The Alpha King Discovered the Rejected Omega Locked in His Brother’s Cell — His Wolf Snapped, Mine
The dungeons beneath Shadow Palace rire of despair.
Alpha King Theron Blackthornne descended the spiral staircase, his wolf prowling restlessly beneath his skin.
Something was wrong.
Something had been wrong for weeks.
A persistent itch at the back of his mind that he couldn’t name.
A restlessness that made sleep impossible and left him pacing the palace corridors at odd hours.
Your estee, I must protest.
Chancellor Voss wheezed behind him, struggling to keep pace.
These dungeons are no place for the king.
Let the guards handle this inspection.
Theren didn’t slow.
His wolf prowled restlessly beneath his skin, agitated in a way it hadn’t been in months.
The sensation had been building gradually.
First, a vague unease, then a pulling sensation toward the lower levels of the palace, and finally last night an overwhelming compulsion that had driven him from his bed before dawn.
My brother assured the council these cells were empty, the said coldly.
Yet the servants, report sounds, screaming in the night, I will not ignore such reports a moment longer.
Rats, your majesty.
Old pipes.
The palace is ancient, and the dungeon levels are prone to.
Then there’s nothing to fear from an inspection.
The tone left no room for argument.
The chancellor fell silent, though the could hear his elevated heartbeat, smell the acrid tang of anxiety in his sweat.
Interesting.
Voss had been insistent they delay this inspection, finding excuse after excuse over the past 3 days.
That alone had made Theren more determined to investigate immediately.
At the bottom of the stairs, iron torches cast dancing shadows across stone walls, slick with moisture.
The air was thick and stale, heavy with the scent of mildew and something darker.
Theron’s enhanced vision cut through the gloom easily, cataloging each cell they passed.
Empty.
Empty.
Empty.
His wolf grew more agitated with each step, claws scraping at the inside of his skin, demanding to be released.
The 12th is pulling sensation intensified, becoming almost painful in its urgency until they weren’t empty anymore.
The scent hit him first, Omega, but buried beneath layers of infection, old blood, and suffering so profound it made his chest ache.
Something else, too.
Something that made his wolf surge forward with such violence that Theren stumbled, catching himself against the wall with a hand that had already begun to shift, claws scraping against stone.
“Your Majesty?”
Voss reached for him, but Theren snarled, the sound echoing off stone and making the chancellor stumble backward.
“Which cell?
Which cell?”
His voice had dropped to a growl that was more wolf than man.
I I don’t know what you which cell.
The alpha command cracked through the air like a whip, and the felt his power roll outward in a wave that made every torch in the corridor flicker.
Voss crumpled slightly, his neck bearing in automatic submission.
The the last one, your majesty.
But that prisoner is scheduled for execution.
Prince Kalin’s orders.
You shouldn’t.
The was already moving, his boots echoing against stone as he raced toward the end of the corridor.
The scent grew stronger with each step, and with it his wolf’s agitation increased until he could barely think past the roaring in his mind.
Mine, mine, mine, the word pounded through him in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The last cell had no window, no light, save what spilled in from the corridor.
The door was reinforced iron, far heavier than the others they’d passed, with three separate locks instead of one.
At first, through the bars, Theren saw only darkness and a bundle of rags in the corner.
Then the bundle moved, and his world tilted on its axis.
She was so small, that was his first coherent thought.
Omegas were naturally smaller than alphas and betas, but this was different.
This omega had been starved.
Her frame skeletal beneath filthy clothing that might have once been fine, but now hung in tatters.
Matted hair obscured her face, falling past shoulders that shook with each labored breath.
But it was her scent that destroyed him.
Beneath the rot and suffering, beneath the infection and blood and despair, she smelled like moonlight on snow, like winter roses and pine forests after rain, and something indefinably sweet that made his wolf howl with recognition.
The scent called to something primal in him, something that predated language and civilization.
Open this cell.
The hands gripped the iron bars so hard they groaned, the metal bending slightly under the pressure of his enhanced strength.
Your majesty, please open it.
The command was so powerful that Voss’s hands were fumbling for his keyring before he could consciously decide to obey.
It took three tries.
Voss’s hands shaking so badly he kept missing the locks.
Each second felt like an eternity to Theren, his wolf raging inside him, demanding he tear the door from its hinges.
Finally, the last lock clicked.
Theren shoved the door open hard enough that it crashed against the wall with a sound like a thunderclap.
He dropped to his knees beside her, his hands hovering over her form, afraid to touch her and cause more pain.
Up close, he could see the full extent of her condition, and rage unlike anything he’d ever experienced flooded through him.
Bruises covered every visible inch of skin.
Some fresh and purple black, others faded to sickly yellow green.
Silver burns wrapped around her wrists and ankles in perfect circles, silver manicles, the kind used to suppress omega abilities, and cause excruciating pain.
The burns were infected, weeping fluid that stained the torn fabric of her clothing.
“Who did this?”
The words emerged, strangled, barely human.
The Omega didn’t respond.
Didn’t even seem to register his presence.
Her breathing was shallow and labored.
Each breath a visible struggle.
Carefully, as gently as he could manage, despite his shaking hands, Theron reached out and brushed the matted hair from her face.
The moment his fingers made contact with her skin, lightning arked through his body.
His wolf slammed against his control with such force that his vision flickered between human and alphasight.
The world going gold tinged for a moment.
Mine.
The word reverberated through every cell in his body.
Not a thought, but a truth as fundamental as gravity, as essential as breathing, as undeniable as the sun rising in the east.
Mine.
Mine.
Mine.
No, the breathed even as his wolf snarled in triumph.
No, that’s impossible.
Because this Omega, this broken creature in his brother’s dungeon wasn’t just any Omega.
She was his mate.
The realization hit him like a physical blow.
Mate bonds were rare.
Perhaps one in a thousand wolves ever found their true mate.
Most settled for chosen bonds, partnerships built on compatibility and respect rather than the sole deep recognition of a true mate.
The had long ago resigned himself to ruling alone, accepting that his mate either didn’t exist or had died before they could meet.
But here she was, dying in a cell beneath his own palace.
The Omega’s eyes fluttered open at his touch, and Theren’s heart stopped.
They were the pale gray of storm clouds, ringed with gold that seemed to glow even in the dim torch light.
For one moment they focused on his face with surprising clarity, and he saw intelligence there, strength buried beneath layers of pain and exhaustion.
Then they rolled back and she went limp in his arms.
“No, no, no,” the murmured, pressing his fingers to her throat.
Her pulse was there, but so faint he could barely detect it.
A fragile flutter beneath skin that was far too cold.
“Stay with me.
Please stay with me.”
“Get the royal physician,” Theren commanded, gathering her carefully against his chest.
She weighed nothing, all fragile bones and wasted muscle.
The reality of how close she was to death made his chest constrict with fear, unlike anything he’d felt even in battle.
“Now, Voss, run!
Your majesty, I, Prince Kalin, will, my brother, Theren said with deadly calm, standing and turning to face the chancellor, will explain why my mate was dying in his dungeon.
And if I don’t like his answers, hell wish he’d died with her.
He stroed toward the stairs, cradling his Omega against his heart where she belonged.
Behind him, he heard Voss scrambling to follow, muttering prayers under his breath.
Theron’s wolf was still howling that single word, mine.
But beneath the possessive fury was something else, a bone deep terror he’d never experienced before, not even when facing death on the battlefield, because mates were rare, sacred, and irreplaceable, and his was dying.
The journey from the dungeons to his chambers seemed to take forever, though he moved with supernatural speed.
Palace servants scattered before him, their eyes going wide at the sight of their king carrying a filthy skeletal omega.
Whispers followed in his wake, but Theon ignored them all.
Let them talk.
Let them question.
None of it mattered compared to saving her.
The royal chambers had never been used for a prisoner before, but Theren wasn’t about to let his mate out of his sight.
He dismissed the servants, ignored the scandalized protests when Dr.
Meera had first arrived, and carried her himself to his private bathing room.
Out, he told everyone.
All of you except Dr.
Meera.
Your majesty, the Omega needs medical attention.
Then attend to her.
Theren had snarled, his control fraying.
But do it where I can see you.
Dr.
Mirror, bless her practical soul, had simply rolled up her sleeves and pointed at the large bathing pool.
Fill it with warm water, not hot, her body temperature is too low for hot water.
It could send her into shock.
And find me clean linens, honey, and whatever healing herbs are in the greenhouse.
Comfrey, chundula, yarrow, if you have it.
Now, an hour later, the sat on the edge of the pool while Dr.
The miracle cleaned the Omega’s wounds with gentle, efficient movements.
They’d removed the silver manacles first.
Theron had snarled at the angry, weeping burns they’d left behind, perfect circles of destroyed flesh around her wrists and ankles.
