Chapter 2
Romie's POV
The aftermath of my revenge tasted like ash and cheap victory. I stood in my chamber, the scent of her still thick in the air… the mix of musk, desperation, and raw, unwanted mate bond—and I hated it all.
I had asserted my dominance, avenged my father, and humiliated the Alpha's daughter, but the satisfaction was fleeting, replaced by a deep, gnawing guilt that my Wolf refused to suppress.
She is my mate, the primal voice in my mind snarled. You took her in hatred, but she is still our mate.
"She is Hector's spawn," I countered out loud, my teeth grinding. "She is the reason my childhood was stolen."
I paced the room, trying to regain control. I needed to focus on securing the pack, not on the broken girl I'd tossed into the dungeon. The pack was mine, but my authority was tenuous, built on bloodshed and the forced compliance of the former guards. I needed a distraction, a display of strength that would unite them under my new rule.
Just then, a hurried knock announced Daphne. She entered, her face pale and trembling, playing the role of the devoted subordinate perfectly.
"Alpha, please, I beg you!" she whispered, falling dramatically to her knees. "I feel terribly ill. I think… I think I've been poisoned with Wolfsbane."
I watched her performance, my dark eyes narrowing. I knew she was a liar and a manipulator; she had helped me kill Hector, but she was transparently trying to secure my pity and force a mating bond to cement her position as Luna.
"Wolfsbane?" I scoffed, crossing my arms. "Who in the pack would dare?"
"Helena," Daphne whispered, her voice firm with fake conviction. "She has always been jealous of my devotion to you. She hates me. She would do anything to get me out of the way before you proclaim your Luna."
I almost laughed out loud. Helena couldn't even look at me without weeping. She was terrified of me. She couldn't hurt a fly. But I needed Daphne to be the obedient, secondary female who served me, and if her little drama kept her from plotting, I'd play along.
"Dr. Lucas will check you," I stated, dismissing her fear.
Daphne's face fell, the calculated fear momentarily replaced by frustration. "No, Alpha, please! That won't work!" She crawled closer, grabbing my hands, her gaze tender and desperate. "Mate with me, Romie. Mating with an Alpha will help me heal faster! I love you! You know I've loved you since we were children!"
I instantly recoiled, yanking my hands away. The memory of my forced, brutal claim on Helena, driven by hatred and vengeance, was still too fresh, too raw. I had done my duty to revenge; I wouldn't compound the mess by giving Daphne false hope, or worse, subjecting myself to a shallow trust when my soul was still vibrating with the unwanted pull toward Helena.
"Daphne, stop," I ordered, my voice gentle but firm. "I am sorry. I can't. I will send a healer, and that is all." Her face crumpled in defeat as I left the room, the scent of her despair following me.
I headed straight for the dungeon. I needed to see Helena, to feel her proximity, to feed the toxic need to punish her. But when I arrived, the guards were in a panic. The cell was empty.
"She's gone! The slave escaped!"
My Wolf roared, not with rage, but with primal panic. I hadn't killed her to stop the revenge; I'd set her free to run from me, the man chosen by the bond. The mate is gone.
It took the rest of the night, a brutal, exhausting hunt, to track her down near the eastern borders. She was weak, dressed in rags, but walking with a strange determination.
My warriors dragged her back, and I felt a wave of cold fury…not at her attempt, but at the sheer gall of her defiance. She dared to choose freedom over me.
In the courtroom, I demanded her punishment. The silver whip was a savage tool, meant to maim and break the will of the strongest warriors. But I knew Alpha Hector used it on runaways, and I had to follow his rules to prove my legitimacy.
"Beta Raph," I turned to him, needing the formality. "What is the punishment?"
"Thirty strokes with the silver whip, Alpha." He murmured like saying I shouldn't consider such a thing on Helena.
But I didn't care. I faced Helena, who was kneeling before my throne, her beautiful, bruised eyes locked on mine. I expected her to shatter, to grovel, to finally beg for mercy. That was the point of the torture—to break her will.
"If you beg me, Helena, I might just let you go free," I offered, hoping to hear the words that would make my vengeance complete.
She got up, her eyes fixed on mine, radiating a fierce, shocking defiance that defied her weak body. "I, Helena Hector, daughter of Alpha Hector, accept your punishment, Alpha Romie."
The refusal hit me harder than any physical blow. She would rather face a brutal death than grant me the satisfaction of her surrender. This stubbornness only fueled my dark pride.
"Get a silver whip prepared, Daphne," my eyes snapped towards Daphne, my voice hard. I could see the merriment that sparkled in her eyes the moment I gave the order. "Helena would face the punishment first thing tomorrow morning. Let the pack watch her beg for her life."
I walked away, the scene of her punishment already planned in my head. I had sentenced my mate to a horrific ordeal, but the logic was simple: Her Wolf will protect her.
She will be injured, but she will live, and her defiance will be broken. I would show the pack that even the former Alpha's daughter feared me.
*****
The next morning, I watched from my throne, Daphne nervously standing beside me with a sickening smile. The lashing began. The pack was silent.
At the third lash, Helena bled from her mouth. At the fifth, she was barely conscious. At the seventh, she collapsed.
Seven. My Wolf howled in disbelief. Even the weakest wolf could take ten.
"Stop the whipping!" I roared, leaping from my throne. My mind raced, trying to process the impossibility of her collapse
.
Then, Raph's mate, Ava, stumbled into the courtroom, her gunshot wound still bandaged, her voice weak but frantic. "Please, my Lord. Spare Helena. She… Helena has no Wolf!"
The words were a physical punch to the gut. Wolf-less. The silver was lethal to the Wolf-less. I had not been torturing a defiant mate; I had been executing an unarmed girl. But…. How did she keep it a secret all these while.
My cold, calculated revenge had become a blind, savage murder.
I rushed to her, scooping her lifeless body into my arms. Her skin was already cold. My wolf screamed a soundless, primal wail of agony and regret.
"Call Doctor Justin immediately!" I roared to Raph, fleeing the courtroom.
In the infirmary, I paced while the doctor examined her. I couldn't breathe.
If she dies, the vengeance means nothing. If she dies, I am truly alone. If she dies, then I killed my own mate.
Dr. Justin turned to me, his face grim.
My heart drummed loudly, I could swear someone beside me could hear it.
Dr. Justin finally declared. "I'm afraid she didn't survive it, Alpha. Helena's dead."
My world dissolved into crushing darkness.