Kael
Ten hours in chains.
That's how long it took before I could wrestle control back from my beast. Ten hours of fighting against the primal rage that consumed me the moment I shifted in that auction house. The curse made sure that violence fed the beast, made him stronger, harder to contain. And once he tasted blood in that form, getting him back under control was like trying to cage a wildfire.
My wrists still bore the angry red welts that'd heal within the hour but reminded me how close I'd come to losing myself completely.
Even now, hours after the chains came off, I could feel him prowling just beneath my skin. Restless. Hungry. Fighting for control with every breath I took.
This was why the castle stayed so empty and silent. Why servants knew to disappear after I returned from any fight. They'd learned long ago that in the hours after violence, I was more beast than man, and getting too close meant death.
But even the lingering bloodlust, even the beast's constant pressure, couldn't distract me from her.
I'd brought them here. The omega and her child.
My hand clenched into a fist. What the hell had I been thinking? She was a rogue omega with a fresh severing scar on her throat. By pack law, she should be executed on sight. She was a threat to everything I'd built over decades. The council would tear me apart for this. I could already hear them snarling.
But it wasn't the council that made my beast pace so hard, that made him push against my control like he was trying to claw his way out.
It was her and that fucking scent.
Wildflowers and honey. Sweet and pure, cutting through even the blood that still clung to me. Rogues didn't have scents like that, they smelled of rot. But this one was different and it was driving me toward madness in a way three centuries of the curse never had.
And those eyes. In five centuries of living, I'd seen every eye color imaginable. But something about those green eyes haunted me in ways I couldn't explain. Every time I reached for why they felt so damn familiar, the thought slipped away like smoke.
Her scent was everywhere. Even my study reeked of it, though she had never set foot in here.
I stopped pacing and slammed my hands on the desk. My claws extended on their own, gouging fresh marks into the already scarred wood. I could see her face perfectly, like she was standing right in front of me. Those wide green eyes staring up at me from that corner of the auction house, filled with terror as I stood over her covered in blood.
For the first time in years, I'd lost complete control of my beast. I don't lose control. I couldn't lose control.
A knock at the door yanked me back. I straightened, as Silas walked into the room. I could still feel the beast on the surface so I knew I had to be more careful with my interactions.
"I didn't tell you to enter," I said, my voice coming out rougher than I wanted, still carrying the beast's growl.
"Forgive me, Your Grace." Silas bowed but kept walking with his usual calm, though I noticed how his eyes tracked my movements, checking my control. "I thought you'd want this report immediately."
"The traffickers have been dealt with," he cleared his throat before he continued. "We lost several in the raid, and many patrons escaped. All the captive women have been released and sent to nearby tribes with notes of protection." He paused. "We kept five traffickers alive. They're in the dungeon waiting for your questioning."
I hummed in satisfaction.
He paused, his gaze shifting to the fresh claw marks on the table, "As for the women they are currently housed in the servants' quarters," Silas continued, pulling a folded document from his jacket. "I've sent memos to the Alphas of the neighboring tribes, explaining the situation and requesting their consideration for integration. Several have already responded with interest."
I leaned back against the desk, crossing my arms. "How many?"
"Two so far, Your Grace. The others are still deliberating." He paused, his expression thoughtful. "I've scheduled meetings with all interested parties for the next two weeks. Hopefully, we'll receive more positive responses before then."
I nodded, sighing heavily as I leaned back in my seat. "There's another concern, Your Grace." Silas said and I fought the urge to groan.
"What is it Silas?" I rubbed my eyes as I spoke.
"The omega. Dionne." The beast stirred at the mention of her name, pressing against my control with renewed interest. I forced it back down, maintaining my neutral expression even as something dark and possessive coiled in my chest.
"And her child, Nora. I doubt we'll find an Alpha willing to accept them into his pack. We've had to separate her from the rest of the women, because we're not sure or volatile or dangerous she'll be. With any hope, she's safe enough, but…" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.
"Most territories have strict policies against integrating rogues, particularly those with fresh severing marks. The liability is considered too great. No Alpha wants to risk the instability that rogues can bring, especially one with a rogue child to complicate matters further."
"If that situation arises, they can remain here," I said, keeping my voice level and
Silas's eyes widened slightly. "Your Grace, I must advise against that. Having a rogue omega permanently housed in the castle would set a dangerous precedent. The council would never accept it. Not to mention the security concerns of keeping someone so unpredictable in close proximity to—"
"Are those your only objections?" I interrupted, my tone going cold.
"Your Grace, she doesn't belong here. She—"
"Would you send Violet to the tribes too? By your logic, she also doesn't belong here."
Silas's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with something raw and wounded before his expression shuttered completely. I knew this was a sensitive topic for him, but I couldn't bring myself to care at the moment. I was spent, and I wanted this conversation to be done.
I watched the muscle in his jaw work as he visibly struggled to maintain his composure. "You know it's different," he said finally, his voice tight. "Violet is not a rogue. She's—"
"A slave. She's a slave, Silas. Same as the mother and child."
He flinched as though I'd struck him physically. His hands curled into fists at his sides.