The physician had cut away the ruined clothing carefully, revealing the full horror of what had been done to her.
The full extent of her injuries made his wolf howl for blood, bruises, burns, cuts in various stages of healing, suggesting the abuse had been ongoing for weeks or even months.
Scars that told a story of systematic torture.
Her ribs were visible through paper thin skin, evidence of prolonged starvation.
And worse, much worse, were the jagged infected wounds on her neck and shoulder where someone had tried to rip out a claiming bite.
Not just once, multiple times from the look of the overlapping scars.
Who was she mated to?
Theren asked, his voice barely human.
His hands were clenched into fists so tight his claws had extended, cutting into his own palms.
Dr.
Meera’s jaw tightened, and she was silent for a long moment before answering.
She wasn’t your majesty.
These are failed claiming attempts.
Multiple attempts from the look of it.
She met his eyes and he saw anger there that matched his own.
Someone tried to force a bond repeatedly.
Each attempt would have been agonizing, and each failure would have caused massive trauma to her body and psyche.
The marble under Theron’s hand cracked with a sound like a gunshot.
Your majesty, how long will she survive?
He needed to know, even though he dreaded the answer.
Dr.
Amira hesitated, which was answer enough.
The silver poisoning alone should have killed her days ago.
The infections, the malnutrition, the trauma from the failed bondings.
Honestly, your majesty, I don’t know how she’s still breathing.
By all medical logic, she should already be dead.
She’s strong, Theren said fiercely, though his voice shook.
Stronger than anyone knows.
Stronger than anyone who could survive this, perhaps.
But strength won’t heal silver burns or fight infection.
She needs rest, proper nutrition, and Dr.
Mirror trailed off, her expression troubled.
And what an omega in this condition needs their mates presence to heal, needs the bond to give them strength.
She looked at him meaningfully.
But that requires them to be conscious, to accept the connection.
A bond cannot be forced.
Even a true mate bond, she has to choose it.
The stared down at the Omega, his Omega floating in the warm water, her clean face finally visible, even ravaged by suffering.
She was beautiful.
High cheekbones that spoke of noble breeding, full lips now cracked and dry, lashes that lay like dark crescents against her pale cheeks.
There was something ethereal about her, something that suggested she’d been stunning before this hell had been inflicted upon her.
Then she’ll wake, he said, and it was both promise and prayer.
And I’ll be here when she does.
Dr.
Meera finished her work in silence, wrapping the worst wounds in honey soaked bandages that would help fight infection, and leaving a tray of medicines beside the pool willow bark for fever, valyan root for pain, other tinctures, and sves the didn’t recognize.
I’ll send food, broth.
Nothing heavy.
Her stomach won’t be able to handle solid food yet.
The physician paused at the door, her hand on the frame.
And your majesty, Prince Kalin is outside.
He’s demanding to speak with you.
Every muscle in the body tensed, his wolf surging forward with such violence that he felt his bones begin to shift.
“Tell my brother,” he said softly, each word dropping like a stone into still water.
That if he sets foot in my chambers before I give him leave, I’ll tear out his throat, and I won’t make it quick.”
Dr.
Meer nodded and slipped out, closing the door quietly behind her.
Alone with his mate, Theren let himself truly look at her.
His wolf was quieter now, satisfied that she was safe, clean, beginning to heal.
But the mate bond thrummed between them, incomplete and painful, like a limb that had been severed and was trying to reconnect.
It was a constant ache in his chest, a wrongness that wouldn’t be writed until the bond was complete.
He could feel her, even unconscious, could sense her pain, her exhaustion, the way her body fought for every breath.
The connection was faint, barely there, but it was real, undeniable.
“I don’t know your name,” he murmured, trailing his fingers through the water near her hand, not quite touching.
Don’t know where you came from or why my brother had you locked away.
But I swear to you, little Omega, you’re safe now.
You’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.
No one will ever hurt you again.”
As if in response, her fingers twitched.
Her lips parted slightly, and she made a sound, small, broken, but undeniably conscious.
The leaned closer, his heart leaping.
“Can you hear me?”
Her eyes opened, those storm gray eyes with their gold rings, and for the first time they truly focused on him.
He watched awareness dawn, watched her take in his face the bathroom, her own cleaned and bandaged body.
Then he watched terror flood her features.
She tried to scramble backward to get away from him, but her weakened body wouldn’t cooperate.
She only managed to splash water everywhere and reopen one of her shoulder wounds.
Fresh blood bloomed in the bathwater, a crimson stain spreading through the clear liquid.
“Stop,” Theren commanded, using just enough alpha voice to freeze her in place.
“You’re hurting yourself,” she whimpered, the sound cutting through him like a blade.
But she stopped moving.
Her chest heaved with panicked breaths, and he could smell her fear acrid and overwhelming, filling the room and making his wolf whine in distress.
His mate was afraid of him.
I’m not going to hurt you, Theren said, keeping his voice low and gentle, despite his wolf’s rage at her fear.
You’re safe here.
No one will touch you again.
I swear it on my life, on my crown, on everything I hold sacred.
She stared at him, and he saw the exact moment she recognized what he was.
Her nostrils flared, catching his scent, alpha, powerful, unmated.
Her eyes went even wider, her trembling increasing.
Please, she whispered, her voice destroyed by screaming.
Each word sounded like it hurt.
Please don’t.
Don’t what?
Don’t claim me.
A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another.
I can’t.
I can’t survive another.
She dissolved into sobs, her whole body shaking so hard the water sloshed against the sides of the pool.
Theren’s heart shattered into a thousand pieces.
Listen to me, he said urgently, desperate to ease her terror.
Whatever happened to you before, whatever someone tried to do that ends now.
I am Theren Blackthornne, Alpha King of the Northern Territories, and you, Omega, are my mate.
She sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes going wide with shock and something that might have been disbelief.
I felt it the moment I saw you.
My wolf knows you.
The Bond recognizes you.
He held her gaze, willing her to see the truth in his words.
But I won’t claim you.
Not until you’re healed.
Not until you understand what it means.
Not until you choose it.
Do you understand?
I will never force this bond.
The choice is yours and yours alone.
Choose.
She echoed the word like she’d never heard it before, like it was a foreign concept she couldn’t quite grasp.
Yes.
Because a true mate bond requires consent from both parties.
It cannot be forced.
No matter how strong the pull, and I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to give me yours.
Days, weeks, months, years, I don’t care.
I’ll wait.
For a long moment, she simply stared at him, searching his face for deception.
Theren remained perfectly still, letting her look, letting her see whatever she needed to see.
Slowly, so slowly, her shaking subsided.
The terror in her scent mellowed to confusion, then to something that might have been hope, fragile and tentative.
But there, “What’s your name?”
Theren asked softly, gently, as if speaking to a wounded animal.
She opened her mouth, then closed it, swallowed hard, wincing at what must have been pain in her throat.
Opened it again.
“Lyra,” she finally whispered.
My name is Lera.
Lera?
Theron repeated and his wolf rumbled in satisfaction, finally having a name for their mate.
That’s beautiful.
It suits you.
A ghost of something surprise maybe flickered across her face as if she hadn’t expected him to say that.
Will you let me help you out of the bath, Lera?
Get you dry and into bed where you can rest properly.
She hesitated for a long moment, fear and exhaustion waring in her expression.
Then, finally, she gave a tiny nod.
The moved slowly, telegraphing every motion as he lifted her from the water.
She was so light it terrified him, as if she might blow away in a strong wind.
He wrapped her carefully in the softest towel he owned, thick, warm fabric that probably cost more than most of people’s monthly wages, and carried her to his bed.
The bed was massive, large enough for three people with black silk sheets that had never been used.
He’d never brought anyone to his private chambers, had never wanted to.
Now he understood why he’d been waiting for her.
He laid her down gently as if she were made of spun glass, pulled the covers up to her chin, and stepped back immediately, giving her space.
Sleep, Lera.
Build your strength.
When you wake, we’ll talk more.
I’ll have food brought and Dr.
Mirror will check on you.
But right now, you need rest more than anything.
But even as her eyes drifted closed, even as her breathing evened into the rhythms of sleep, Theren saw the silver burns on her wrists begin to blacken at the edges, and he knew with sole deep certainty that his mate’s battle wasn’t over.
It had barely begun.
Lra woke to softness.
For a moment she couldn’t process it.
The sensation was so foreign, so removed from her reality of the past months that her mind rejected it as impossible.
Perhaps she was dreaming.
Perhaps she’d finally died, and this was what ever came after.
But the evidence was undeniable.
Silk sheets against her skin, smoother than anything she’d ever felt.
A mattress that cradled rather than bruised, conforming to her body’s shape.
