, which had already started celebrating. In the middle of the vast, sprawling courtyard sat the mating tent. Unlike the last one that Saint had ripped apart during the fight, this one had black gauze that would offer a layer of privacy. Inside, candles were lit, and sage was burning. A shiver rushed down my arm the moment Jeffrey touched his hand against my skin. I jerked away, staring at him before realizing he was handing me back the smoke. Accepting it, I peered at it silently. "I don't have fucking rabies, and if I did, you'd have them as soon as he shares you with us." "You're so sure he will?" I asked cautiously. "A lot has changed since you had us banished," he snorted, watching as I lifted the smoke to my lips. "You should die for what you and your father did to us." I shivered, refusing to meet his stare. I could feel the hatred in the air. His eyes slid over my profile, and then he grabbed the smoke from my hand, inhaling deeply. Peeking at him, I watched the glowing end slowly move closer to his lips. He flicked it, withdrawing a tin from his pocket to produce another smoke. "Did daddy know his princess was smoking herbs?" he asked, lighting it before handing it to me. I took a drag, coughing violently when it turned out to be marijuana instead of the soothing herbs I was expecting. Jeffrey snorted, shaking his head. "Saint is going to hurt you. After he's bored with you, Brae, you will be ours to play with when we want. Do try to let loose a little. No one likes a stuck-up bitch that thinks she's better than everyone else. That will only make us play with you harder, and no one likes broken toys." Jeffrey's words made my heart clench, but I didn't think Saint would do that. He hated me, sure, but he'd always respected women. He loved his mother at one time. She'd raised him until she'd been unable to continue doing so, abandoning him here, vanishing into the night without telling him goodbye. She'd left Saint an orphan, and that had forced the pack to place him into the care of the omegas, where he'd met his crew. "You shouldn't have fucked Saint over. He let you in, and you broke him." "My father gave me two options—make him hate me or watch him die. My world didn't exist without Saint in it, Jeffrey. If my father had told me to rip my heart from my chest or watch Saint die, I wouldn't have hesitated. I'd have reached into my chest and pulled it out, still beating. You can think the worst of me and make me the villain, but glass houses hide the ugliest monsters. Careful throwing rocks because once you know the truth, you can't ever go back from knowing it." "And what would a pampered princess of the pack know about monsters?" Saint's voice caused me to jump. I didn't turn, choosing to grab the joint from Jeffrey, ignoring the asshole behind me. What would a spoiled princess know? I wouldn't know that answer. I hadn't felt love since my father killed my mother, not until I'd found out Saint was my mate. I'd worked endlessly to hide what my father had done to me, to hide what happened in the dark, to keep the pack fed. I'd been a child providing for a pack, assisted by many loyal followers who offered the details and suggestions for our daily living to my father as their ideas. I'd known nothing other than the struggle to provide food, shelter, and everything else a pack needed to live on a mountain range that was impassable for months during winter. This left us rushing through most months, preparing for the roads to close and for us to live off the land. In another month, the snow would hit us, and we'd be stuck on the mountain until the spring thaw came. It was a blessing and a curse. The hunters couldn't reach us, but we couldn't escape the cold. I felt both pairs of eyes on me as I exhaled slowly. Saint snorted, leaning on my other side to reach over, grabbing the joint from me. Peering over at him, I paused as he held it between his teeth, drawing the smoke into his mouth as it wafted around his face. "You ready to party, Brat? You seem to have started without me," Saint smirked, lifting his eyes over my head to stare at Jeffrey. "Don't blame me. Brae was out here smoking some weak-ass shit." "It wasn't weak. It just wasn't pot, asshole. It was herbs, which suppresses my anxiety and stops the alpha tendencies from being uncontrollable. It's formulated, and we distribute it ourselves. Three people knew I was an alpha until you assholes came back here." Both men went silent at my words, and then Saint grabbed my waist. He held me over the edge as he sat me down. Jeffrey watched with a sinister look in his eyes, excited at the idea of Saint tossing me over the edge. I gripped Saint's shoulders, but he quickly shrugged me off. His eyes were angry, and the tic was back hammering in his jaw. "What else have you and your daddy grown up here?" Saint demanded, his eyes condemning me. "I asked you a fucking question," he snapped, pushing me further over the edge to teeter precariously. "Nothing!" I cried, turning to look at the drop which would kill even an immortal. "Nothing, Saint! My father didn't know we grew it. My mother's people brought the