"This conversation is over."
Silas looked like he had something else to say, but he seemed to think against it. He gave a stiff bow before he turned around and left the room.
Once his footsteps faded, I turned back to the fireplace.
Slave. That's all she's going to be here. That should've been the end of it. So why couldn't I stop thinking about her? Why did that scent keep haunting every breath I took?
After Silas left, silence pressed in from all sides.
I sat behind my desk and pulled the nearest document from the stack. Maybe paperwork would bore me enough to forget about this scent and finally let me sleep.
A petition from the Northern Border Patrol. Something about timber and shipment delays.
The letters blurred together. I blinked and tried reading the first line again. Then a third time. The words made no sense.
Damn it.
I shoved the paperwork aside with a snarl. It was that cursed scent. It pounded in my skull like a drum. I couldn't focus on anything else.
My jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. That omega had branded herself into my mind. I couldn't think, couldn't breathe without that cloying sweetness filling my lungs.
I shoved back from the desk, the chair scraping harsh against stone.
This was beyond tolerance. I needed control back. I needed something to ground me and quiet the beast still prowling so close to the surface.
Blood usually did the trick and I knew exactly where to find it.
The dungeon air was bone-deep cold. The kind of cold that settled into your marrow and stayed there.
I welcomed it. I needed it to freeze the chaos still raging through my blood, to cool the beast's hunger.
The guards snapped to attention as my boots echoed on stone. Of all the places in my fortress, the dungeon was my favorite. Here, violence had purpose. Here, the beast could feed without consequence.
Five prisoners sat in separate cells. Silas had already done a pretty good job on them and my beast stirred with satisfaction, pushing harder against my control. Finally, something we could tear into without guilt. Something that might sate the hunger still burning through me.
I stopped at the first cell. The stench of sweat and filth hit me hard. The keys clanked and the lock groaned as I turned it open.
The man inside looked like a brute with a piggish face. Dried blood caked his temple from earlier, but I didn't waste time with questions yet.
My hand shot out and grabbed his collar. I dragged him from the cell and slammed him against the damp wall. Before he could process it, I let my claws extend and sink into his side.
His scream was pure agony, echoing beautifully through the stone.
"Where did you get them?" My voice was low, but the man before me began to quiver the moment I spoke.
"I don't know," he sobbed. "We were just paid to move them. I swear."
I raked my claws across his stomach. Not deep enough to kill right away, just enough to draw blood in steady streams. He screamed higher, more desperate. I asked again, but got the same useless answer.
I snapped his neck clean, then lowered my mouth to the still-warm wounds. The blood was bitter with fear, but it fed the beast. My control strengthened as I drank, the hunger backing off slightly.
The second prisoner tried to bite off his own tongue when I dragged him out, but I pried his jaw open and kept working until I knew he was worthless too.
I moved to the third. He babbled about buyers in the Black Sands, but his words meant nothing useful.
With each one, I let my fury spill while feeding the beast what he demanded. The blood helped. It always did. The curse's grip loosened with each life taken, each drop consumed.
But none of them told me what I needed to hear. None had information worth anything.
Until the last one.
He was different. Scrawny, didn't have the build like the rest of them. His skin was pale, almost see-through, and his pupils were way too wide, swallowing everything until only black remained. Something was wrong about him.
The moment I got close to his cell, he grinned. Yellow teeth flashed in the dim light.
"You're too late," he rasped, his voice too deep for his thin body.
I backhanded him hard. The crack echoed sharp through the cell.
"Too late for what?"
He spat blood on the floor, still grinning.
"She's already inside," he muttered. "You let her in. You brought her here yourself."
Cold dread cut through the bloodlust. I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
"Who?" I snarled, getting in his face. "What're you talking about?"
He started laughing. A dry, sick sound that irritated me even more.
"The little wolf," he whispered. "She's the key."
My heart slammed once against my ribs.
"What key?"
His smile widened impossibly. "You brought the key right into your kingdom. And she'll destroy everything. She'll burn it all down from the inside out. This—"
I drove my claws into his chest. The wet tearing barely registered as I ripped out his heart and threw his body against the far wall. It hit with a crunch and slid down, leaving a dark smear.
But his blood, when I tasted it, was wrong. Tainted with something bitter and toxic that made even the beast pull back in disgust. Whatever he'd been, he wasn't a trafficker.
I stood there for several moments, chest heaving. Blood dripped from my claws and stained my mouth. As I stared at the dead eyes, I finally saw how young he really was. Barely more than a kid.
So who was he? I couldn't figure out which of the rescued women he was referring to. And what'd he mean by calling her a key?
I walked slowly from the cell back into the corridor.
"Burn the bodies," I told the guards
I stepped out into the night air. The blood had helped. The beast had backed off, satisfied for now. I moved towards the fountain in the center, but the rustle of bushes behind me made me freeze. No one should be walking around the castle at this time.
Every sense went on alert. I turned just in time to catch movement at the edge of my vision. In the darkness, I saw two shapes moving along the far wall. And almost immediately that sweet scent came flooding back.
You've got to be fucking kidding me.
Did she really think she could escape this fortress?