The lingering scent of medicinal herbs and something else, something warm and woodsy and masculine that made her omega purr with contentment.
Alpha.
Her eyes snapped open and memory crashed over her like a wave.
The dungeon, the king, the impossible words he’d spoken.
My mate.
LRA’s hand flew to her throat, expecting to find fresh claiming marks, expecting pain and blood, and the beginning of another failed bond that would tear her apart from the inside.
But her fingers found only clean bandages, herbs and carefully wrapped.
“You’re awake.”
She turned her head too sharply, pain lancing through her neck to find the alpha king sitting in a chair beside the bed.
“Not on the bed,” she noticed immediately.
Not close enough to touch without permission, but near enough that she could see his face clearly in the morning light streaming through tall windows.
He was devastatingly handsome, even more so than she’d registered yesterday through her haze of pain and fear.
Strong jaw covered with dark stubble that suggested he hadn’t slept.
Sharp cheekbones that gave him an aristocratic look, dark hair that fell across his forehead in a way that should have softened his features, but somehow didn’t.
His eyes were the gold of aged whiskey, wolfbrite and fixed on her with unsettling intensity.
There were dark circles under those eyes, evidence that he’d kept watch over her all night.
“I brought food,” he said, gesturing to a tray on the bedside table.
His voice was gentle, careful, nothing like the commanding tone he’d used with the chancellor yesterday.
“Dr.
Meera said to start with broth, but I had the cooks prepare options.
In case you wanted something else.
I wasn’t sure what you liked.
Lyra stared at the tray, her mind struggling to comprehend what she was seeing.
There were three bowls of different broths, clear herb fleck and rich with vegetables, soft bread that looked freshly baked.
Honey in a small crystal dish, sliced fruit arranged in careful patterns, more food than she’d seen in months, all of it looking and smelling like it came from a royal kitchen rather than a prison.
Her stomach cramped painfully, a sharp reminder of how long it had been since she’d eaten properly.
I’m not hungry, she lied, even as her mouth watered at the sight.
One dark eyebrow arched, and his lips twitched with what might have been amusement.
Your stomach has been growling for 10 minutes.
I could hear it from here.
Heat flooded her cheeks, embarrassment mixing with weariness.
I don’t want your food.
It’s not mine.
It’s yours.
Everything in this room is yours, Lyra.
This food?
These clothes?
He gestured to what looked like a night gown draped over a nearby chair far finer than anything she’d ever owned.
This bed, this entire chamber if you wish it.
I’m not asking for anything in return.
He leaned forward slightly, his voice taking on a quality that was both gentle and somehow immovable, like iron wrapped in velvet.
LRA, I meant what I said last night.
You’re safe here.
That includes being safe from starvation.
Refusing to eat won’t protect you from me because you don’t need protection from me, but it will hurt you.
And I’ve seen enough of you being hurt to last several lifetimes.
She wanted to argue, wanted to maintain some shred of pride or defiance.
Wanted to prove she wasn’t weak, wasn’t helpless, wasn’t the broken thing Calin had made her.
But the smell of the broth was overwhelming, and her body’s needs were overriding her mind’s resistance.
Her hand crept toward the tray, almost against her will.
Theren noticed, but didn’t move, didn’t react, except for the slight relaxation of his shoulders.
He waited, patient, and still, while she lifted a bowl with shaking hands, and brought it to her lips.
The first sip made her moan involuntarily.
Rich, savory, warm in a way that spread through her chest like liquid sunlight.
She could taste chicken, herbs she couldn’t name, vegetables cooked until they were melt in your mouth soft.
It was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted, or perhaps everything tasted better when you’d been starving for months.
She took another sip, then another, drinking until the bowl was half empty before she forced herself to slow down.
Her stomach was already protesting the sudden influx of food, cramping and churning despite her hunger.
Dr.
Meera warned me, Theren said conversationally, as if they were discussing weather rather than her near starvation.
Said, “Your stomach needs time to adjust.
Too much too fast will make you sick.”
But she also said you could eat small amounts throughout the day.
I can bring more in an hour and again after that.
As many times as you need.
Lyra lowered the bowl, frustrated tears pricking her eyes.
She was still so hungry, but she knew he was right.
Her stomach was already protesting.
Why?
The word burst out before she could stop it, raw and desperate.
Why are you doing this?
Why are you being kind to me?
Because you’re my mate.
You don’t know me.
Don’t know anything about me except that you found me in a dungeon.
She clutched the bowl tighter.
Her knuckles white against the ceramic.
I could be a criminal, a traitor.
I could deserve everything that was done to me.
For all you know, your brother was justified in “Stop!”
The alpha command in his voice made her jaw snap shut automatically, and she flinched.
But then his expression softened, and he leaned back, deliberately, making himself less threatening, giving her space.
“I apologize.
I shouldn’t have used my voice on you.
But LRA, listen to me very carefully.
There is nothing you could have done to deserve what was done to you.
Nothing.
I don’t care if you committed every crime in the kingdom.
No one deserves to be tortured, starved, and subjected to forced bonding attempts.
She laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and broken.
You sound very certain.
I am certain because I’ve seen your wounds.
His jaw tightened.
And she saw his hands clench briefly before he deliberately relaxed them.
The silver burns, the starvation, the failed claiming marks on your neck and shoulder.
Someone tried to force a bond on you.
Lera tried multiple times from the look of it.
And each time it failed, each time your body rejected the false bond, you would have experienced agony beyond description.
That’s not punishment for a crime.
That’s torture.
Pure and simple.
Lyra flinched, and Theron’s expression immediately shifted to regret.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and she could hear the genuine remorse in his voice.
“I know this is too much, too fast.
You just woke up.
You’re still weak and in pain, and here I am interrogating you about trauma.
You probably want to forget.
That was thoughtless of me.
I’ll never forget,” Lra whispered, staring down at the bowl in her hands.
Every moment is burned into my memory.
The pain, the fear, the way he kept saying it would work if I just stopped fighting.
If I just accepted it.
But I couldn’t.
My body wouldn’t let me.
It knew he was wrong.
That the bond was wrong.
And it fought even when I was too weak to fight anymore.
No.
Theren agreed softly.
You’ll never forget.
The mind doesn’t work that way.
But maybe eventually the memories won’t be so sharp.
Maybe you won’t have to relive them every moment.
That’s what I hope for you, at least.
Silence fell between them.
Not quite comfortable, but not hostile either.
Lyra forced herself to take another small sip of broth while Theren sat perfectly still, clearly trying not to spook her.
It should have worked.
His stillness, his careful distance, his gentle words, they should have made her feel safer.
Instead, her wrists began to burn.
At first, she thought it was her imagination, or phantom pain from the silver manicles that had circled them for so long, but the burning intensified rapidly, spreading up her arms in lines of fire that made her gasp and nearly dropped the bowl.
The was on his feet instantly, moving with supernatural speed.
“What’s wrong, Lyra?
Talk to me.
My wrists,” she managed through gritted teeth, pulling back the sleeves of the sleeping shirt someone had dressed her in.
“The bandages, doctor,” Meera had wrapped so carefully the night before were soaked through with something dark and viscous, and she could see the fabric beginning to darken with what looked like black ink spreading outward.
The went pale, all the color draining from his face.
“That’s not normal healing.
That’s he stopped himself but LRA saw the flash of fear in his eyes quickly suppressed.
What?
She demanded her own fear spiking.
What is it?
Tell me.
Instead of answering, he moved to the door and yanked it open with enough force that it crashed against the wall.
Mirror, I need you here now.
The royal physician must have been close, perhaps sleeping in a nearby guest room, because she appeared within seconds, her medical bag already in hand, and her hair disheveled from sleep.
She took one look at Lyra’s wrists and swore creatively, words that would make a sailor blush.
I need fresh water, clean linens.
She hesitated, glancing at Theren.
Your majesty, I need to examine her properly.
It would be better if No.
Theron’s voice was flat.
Brooking no argument.
I’m not leaving her.
Your majesty.
The Omega needs privacy.
The Omega needs her mate.
Theren countered.
And Lera felt something flutter in her chest at the possessive certainty in his voice.
The bond is already forming whether we’ve completed it or not.
Being separated from me right now, especially when she’s in distress, will only make her condition worse.
You know this mirror.
You’re the one who told me that mate bonds are protective, that my presence helps her heal.
Dr.
Meera looked at Lyra, her expression serious but not unkind.
Is that acceptable to you?
Having his majesty remain in the room while I examine you?
Lyra wanted to say no, wanted to demand he leave, to have space and privacy, to process everything happening to her body and mind.
But the moment she considered him leaving, panic clawed at her throat, an irrational, overwhelming terror that if he left, something terrible would happen.