herbs with them from Norway, planting them all over the mountain to increase the alpha's calmness. It simply suppressed his need to kill everything and the rage that drove it!" I tore my eyes from the ground, looking back at his angry face. "Why do they always look down? It only increases the fear they feel at dangling over such height," Jeffrey asked, pulling off the joint while he enjoyed the show. Saint jerked me over the railing and shoved me against the wall. His hand pushed against my throat before he turned to Jeffrey, grabbing the joint to inhale it deeply. Saint grinned and pressed his lips against mine, forcing the smoke into my lungs. He lifted his hand, holding it against my nose and mouth as my lungs burned. When he finally released me, a deep cough clapped out of my throat, and I tapped my hand against my chest. He turned, nodding his chin to Jeffrey. "Let's go. There's whiskey calling our name, and my sweet, willing mate needs to show the pack she's eager to be mounted like the whore she is." "You're going to feel like such an asshole," I muttered, watching as he turned to gaze at me over his shoulder. I smiled inwardly, slowly trailing after them. Outside, the pack was already drinking, being rowdy, but still cautious for some reason. I lifted my nose, catching the scent of hunters and dark, wicked desire that screamed of demons. Saint grabbed me by the waist, walking me toward a group that stood away from the pack. His crew was there as well, observing as the pack drank and stared back at the hunters. This was a catastrophe in the making. Hunters lived by strict codes, most of which included hunting down our kind. They didn't care if we remained away from humans because they thought they were the superior race. Humans didn't enjoy the fact that they weren't at the top of the food chain, because more often than not, they were tasty with some added herbs. Saint pulled me into his body the moment we were in front of his crew and the outsiders. They all looked at me, slowly taking in my features while I remained as still and stiff as a statue. No one spoke, making an awkward silence. I had to bite my tongue to keep from blabbing anything that would fill it since I didn't do well with strangers or pretty much people in general. "Have a drink, Gwendolyn," Beau announced, smiling as he pushed a bottle of tequila in front of me. "Yeah, Princess. Drink with us," Timothy chuckled, grabbing the bottle to pour shots. My eyes slid to the lone female in the group, taking in her warrior braids while she returned the stare. Her eyes were blue and vibrant with intelligence shining while her mouth twisted in amusement. Judging by the way she watched me, she had already decided I'd look better six feet underground. "It's a beautiful place you have here, Gwendolyn," a man in his thirties stated. "Had," the female inserted, watching me. "My mother's people settled here one hundred years ago," I replied, grabbing the bottle and tossing it back, ignoring the seriously hot demon that observed me silently. I polished off the fifth, setting it down before turning toward Beau, whose rounded eyes peered over my head. "Come on, Beau. Don't let a little pampered bitch out-drink you. Next bottle? I really don't want to remember tonight, ever." Blue eyes speckled with dark flecks locked with mine across the makeshift table. The male's hair shone in the fire's light, and the way he watched me felt as if he was accessing every dark sin I'd ever committed. This male didn't just look at you; he gazed into your soul, slowly picking it apart while you stood there, helpless to look away. His mouth curved into a soft smile, and his gaze released mine as if he hadn't just fucking dissected me like some wild animal. "This is Roman. Elowen is his daughter," Saint stated, nodding toward the woman and the older gentleman. "This is Brandon and Ezra. They're…" he paused, turning to look at me with a smile playing on his mouth. "Hunters and demons, and the one behind him is fae. Which type, I'm uncertain. There are fifty-three hunters, seventeen demons, three witches, and one fae within pack territory. Five hunters are looking at the wolves across from us, wondering which will shift and cause a problem, allowing them to be killed. The answer is simple; none will change because we're not shifters, unlike the wolf standing at their back. The demons are incubuses. The smell of sex rolling off them gives it away. One is something else, but he has no scent other than the darkness that envelopes him in secrets, but he wants it that way. There are over sixty shifters, each wanting to get their itches scratched, and they really don't care how they do it. Three totem wolves and five Lycans are within the wolves, hiding their scent among them. In short, you brought a shit-show to the mountain. Am I missing anyone?" My eyes held Saint's, watching as they narrowed on me in surprise. "I may have grown up in the mountains, but I am not stupid in the ways of shit that can kill us." "I think you covered it very well, Gwendolyn," Brandon said, tilting his dark head and smiling at me as if he knew