Her Omega was whimpering, distressed at the very thought of him going.
He can stay, she heard herself say, her voice barely above a whisper.
“But at a distance, please.”
Agreed,” Theren said immediately, returning to his chair, but angling it so he faced the window rather than the bed, giving her as much privacy as he could while remaining in the room.
“I won’t watch.
I’ll just be here.
If you need me, I’m here.”
Dr.
Meera nodded and began carefully unwrapping Lra’s wrists, her movements gentle but efficient.
The sight that was revealed made Lyra’s stomach turn violently.
She’d seen the burns when Calin’s men had finally removed the manacles yesterday.
Or had it been the day before, time was starting to blur.
But this was different.
Where there should have been pink new skin beginning to grow over the silver burns, instead there were black veins spreading outward like cracks in ice or tree roots searching for water.
They pulsed with a sickly silver sheen that seemed to catch the light wrong, as if the metal itself had somehow gotten into her bloodstream.
And the smell gods above.
The smell was like rotting meat mixed with molten metal, acrid and wrong and utterly nauseating.
What is that?
Lyra breathed, unable to look away from the horror of her own body.
What’s happening to me?
Dr.
Meera’s expression was grim, her lips pressed into a thin line.
Silver poisoning.
But this isn’t natural silver poisoning.
This has been enhanced somehow.
Alchemically treated to prevent healing and to spread through the bloodstream.
She probed gently at one of the black veins with her fingertip and Lyra hissed as pain shot up her arm.
I’m sorry.
I know that hurts, but I need to assess the extent.
How long were you in silver manicles?
I don’t know exactly, Lyra admitted, her voice shaking.
Time stopped meaning much down there.
Weeks certainly.
Maybe 2 months.
It’s hard to remember.
And they never removed them.
Not once.
LRA shook her head, then stopped as nausea washed over her.
Only when they tried to, she couldn’t finish the sentence.
Couldn’t say the words out loud even now.
When they tried to claim you, doctor finished quietly, her voice gentle with understanding.
She exchanged a loaded look with Theren, whose knuckles had gone white where he gripped the arms of his chair, though he kept his gaze fixed on the window as promised.
“Your majesty, we need to talk.
This is worse than I initially thought.”
“How much worse?”
The voice was steady, but Lera could hear the fear underlying it.
Could smell the sharp spike of anxiety in his scent.
The silver poisoning is too advanced.
It’s in her bloodstream now, spreading through her circulatory system toward her vital organs.
Without treatment, proper treatment, not just herbs and bandages, it will reach her heart within days, possibly hours, depending on how fast it’s spreading.
Dr.
Meera’s words fell like hammer blows.
I need to be blunt, your majesty.
This type of poisoning should have killed her already.
The fact that she’s still alive is nothing short of miraculous.
The words should have terrified her should have sent her into a panic.
Instead, Lyra felt oddly numb, as if some part of her had expected this.
Of course, she was dying.
Of course, Kalin had ensured that even if she escaped, she wouldn’t survive long enough to tell anyone what he’d done.
“Is there a treatment?”
Lyra asked, surprised by how calm her own voice sounded.
Some way to stop it for normal silver poisoning.
Yes, there are antidotes, rituals, herbs that can draw out the silver and help the body heal.
But this Dr.
Meera shook her head, frustration evident in every line of her body.
This is something I’ve never seen before.
The formula has been specifically designed not just to poison, but to resist healing.
I need to examine those manacles you mentioned, your majesty.
Need to find out exactly what compounds were used and how they were alchemically treated.
Otherwise, I’m essentially working blind.
And I can’t guarantee any treatment will work.
They’re still in my brother’s dungeon, Theren said, his voice barely controlled.
Each word forced out through what sounded like gritted teeth.
I’ll have them brought up immediately within the hour and I’ll need to speak with anyone who might know what happened to her.
Dr.
Meera continued, her tone becoming business-like clinical, how she ended up in that cell, who ordered her imprisonment, what they were trying to accomplish.
Any information might help me understand what we’re dealing with.
Theren stood abruptly, and Lero caught the flash of gold in his eyes, his wolf rising to the surface, barely leashed.
My brother ordered it.
That much is abundantly clear.
What I don’t know is why.
Why he had her imprisoned.
Why he subjected her to forced bonding attempts.
Why he used enhanced silver rather than regular manacles.
Then perhaps, Dr.
Meera said carefully, as if approaching a dangerous animal.
It’s time to ask him to demand answers.
No.
LRA’s voice cracked like a whip through the room, sharper and stronger than she’d managed since waking.
Both the doctor and the king turned to stare at her, surprise evident on their faces.
I don’t want him here.
I don’t want him anywhere near me.
Please.
The last word came out as a plea, and she hated how desperate she sounded.
But the thought of seeing Kalin again, of being in the same room with him, made her entire body begin to shake uncontrollably.
“La” Therron began, his voice gentle.
“He did this.
She was shaking now, her voice rising despite her best efforts to stay calm.”
“Prince Kalin put me in that dungeon.”
He ordered the silver manacles.
He was the one who tried to claim me, who tried to force the bond over and over and over.
And when it didn’t work, when the bond wouldn’t take, no matter how many times he tried, he just time.
He kept trying.
He said I was broken, that I was defying the goddess’s will, that if I just stopped fighting, it would work.
But it never worked.
It just hurt and hurt and hurt until I wished I would die just to make it stop.
Fresh tears were streaming down her face now, hot and unwelcome, and she couldn’t stop them any more than she could stop the words from pouring out.
The temperature in the room dropped precipitously.
Lra watched, fascinated despite her distress as frost literally formed on the windows, spreading outward from the corners in intricate crystalline patterns.
The water in the picture on the bedside table began to ice over.
It was Theren’s rage manifesting physically, his alpha power so strong it was affecting the environment itself.
My brother, he said, each word precise and deadly calm in a way that was somehow more terrifying than shouting, tried to force a mate bond with you.
Lra nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
How long?
Theren’s voice had dropped to barely above a whisper.
How long has he been doing this?
I don’t know.
Time.
Time stopped making sense down there.
Lara wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold despite the blankets.
Weeks, maybe months.
He would come every few days at first, then more often, then every day, sometimes multiple times a day, as if he thought sheer repetition would make it work.
He kept saying the bond would form eventually, that the goddess had shown him my face in a vision that I was meant to be his.
“But you’re not his mate,” Theren said, “and it wasn’t a question.
The bond wouldn’t form because you’re mine.”
“Yes,” Lera whispered, looking up at him and seeing the absolute certainty in his golden eyes.
“I would have felt it if I was his mate.
The bond would have formed, even against my will.
Even if I didn’t want it, my body would have recognized him if he was truly my mate.
But it didn’t.
It rejected him every time.
And it just it destroyed me a little more with each attempt.
Dr.
Meera was shaking her head slowly, her expression troubled.
She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, her hand hovering near Lyra’s, as if wanting to offer comfort, but unsure if touch would be welcome.
Multiple failed claiming attempts should have killed you.
The trauma alone, never mind the silver poisoning and the malnutrition and everything else.
The body and mind can only take so much.
But you’re alive.
Weak, yes, but alive.
That suggests something very unusual is happening here.
What do you mean?
Lyra asked wearily.
Mate bonds are protective by nature.
Doctor, Meera explained, her tone taking on a lecturing quality as if she were teaching rather than just explaining.
They give strength to both parties, but especially to omegas who are generally more vulnerable physically.
The bond shares resources, energy, healing ability, even life force in extreme circumstances.
If you and his majesty are true mates, as seems to be the case, then the bond might have been working to keep you alive even before you actually met.
Unconsciously, subtly, but powerfully.
Your body preparing itself to survive long enough for him to find you.
That’s impossible, Lyra protested weakly.
Even though something in her recognized the truth of it, there had been moments in the dungeon.
Moments when she should have died, when her body had clung to life for no reason she could understand.
So is surviving what you’ve survived, doctor?
Meera countered gently.
Lyra looked at Theron, who was watching her with an intensity that made her skin prickle with awareness.
Is that true?
Can bonds work that way?
I don’t know, he admitted, and she appreciated his honesty.
Mate bonds are rare enough that most of the knowledge about them is legend and hearsay rather than documented fact.
The bonded pairs who do exist tend to be very private about the details of their connection, but I do know this.
He took a step closer to the bed, then stopped, as if remembering his promise to maintain distance.
I felt you before I saw you.
My wolf has been agitated for weeks, maybe even months, restless in a way it’s never been, pulling me toward the lower levels of the palace without knowing why.
I thought I was going mad if the bond was forming even before we met.
If it was trying to guide me to you, trying to ensure I found you before it was too late.
He trailed off, his jaw tight with emotion.
Then I was dying slowly in a cell while you paced outside, unable to find me.
Lera finished bitterly, the irony of it hitting her like a physical blow.
They’d been so close, separated by mere stone and iron, and yet it had taken so long for him to find her.
“No,” Theron said fiercely, moving closer despite his earlier promise, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.
Then you were surviving impossibly.
Your body and soul holding on with supernatural strength while I hunted for you with every resource at my disposal.
Your Omega knew I was coming.
It knew to hold on just a little longer.
His hand moved as if to touch her face, then stopped midway, hovering in the air between them.
Through the incomplete bond, LRA could feel his desire to comfort her, waring with his determination not to touch without explicit permission.
Slowly, hesitantly, she reached up and closed the distance, pressing her cheek into his palm.
The relief that flooded through the bond was overwhelming, making them both gasp.
The other hand came up to cup her other cheek, cradling her face with infinite gentleness.
And now that I found you, he said, his voice rough with emotion.
Now that we’re together, the bond can complete properly.
You can heal.
We can save you.
Unless the silver poisoning kills me first, Lyra said, unwilling to let herself hope too much.
A knock at the door interrupted them, sharp and urgent.
It opened before anyone could respond, and a guard stepped in, his face pale with something that looked like fear.
Your Majesty, forgive the intrusion, but Prince Kalin is outside the throne room.
He’s demanding an immediate audience, he says.
He says, “You have something that belongs to him, and he wants it returned at once.”
The frost on the windows intensified, spreading to cover nearly the entire surface.
The wolf was so close to the surface now that Lyra could see the edge of fur beginning to ripple beneath his skin, could see his eyes flickering between human gold and wolf gold.
Tell my brother,” Therron said with deadly calm, each word dropping like stones into dark water.
That nothing in this palace belongs to him anymore.
Not one stone, not one sword, not one subject.
Everything he has, his title, his lands, his apartments, his very life exists at my pleasure and my pleasure alone.
And right now, right at this very moment, I am not particularly pleased with him.”
The guard swallowed hard, his throat working visibly.
He says, he says, “If you don’t return his Omega within the hour, he’ll go to the council of alphas.
He’ll claim you’re holding his destined mate against her will, interfering with a goddess ordained bond.
He says he has documents, witnesses, proof that she belongs to him by right of prior claim.”
Lra’s blood turned to ice in her veins.
Her heart, which had been beating so hopefully just moments ago, felt like it stopped entirely.
“His mate,” Theren repeated slowly, as if testing the words for hidden traps, his destined mate.
He looked at Lera, and she saw murder in his eyes, not directed at her, but at his brother.
“Is that what he told you?
That you were his mate ordained by the goddess?”
LRA nodded, unable to speak past the fear constricting her throat.
Through the bond, she felt Theron’s rage building cold, controlled, but absolutely lethal.
He said, he said the moon goddess had shown him my face in a vision, that I was meant to be his, that our bond was written in the stars and blessed by the divine, that the bond would form eventually if he just kept trying, if I just stopped fighting destiny.”
Her voice broke on the last word.
I was so scared and in so much pain.
And he kept saying, “If I just submitted, if I just accepted what the goddess wanted, it would stop hurting.”
But it never stopped.
It only got worse each time.
And I started to think maybe I was the one who was broken.
Maybe I was somehow defying divine will and that’s why it hurt so much.
He lied.
Theren’s voice was flat, absolute.
The moon goddess doesn’t work that way.
She doesn’t ordain bonds that cause agony.
She doesn’t bless forced maintings.
Your body rejected him because he wasn’t your mate.
Lra, you’re not broken.
You never were.
He lied to you to justify his cruelty.
I know that now, Lra said quietly.
But then she couldn’t finish.
Didn’t need to.
Theren understood.
Through the bond she felt his hands trembling with suppressed violence.
Did he hurt you in other ways?
The question was quiet, but she heard everything he was really asking beneath the words.
She understood what he meant, what he was too careful to ask directly.
“No,” she said, and watched some of the terrible tension leave his shoulders.
He tried to claim me, tried to force the bond, but he never.
The bond has to form before mating can be completed.
Since the bond wouldn’t take, since my body kept rejecting him, he couldn’t complete the mating.
I think that made him even more furious.
He wanted to own me completely, but my body wouldn’t allow it.
Her cheeks burned with humiliation at having to explain this, at having to discuss her body’s most intimate responses with near strangers.
But they needed to understand what had happened.
Dr.
Meera cleared her throat delicately.
Your Majesty, we need to make a decision.
And quickly, if Prince Kalin takes this to the Council of Alphas, if he presents evidence of a prior claim, “There is no prior claim,” Theron snalled, his composure cracking for the first time.
“He tortured her.
That’s not a claim.
That’s a crime.
Let him go to the council.
Let him stand before the assembled alphas and explain the failed claiming marks on her neck.
Let him explain the silver poisoning, the starvation, and the months of systematic abuse.
Let him try to justify calling that a goddess blessed bond.
He stopped abruptly, his head whipping toward Lra, his nostrils flaring as if scenting the air.
Your scent, Lyra, your scent is changing.
Lyra looked down at her arms, following his gaze.
The black veins had spread significantly since Dr.
Meera had unwrapped the bandages.
They were past her elbows now, creeping steadily toward her shoulders, pulsing with that sickly silver sheen that made her stomach turn, and she could feel it now, a wrongness spreading through her body like ice in her veins, foreign and invasive and terrifying.
Dr.
Meera, her voice came out small, frightened, all her earlier bravado evaporating in the face of visible proof of her dying body.
The physician was already moving with swift efficiency, pressing her fingers to LRA’s neck to check her pulse, then her wrist, listening to her heartbeat through some kind of tube she pulled from her medical bag.
Her expression grew progressively grimmer with each assessment.
The poison is accelerating.
Your body is fighting it as hard as it can.
But she looked up at the LRA saw fear in the healer’s eyes for the first time.
But it’s not strong enough.
Not on its own, your majesty.
The incomplete mate bond is keeping her alive, but barely.
It’s like a dam holding back a flood.
It’s slowing the poison’s progress, but not stopping it.
If we don’t complete the bond soon, fully and properly, she’s going to die.
Possibly within hours.
No, Lra said sharply, surprising herself with the force of it.
I’m not completing any bond while I’m dying from poison.
I’m not trapping him, she gestured weakly at Theren to a mate who might be dead in hours.
That’s not fair.
That’s not right.
You won’t die, Theron said fiercely, kneeling beside the bed so they were eye level.
So close she could see flexcks of amber in his golden eyes.
I won’t let you.
You can’t promise that, Lra said, tears beginning to slip down her cheeks again despite her best efforts.
You can’t control this.
None of us can.
Watch me.
He stood abruptly, striding to the door and yanking it open, barking orders at the guards outside with the full force of his alpha authority.
Bring me Prince Kalin now.
I don’t care if you have to drag him.
And someone find me the royal alchemist, Master Aldrich.
I don’t care if you have to pull him out of bed or away from his experiments.
I want him in my presence within the next 10 minutes or heads will roll.
Then he was back at Lera’s side, kneeling again, taking her hand in both of his with exquisite gentleness, despite the violence she could feel thrumming through him via their bond.
Listen to me very carefully, Lera.
I am going to fix this.
I’m going to find out exactly what poison they used, exactly how it was made, and I’m going to find a way to cure you.
But I need you to fight.
I need you to hold on long enough for me to save you.
Can you do that?
Can you be as strong now as you were in that dungeon?
Why?
The question came out as a whisper.
We just met.
You don’t owe me anything.
You could let me die and find another mate.
Someone who isn’t broken and poisoned.
And stop.
His hands tightened on hers.
Not painfully, but firmly.
Grounding.
Stop saying things like that.
You’re not broken.
And I don’t want another mate.
I want you.
I’ve waited my entire life for you without even knowing it.
My wolf has been searching for you across years and miles and kingdoms.
And now that I’ve found you, now that I finally know what my soul has been aching for all this time, do you really think I’m going to let you go without a fight?
Do you really think I’m going to let some alchemical poison steal you from me?
His hand hovered near hers, trembling slightly with restrained emotion, asking permission even now.
Lyra looked at that hand strong and scarred from battle, capable of terrible violence, but offering only gentleness now.
Then she looked at his face, saw the desperate sincerity there, the golden wolf gleaming in his eyes that recognized her on some primal level she couldn’t deny or explain.
Slowly, hesitantly, she placed her poisoned hand in his.
The moment their skin made full contact, electricity arked between them, bright and hot and undeniable.
The incomplete bond surged forward like a living thing, and Lyra gasped as she felt his emotions flood through the connection in an overwhelming wave.
Rage at his brother so intense it made her dizzy.
Terror for her safety, bone deep and all-consuming.