something I didn't. A bottle was put in front of me, and I reached for it, but Saint's hand landed over mine, removing the bottle from my grasp. He poured drinks into the cups on the table and placed one in front of me as he brushed his heated lips against my ear. "You will not be able to forget tonight, mate," he murmured, sending a shiver racing down my spine. "A girl can dream, Saint. Sometimes, dreams are all that's left when everything is burned to ash." "Finish your drink, and we will retire to the mating tent, Gwendolyn." "I'd rather swallow razor blades and deal with that aftermath," I muttered, seeing Brandon's smile widen. "They'd probably be gentler than I plan to be with you tonight," he continued, sending a blush rushing to my cheeks. "Drink so that I can fuck you." I tipped my glass back, finishing it, then wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. Someone said something to Saint, forcing him to turn toward the voice. My eyes slid up, which normally didn't happen at my height. I stared into Nordic-blue eyes that slid over me before shifting back to Saint. "Blessings and may the gods be kind and fill your womb tonight, Gwendolyn Jenkins. It is rare to find your true soul mate, and I am curious. Why did you reject him?" the male asked. He wasn't just any male—he was Lycan. A savage breed, they were. "I was a young girl, trying to protect Saint from my father. He gave me two impossible choices. I chose badly, apparently." "You may find happiness yet, brother." "Gwendolyn, you know of Bryson Edwards, right?" Saint asked, watching the blood drain from my face. "Don't worry. He isn't here to murder your pack. He came with me." "Velsignet er ulven og hans blodlinje, kong Bryson." "She speaks Norwegian," Bryson stated, bowing his head. "Blessed is the bride of the wolf who carries his bloodline within her womb, Princess." "I'm not actually a princess. They just enjoy calling me that to taunt me." "Your mother was a princess, and a very beautiful one at that," Bryson returned softly. "This world holds no titles, and neither do we anymore," I whispered, moving away from them to hide the shame of being blackballed wolves. Bryson's family had hunted mine down, driving us out of Norway. It was how we'd ended up here. "That was rude, Brat." "You brought enemies to our doors, and you want to speak about being rude? You realize Bryson hunted my family down and murdered most of them, right? Simply because he was a Lycan, and we weren't." "You will respect my guests, Gwendolyn. You've lived a sheltered, privileged life here. That group consists of survivors who make it their business to hunt down monsters. The only reason you're not on their kill list is that I promised to tame you and make you pay for your trespasses against all creatures." "And pray tell, how have I trespassed against these creatures?" I demanded, pausing just outside the tent. Saint's eyes burned with anger as drunken women grabbed me, whisking me into the tent. I yelped, surprised, as they began stripping me. Tora's eyes met mine as she pretended to be drunk, plopping whiskey down beside the furs they had forced me onto after being stripped naked. This tradition really needed never to be used, ever again. "Are you okay?" Tora whispered, her eyes lifted to the front of the tent where Saint had entered with his men, all of them staring at us. "I'm fine. Everything is fine. I'll be okay," I promised, uncertain if I was telling the truth. "She'll be fine, Toralei. She's my mate, not yours. Get out and stand guard with the others who will protect us for the duration of the night," Saint hissed. My best friend and the worst beta ever because, like me, she wasn't actually a beta at all, slipped through the flap to do as Saint instructed. Saint's eyes slid over my marked shoulder and then lowered to where I clenched the furs to my naked chest. His crew didn't help him shed his clothes, but they didn't leave right away either. Instead, they all stood inside the tent, crowding it while I sat awkwardly watching them. "Make her scream for us, yeah?" Jeffrey snorted, patting Saint on the back. "She'll scream for me," Saint promised, holding my gaze locked to his. The men chuckled, exiting the tent, leaving me alone to face Saint. He pushed down his pants, exposing his cock to my heated gaze. I turned away from the sight of him as nervousness plagued my mind. He was hugely endowed, and that wouldn't fit into any tight spaces without an intense amount of pain. He tugged at the furs, causing my wide eyes to swing back to where he stood, studying me. My grip tightened as a soft smile played on his mouth. His attention slid to my white-knuckled grip and narrowed before he exhaled, walking to the side of the fur pallet, crudely made for our mating. Blood rushed to my cheeks as I closed my eyes against the sleek build of his body. I could survive this, right? No matter how brutal he intended to be, I would survive this, too. I had to. My pack counted on me for their survival. I could handle one dick because, well, there wasn't any other choice.
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