Determination to save her absolute and unshakable.
And underneath it all, woven through everything else like golden thread through dark fabric, a fierce possessive love that took her breath away.
He barely knew her, had met her less than a day ago.
And yet he loved her with an intensity that defied logic or reason.
“I feel you,” she whispered in wonder, her eyes wide with shock and awe.
“I can feel everything, your anger, your fear, your everything.
And I feel you,” Theren said, his thumb stroking gently over her knuckles, careful of the black veins spreading beneath her skin.
Your pain, your fear, your exhaustion and suffering, but also your strength, Lyra.
Gods above and below.
You’re so strong.
Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.
Stronger than warriors who fought in a hundred battles.
You survived months of torture that would have broken most people in days.
You’re the strongest person I know.
I don’t feel strong, Lra admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
I feel like I’m dying.
You’re not, Theren said.
And through the bond, she felt his absolute conviction, his refusal to accept any other outcome.
I won’t let you.
I’ll tear apart this entire kingdom if that’s what it takes.
I’ll hunt down every alchemist, every healer, every wise woman in the realm.
I’ll make deals with forces I shouldn’t even know exist.
Whatever it takes, Lyra.
Whatever it takes.
But even as he said it, even as the mate bond hummed between them with desperate promise, Lra felt the black veins pulse with sickly light, felt the silver poison surge toward her heart like a predator scenting weakness.
And she knew with bone deep certainty that made her want to weep that time was running out faster than any of them wanted to admit.
Prince Kalin Blackthornne had never looked more like his older brother than he did in that moment, and that resemblance made Theren’s wolf howl for blood.
They had the same dark hair, though Kalin wore his shorter, more precisely groomed, the same strong build, though Kalin was slightly smaller, his muscles more for show than practical strength.
Even the same gold eyes, though where the burned with barely leashed power, Kalin’s held a calculating coldness that made Lera’s skin crawl.
“Brother,” Kalin said smoothly, entering the royal chambers with the confidence of someone who believed himself untouchable.
His lips curved in what might have been a smile, but there was no warmth in it.
“I heard you found my Omega.
I’ve been searching everywhere for her.
You can’t imagine my relief when I heard she was safe.
Theron’s control was hanging by a thread.
He stood between Kalin and the bed where LRA lay.
Dr.
Meera hovering protectively over her and concentrated on not shifting and tearing his brother’s throat out right here in his own chambers.
You’re Omega, Theron repeated, his voice dangerously soft, the calm before a lethal storm.
Interesting claim considering she’s not marked with your scent, not bonded to you, not bearing any sign of belonging to you except the torture marks you left on her body.
Kalin had the audacity to look offended, his expression shifting to one of wounded innocence.
Torture, brother, is that what she told you?
Please.
She’s confused, traumatized from her time in captivity.
I was trying to help her by locking her in a dungeon.
Theron’s voice rose slightly, his control slipping.
By protecting her, Kalin’s voice took on a passionate quality, as if he genuinely believed what he was saying from herself and from others who would exploit her condition.
She doesn’t understand, Theren.
She doesn’t see the bigger picture.
Her condition, Theron said slowly, dangerously.
Being that she’s an amigga, that’s what required imprisonment and torture.
Her designation being that she’s a valuable omega.
Kalin corrected, moving slightly closer.
Theron’s warning growl made him stop, hands raising in a placating gesture.
Come now, brother.
You’ve been king for 3 years.
In that time, how many unclaimed, fertile omegas have you personally encountered in our territory?
The jaw clenched so hard he heard his teeth grind.
The answer was none, and they both knew it.
Omegas were rare, perhaps one in every hundred wolves, and fertile omegas of bonding age even more so.
Most were claimed within days of their first heat, snapped up by eager alphas, or taken by their own pack members.
Finding an unmated Omega was almost unheard of.
Finding one who was compatible as a true mate was meant to be once in a lifetime.
So, you imprisoned her, Theron said flatly.
Tortured her with enhanced silver, tried repeatedly to force a bond that clearly wasn’t meant to be.
All because omegas are rare and you wanted to own one.
All because she’s mine, Kalin said, and for the first time, real emotion flickered across his face.
Possessiveness, hunger, something dark and twisted.
I found her first, The Theren.
I recognized her scent.
Felt my wolf respond to her.
By all rights of discovery, by ancient Paclaw, she belongs to me.
There are no rights of discovery when it comes to mates.
Theren roared, his alpha power rolling through the room in a wave that made the windows rattle and the flames in the fireplace leap higher.
Mate bonds aren’t about who finds someone first, who sees them and decides they want them.
They’re about compatibility, recognition, the will of the moon goddess herself.
And the goddess clearly didn’t choose you for her or the bond would have formed.
Behind the he heard LRA make a small pained sound.
His wolf surged protectively, wanting to go to her to comfort her, but he couldn’t turn his back on Kalin.
Not when his brother’s eyes had taken on that calculating gleam that meant he was planning something.
And you think the goddess chose you?
Kalin laughed, the sound bitter and sharp.
You who’s been king for three years without finding a mate.
You who’s been so obsessed with duty and honor and ruling justly that you’ve never even looked at an Omega twice.
You who’s been married to this kingdom and nothing else.
No, brother.
She was meant for me.
I felt it the moment I saw her.
My wolf recognized her.
The bond would have formed if she’ just stopped fighting it.
Stopped resisting destiny.
Except she wasn’t resisting destiny, Dr.
Meera interjected, her voice cold with professional disapproval.
She was resisting you.
Her body was rejecting a false bond because you aren’t her mate.
You never were.
You know nothing, Kalin began.
But Theon cut him off.
If she was meant for you, Theren said with deadly calm.
Then why wouldn’t the bond form?
Why did every claiming attempt nearly kill her?
Mate bonds are supposed to bring strength, healing, completion, not agony, not trauma, not slow death.
Because she fought it, Kalin said as if this was obvious, as if it explained everything.
Omegas in her situation rescued from difficult circumstances, uncertain of their future, they often resist out of fear, even when it’s in their best interest to accept the bond.
It’s well documented.
With time, with proper guidance and consistent effort, she would have accepted.
The bond would have formed.
We would have been happy.
With torture and silver poisoning, you mean?
Theron said flatly.
That’s your idea of guidance.
That’s how you convince someone to love you.
I never, Kalin stopped himself, and Theron saw the moment his brother realized he’d revealed too much.
The silver was necessary for everyone’s safety, not just my own.
Explain.
The command in Theron’s voice was absolute.
She’s not just any Omega Theron.
Surely you’ve noticed by now.
She’s Kalin hesitated, clearly weighing how much to reveal, calculating which truths would serve him best.
She has abilities, dangerous ones that she doesn’t understand or control.
The silver was the only way to suppress them safely.
“What kind of abilities?”
“Doctor,” Meera asked sharply, her healer’s instincts clearly peaked.
Kalin’s gaze shifted to the physician, then back to Theron.
“That’s classified information.”
“Council business.
I’m not authorized to discuss it with.”
“I am the king,” Theren said quietly.
And there was something in his voice that made even Kalin take a step back.
I am the alpha of all alphas, the ruler of these territories, the final authority on everything that happens within these borders.
There is no information classified above my clearance.
There is no council business that is not ultimately my business.
So I’ll ask you again, brother, and this time you’ll answer fully and truthfully.
What abilities does LRA have that required silver poisoning and torture to suppress?
The two brothers stared at each other, a battle of wills playing out in the charged silence.
Finally, Kalin’s shoulders sagged slightly in what might have been resignation or defeat.
“Fine,” he said, crossing his arms defensively.
“She’s a healer, but not the normal kind that works with herbs and picuses and prayer.
She can heal with touch, with energy that flows directly from her body into others.
I’ve seen her close wounds that should have been fatal, cure infections that should have killed within hours, even bring someone back from the edge of death itself.
It’s a rare gift, one that hasn’t been seen in omegas for generations.
Some say it hasn’t been seen since the ancient times before the kingdoms were divided.
The heart stuttered, then began racing.
He looked back at LRA, saw her staring at Kalin with an expression of betrayal and resignation, as if she’d known this was coming.
You told me it was evil, she whispered, her voice roar with old pain.
You said my gift was unnatural, wrong, a perversion of the goddess’s will.
That I needed to be contained before I accidentally hurt someone, before I spread corruption through healing.
You said I was dangerous.
Because it is dangerous, Kalin insisted, taking a step toward the bed before Theron’s warning snall stopped him cold.
Healing magic that powerful in the wrong hands in hands that don’t understand the responsibility it could be weaponized could be turned to terrible purposes.
She heals people, the interrupted, his voice sharp with contempt.
How exactly is that dangerous?
How is closing wounds and curing illness a weapon?
Because healing magic can also harm if the wielder knows how, Kalin said.
And there was something almost fanatical in his expression.
Now, a true believer explaining self-evident truths to the unenlightened.
The same power that knits tissue can tear it apart.
The same energy that cures infection can spread it.
The same gift that restarts a heart can stop it.
Healing magic is about controlling the body’s processes.
And that control can be used for good or ill.
She doesn’t understand that she doesn’t know how to control her gift.
Doesn’t comprehend the full scope of what she’s capable of.
I was trying to teach her to help her master it before she accidentally killed someone in an attempt to help them by torturing her.
Theren said by suppressing the power until she was ready to learn proper control.
Calin corrected the silver was necessary.
It’s the only substance that can reliably suppress magical abilities without killing the wielder.
Yes, it’s painful, but it’s a necessary pain.
Like setting a broken bone, it hurts, but it’s required for proper healing.
Liar, LRA said, and her voice was stronger now, filled with a fury that made her gray eyes flash.
You didn’t want to teach me control.
You wanted to control me.
To use my gift for yourself, to make yourself indispensable to the kingdom by having a personal healer who could cure anything.
That’s why you tried to force the bond so you’d have permanent, unbreakable access to my power.
Kalin’s expression darkened, a flash of something ugly crossing his features before he smoothed it away.
I wanted to protect you.
You wanted to own me.
Lera tried to sit up and Dr.
Amira quickly moved to support her shoulders, helping her into a more upright position.
You said if I bonded with you, if I became your mate, you’d keep me safe from those who would exploit my powers.
But you were the one exploiting them.
You were the one who wanted to use me as a tool, a weapon, a resource to be mined until there was nothing left.
She stopped abruptly, her hand flying to her mouth as if she’d said too much, revealed something she’d meant to keep hidden.
The moved closer to the bed, his attention fully on LRA now, despite the dangerous presence of his brother in the room.
What did he make you do, LRA?
What did he force you to use your gift for?
She shook her head, fresh tears streaming down her face.
I can’t.
If I tell you, if anyone finds out what I did, no one will hurt you, Theren promised.
And he poured every ounce of sincerity he possessed through the bond, letting her feel his absolute conviction.
I swear it on my life, on my crown, on everything I hold sacred.
Whatever you’ve done, whatever he forced you to do, you’re under my protection now.
Nothing and no one will touch you.
She healed the southern rebels, Kalin said flatly.
And Lra flinched as if struck.
After we captured them following the border skirmishes last spring, after I explicitly ordered their execution as traitors to the crown, she used her gift to save enemy combatants, prolonging a war that should have ended.
And when I found out, you locked her in a dungeon and tried to claim her against her will.
Theren finished, his voice hollow with realization.
And when that didn’t work, when the bond refused to form, you poisoned her with enhanced silver to ensure she couldn’t escape or use her powers to save herself.
Kalin’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it.
Couldn’t deny it.
Not with the evidence literally dying in front of them.
She committed treason against the crown, he said instead, his voice taking on a self-righteous quality.
She aided enemies of the kingdom.
Saved lives that should have been forfeit.
That’s a capital offense.
Theren, you know the law as well as I do.
She saved lives.
Theron corrected, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl.
She’s a healer.
That’s what healers do.
They heal.
They don’t discriminate based on politics or borders or which side someone fights for.
She followed her calling, her goddess-given gift.
And you punished her for having compassion, for seeing wounded people as people rather than just enemies to be eliminated.
She’s naive, Kalin spat.
She doesn’t understand war.
Doesn’t comprehend the larger strategic picture.
No.
Theren interrupted, his voice hard as iron.
You’re the one who doesn’t understand.
You don’t understand that healing is sacred, that life is sacred, that trying to twist a gift for good into a weapon for war makes you the monster in this situation, not her.
He took a step toward his brother, and Kalin instinctively backed up, finally showing a flicker of fear.
You’re not her king, Kalin.
I am, and I’m telling you now, unequivocally, and finally, Lyra is under my protection.
She’s my mate, recognized by my wolf and by the bond forming between us.
You have no claim to her.
You never did.
Your so-called prior claim is based on torture and false imprisonment, which means it’s not a claim at all.
It’s a crime.
The council won’t see it that way, Kalin said, but his voice shook slightly.
I have documents, witnesses, evidence of my claim.
They’ll support me.
The council will see whatever I tell them to see.
I’m the alpha king, Kalin.
I don’t answer to the council.
They answer to me.
Their authority exists because I allow it.
Because a wise king surrounds himself with advisers.
But make no mistake, if the council tries to come between me and my mate, I will dissolve it entirely and rule by absolute decree.
Is that clear?
Even if it means war?
Kalin asked quietly.
And there was something calculating in his expression again.
Because that’s what you’re risking here, brother.
The rebels LRA healed are still out there, still fighting against crown authority.
If it becomes known that the king’s mate aided them.
If the other packs learn that you’re protecting someone who committed treason, then I’ll deal with the political fallout.
Theren said, “I’ll explain the situation.
Make them understand that a healer following their calling isn’t the same as a warrior choosing sides.
And if they can’t understand that, if they can’t see the difference between compassion and treachery, then perhaps they’re not fit to be part of this kingdom.
But I won’t abandon my mate to appease wararmongers and power- hungry fools who want to turn healing magic into a weapon.
Kalin studied him for a long moment.
Something calculating flickering behind his eyes.
You really believe she’s your true mate, don’t you?
You really think the goddess chose you for her?
I don’t think I know, Theren said with absolute certainty.
I felt it the moment I saw her.
There was no doubt, no hesitation, and no question.
My wolf recognized its other half immediately.
Then prove it, Kalin gestured toward Lyra, a challenge in his voice and expression.
Complete the bond.
Claim her properly in front of witnesses in the traditional way.
Let the pack feel the mate bond snap into place.
Let them witness the connection form.
Because brother, if you can’t complete the bond, his smile was cold, victorious.
Then maybe my wolf was right all along.
Maybe the goddess did intend her for me, and your wolf is just confused by proximity and the scent of an unclaimed Omega.
Theron’s hands clenched into fists, claws extending slightly, because Kalin had just backed him into a corner with the political skill of a master manipulator.
If the bond wouldn’t complete, if the couldn’t successfully claim Lera in the traditional manner with witnesses present, it would cast doubt on whether they were truly mates at all.
The pack would question, the council would question, and that would give Kalin grounds to challenge the bond, to argue that his claim was legitimate after all, that the was simply trying to take what rightfully belonged to his brother.
But completing a mate bond required two willing participants, required trust, acceptance, and readiness, required the Omega to choose freely and without coercion to accept the Alpha’s claim.
And LRA was still terrified, still traumatized, still dying from poison that was spreading through her veins.
Even as they argued, she was in no condition to make such a choice.
And even if she was, Theon refused to pressure her.
Refused to become like his brother, using necessity and circumstance to force her into something she might not be ready for.
“Get out,” Theren said softly, his voice deadly calm.
“Brother, I have a right.
Get out.
The Alpha Command crashed through the room like a physical force, so powerful that every piece of glass in the chamber cracked.
Vases shattered.
The mirror above the wash basin spiderwebed.
Even the windows developed fracture lines spreading outward from the corners.
Kalin staggered backward, his wolf forced into submission by the sheer overwhelming power of Theron’s dominance.
His neck bared involuntarily, his body going into automatic submit posture despite his conscious resistance.
But as he reached the door, as the guards moved to escort him out, Kalin turned back, his expression was a mixture of submission and triumph, fear and satisfaction.
“You have until the full moon, brother,” he said, his voice still shaking from the force of the command, but steady enough to deliver his threat.
“3 days.
If the bond isn’t completed by then properly and with appropriate witnesses, I’m taking this but to the council of alphas.
I’ll present my evidence, my documents, and my witnesses, and I will claim what’s mine.
The goddess gave her to me first.
You’re just too stubborn to see it.
He left, the door slamming behind him with enough force to rattle the remaining intact glass in the frames.
Silence fell over the room, broken only by LRA’s labored breathing and the crackling of the fire in the hearth that had somehow survived the Alpha Commands destruction.
3 days, Dr.
Meera said finally, her voice quiet but urgent.
Your Majesty, in 3 days, given the rate at which the silver poisoning is spreading, she’ll be dead.
The poison will have reached her heart.
There won’t be a bond to complete because there won’t be an Omega to claim.
No, the said fiercely, turning back to LRA.
She won’t die.
I won’t let that happen.
He moved to the bed, kneeling beside it so they were eye level.
Do you understand what just happened?
Your brother gave us an ultimatum, Lra said hollowly, her voice flat, and resigned.
“Complete the bond in 3 days or lose me to him.
Die fighting the bond or die completing it.
Either way, I die or he wins.
No, Theren said, “That’s not what happened.
What happened is my brother revealed himself as the manipulative, power- hungry fool he is.
He admitted to torture, to attempted forced bonding, to using a mate claim as justification for imprisonment and abuse.
That’s treason, Lyra.
High treason against a member of the royal household and against your true mate.
I can have him executed for what he’s done to you.
But you won’t, Lyra said.
And it wasn’t a question.
Why do you say that?
Because he’s your brother.
Blood, family, and because executing a prince without overwhelming public support would cause political chaos, maybe even civil war.
She met his eyes, and he saw understanding there that went beyond her years.
I’m not worth that.
One Omega isn’t worth tearing apart a kingdom.
You’re worth everything, Theren said fiercely, taking her hand despite the black veins spreading beneath her skin.
Don’t you understand that yet?
You’re not just any Omega.
You’re not just a person in need of rescue or a political problem to be solved.
You’re my mate, the other half of my soul, the person I’ve been searching for my entire life without even knowing it.
The reason my wolf has been restless and unsatisfied despite having everything a king could want, land, power, wealth, respect, none of it mattered because you weren’t there.
“And now that I found you, now that I finally understand what’s been missing, do you really think I’m going to let you go without a fight?”
“Pretty words,” Lyra said bitterly, though through the bond he could feel that part of her wanted desperately to believe him.
“But they won’t save me from the poison.
Won’t make completing the bond safe.
Won’t change the fact that we’re trapped between two impossible choices.
She gasped suddenly, her hand flying to her chest.
The black veins were spreading faster now, visible beneath the collar of her sleeping shirt, creeping up her neck toward her face and down her chest toward her heart.
The progression was accelerating.
“Dr.
Meera,” Theren barked, fear making his voice sharp.
The physician was already moving, pulling out instruments and vials from her everpresent medical bag.
The confrontation with Prince Kalin triggered a stress response.
Her heart is racing, her blood pressure is elevated, and that’s making the poison spread faster through her circulatory system.
She looked at Theren grimly, and he saw the truth in her eyes before she spoke it aloud.
“We’re not running out of time anymore, your majesty.
Time has run out.
If we’re going to do something, it needs to be now.
Not in 3 days.
Not tomorrow.
Now.
Then what do we do?
Theren demanded, desperation making his voice crack.
There has to be something, some treatment, some ritual, some.
We complete the bond, LRA said quietly, her voice cutting through his rising panic.
Everyone turned to stare at her.
It’s the only thing that might work, isn’t it?
The mate bond is protective.
It gives strength, shares resources, helps Omega’s heal.
If we complete it fully and properly, maybe, just maybe, it will give me the power to fight the poison.
Or it could kill you, Dr.
Meera said bluntly.
And Theron wanted to throttle her for her honesty, even though he knew she was right.
Completing a mate bond requires an enormous amount of energy, Lyra.
The claiming, the mating, the final joining of two souls into one, it’s physically and emotionally exhausting.
Even for healthy wolves in your weakened state, with the poison already in your system and spreading, the strain of completing the bond might be too much.
Your heart might not be able to handle it.
Then I’ll die either way, Lyra said.
And there was a calmness in her voice that terrified Theon more than tears or panic would have.
This was the resignation of someone who’d already accepted their death, who’d made peace with it.
At least this way, I’ll die having chosen something for myself instead of having it forced on me.
At least I’ll die knowing I tried, that I fought for something good instead of just suffering and waiting for the end.
Theren felt like his heart was being torn in two, like his chest was being split open and his soul was being ripped out.
Lera, I can’t I can’t ask you to do this.
Can’t ask you to risk your life on a gamble that might not work.
Can’t ask you to trust me, to let me claim you when we barely know each other and you’re terrified.
And I’m sure, Lra interrupted, and she reached out with a trembling hand to touch his face.
Her fingertips were ice cold against his skin.
I felt it, too.
You know, when you found me in that cell, when you touched me for the first time, my Omega recognized you even through all the pain and fear and suffering.
Even when I didn’t understand what was happening, when I thought I was hallucinating from the poison, some part of me knew.
You’re mine as much as I’m yours.
The bond is real, Theron.
I feel it every time you’re near, every time you look at me.
And I’d rather die trying to complete it than live knowing I was too afraid to even try.
But there isn’t time to argue, Lera said.
And her voice was getting weaker now, fading.
You heard Dr.
Mirror.
If we’re going to do this, it needs to be now.
So, either we take the risk or we wait or I die anyway.
Those are our only options.
There has to be another way, The said desperately, even though he knew there wasn’t.
We fight the poison first.
Find Master Uldrich, force him to create an antidote, get you strong enough that the bond won’t.
There isn’t time, LRA repeated, and she cupped his face with both hands.
Now her touch so cold it sent a chill through him.
The black veins were visible on her hands now spreading across her knuckles like dark lace.
Theren, I need you to hear me.
Really hear me.
I’m not afraid of dying.
I’ve been dying for months.
I’ve made my peace with it.
But I am afraid, so terribly afraid of dying without knowing what it feels like to be truly bonded, to be chosen freely, to be loved.
Not because someone wants to use me or own me, but just because I exist.
Do you understand?
I don’t want to die wondering what we could have been.
“You are loved,” Theren said roughly, his own eyes burning with tears.
He refused to let fall.
“I love you, Lyra.
I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you.
And I know that sounds impossible.
I know it defies logic and reason and everything we’re supposed to understand about how feelings develop, but it’s true.
My wolf knew you instantly, and my human heart wasn’t far behind.
How could I not love you?
How could anyone know you, see your strength and compassion, and refusal to break despite everything, and not love you?
Then love me enough to let me choose this,” Lyra said, and her voice was barely above a whisper now.
“Love me enough to complete the bond before I lose the strength to accept it.
Love me enough to give me this one choice, this one moment of agency before the end comes.”
She leaned forward, and he met her halfway, their foreheads touching in the traditional gesture of trust and connection.
Through the bond, Theron felt her determination, her fear, her desperate hope that this might work.
Felt her love for him fragile and new, but undeniably real, growing despite the impossible circumstances.
And he felt the poison, cold and invasive, spreading through her with horrifying speed.
Dr.
Meera cleared her throat.
Your majesty, if you’re going to do this, I need to explain the process.
The mate bond completes in three stages, and all three must be completed for the bond to fully form and provide maximum protective benefits.
Tell me, The said, not taking his eyes off LRA.
First is the claiming bite.
You mark her neck, she marks yours in return.
That creates the initial connection, the foundation of the bond.
Second is the mating itself, the physical consumation that deepens and solidifies the connection.
And third is the recognition ceremony where the pack witnesses and acknowledges the bond publicly, making it official and unbreakable under PAC law.
We can skip the ceremony, The said immediately.
If it’s a choice between completing it publicly or saving her life, there’s no choice at all.
No, you can’t skip it.
Dr.
The mira corrected gently but firmly.
Not if you want to protect her from Prince Kalin’s challenge.
A bond that’s only partially completed that hasn’t been witnessed and accepted by the pack isn’t fully legitimate in the eyes of the council or pack law.
It can be challenged, questioned, potentially even dissolved if enough council members support it.
If you want to ensure LRA is truly safe, that she can never be claimed by your brother or anyone else, you need to complete all three stages.
So, we need to complete all three stages, LRA said, her voice getting weaker with each word.
The claiming, the mating, and the public recognition.
All of it within a few hours, probably.
While I’m dying from poison, what could possibly go wrong?
Despite everything, Theren felt a flicker of admiration at her dark humor.
She was dying, terrified, in agony, and she could still make jokes.
She was extraordinary.
“Yes,” Dr.
Meera said, and Theren appreciated that she wasn’t sugar coating the situation.
“All three stages, as quickly as we can manage them.
It won’t be easy.
It won’t be what either of you probably imagined for your bonding, but it’s the only way.”
LRA looked at Theren and in her storm gray eyes he saw determination hardening like steel.
Then let’s not waste any more time talking about it.
She reached for him pulling him closer and tilted her head to expose her neck in the ancient gesture of submission and trust.
Claim me Alpha.
Make me yours before it’s too late.
Show me what it feels like to be chosen.
And then her voice broke slightly.
Then whatever happens, at least I’ll die knowing I was loved.
And Theron, staring at his brave, beautiful dying mate, made the hardest decision of his life.
He let his wolf rise to the surface, felt his canines extend, and his eyes shift to full alpha gold.
Let the bond surge between them, incomplete and desperate, but so achingly real, and lowered his mouth to her throat.
Mine,” he growled against her skin and felt her shiver.
“Yours!”
She breathed back, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair.
“Always yours.”
And the claiming began.
