Chapter 3
Hughes Pov
The stone walls of the interrogation room were damp, but I barely felt the cold. I was still reeling from the look in Rhian's eyes. Fated mates. The universe had a sick sense of humor. It had tied my soul to a man who was now a psychopathic Alpha, a man covered in tattoos and ink that told stories of the blood he'd spilled, only to have me sold to his greatest enemy.
I sat huddled in a chair while the Pack Council argued in the shadows. They didn't even treat me like a person. I was a problem to be solved.
"He's in his feral year, Hughes," one of the Elders, a withered wolf named Calista, rasped. "If the girl is his fated mate, he will burn this entire territory to get to her. You know how a Lycan gets when the moon calls to his beast. He'll go completely feral in months if he doesn't claim her."
Hughes was standing at the edge of the light, his jaw tight. "Let him try. I have five hundred Enforcers. He's one man."
"He's not just a man, he's a King in the South," Calista countered. "But there is a way to break the bond before it fully takes root. If you claim her as a breeder, not a Luna, you humiliate him. You turn his fated miracle into a common pack vessel. Once she's carrying your seed, the bond with Rhian will sour. He won't want her if she's polluted by your bloodline."
The word "breeder" felt like a physical slap. My stomach lurched. I looked at Hughes, praying for a spark of humanity, but his eyes were like flint.
"A breeder," Hughes mused, the word rolling off his tongue with a dark satisfaction. "To take the Santosh princess and turn her into nothing more than a womb for the Blackwood Pack. It would kill Rhian's pride."
"It would destroy him," Calista agreed.
"Get her out of here," Hughes commanded, not even looking at me. "Lock her in the West Wing. I'll make my decision by nightfall."
The West Wing was a prison. It was more luxurious than the dungeon, but the bars on the windows were the same. I spent hours pacing the floor, my mind racing. Rhian was here. My childhood friend, the boy who used to bring me wildflowers before our packs went to war, was now a monster in his own right.
I heard the lock click. I expected Hughes, but when the door opened, a massive, tattooed figure slipped inside.
Rhian.
He moved like a shadow, his presence filling the room until I felt like I couldn't breathe. He looked different up close. His skin was a canvas of black ink, and his eyes were swirling with that dangerous, feral gold.
"Kiel," he breathed. His voice was like velvet over gravel.
"You shouldn't be here, Rhian," I whispered, backing into the bedpost. "Hughes will kill you."
"Let him try," Rhian said, his lip curling into a mocking smile. He stepped closer, his scent hitting me like a tidal wave. It was overwhelming. It was home. "I've spent ten years looking for you. I didn't become the King of the South just to let a pathetic Alpha like Hughes keep what is mine."
"I'm not yours," I said, though my wolf was howling, begging me to touch him. "I'm married to him. I bear his mark."
Rhian's hand shot out, his fingers tracing the faint scar on my neck. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through my entire body. "This? This is a scratch. It's an insult to the moon. I can smell your fear, Kiel. I can also smell that you haven't been claimed. Not truly."
He leaned in, his nose brushing against my ear. "Come with me. I have a jet waiting at the border. I'll tear this pack apart to get you out."
"He has my brothers," I choked out. "He'll kill them the moment I'm gone."
Rhian's eyes darkened, the gold turning to a deep, bloody amber. "Then I'll kill him first. I'll take his head and place it at your feet."
"How romantic," a cold voice interrupted.
We both snapped our heads toward the door. Hughes was standing there, his arms crossed, leaning against the frame with a look of bored malice. But his scent was anything but bored. He smelled of pure, unadulterated territorial rage.
"Rhian, I expected better from a King," Hughes said, stepping into the room. "Slinking into a woman's bedroom like a thief in the night."
"I'm taking what belongs to me," Rhian growled, his body shifting, his muscles rippling under his tattoos.
"She belongs to the debt," Hughes countered. He walked over to me, his hand roughly grabbing my arm and pulling me away from Rhian. "And since you're so interested in her welfare, I've decided to take the Council's advice."
He looked at me, his eyes devoid of any mercy. "I was going to wait. I was going to let you rot in a cell until you learned your place. But it seems you need a more permanent reminder of who your master is."
Hughes turned his gaze to the hallway. "Dr. Aris! Get the kit ready."
A thin, middle aged man with a medical bag stepped into view. The pack healer. In his hand, he held a silver tray with a syringe and a vial of dark liquid.
"What is that?" I asked, my voice rising in panic.
"Wolfsbane extract and a fertility stimulant," Hughes said calmly. "It will keep your wolf quiet so you can't shift, but it will make your body... receptive. Since my rival here is so obsessed with you, I want him to watch the beginning of the breeding cycle."
Rhian roared, a sound that shook the very foundation of the house. He lunged at Hughes, but four Enforcers rushed in from the hall, throwing silver tipped chains around Rhian's neck and torso. He fought like a demon, his claws tearing through their uniforms, but the silver began to burn his skin, weakening him.
"You coward!" Rhian screamed, his face hitting the floor as the guards pinned him down. "If you touch her, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth!"
"You'll hunt me from a cage," Hughes said. He looked at the doctor. "Prepare the bed. Strip her."
"Hughes, no!" I screamed, struggling against him. "Please, don't do this! Don't make me a breeder!"
"You should have thought about that before you let another Alpha touch your skin," Hughes hissed. He threw me onto the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight.
The doctor approached with the needle. I looked at Rhian, who was bleeding on the floor, his eyes filled with a desperate, helpless agony. For the first time, I saw the true monster in Hughes. It wasn't the man who wanted revenge. It was the man who enjoyed the cruelty.
The doctor grabbed my arm, the cold tip of the needle pressing against my vein.
"Wait," Hughes said suddenly.
The doctor stopped. Hughes walked over to the bed and looked down at me. He reached out, his thumb dragging across my lower lip. For a second, the room was deathly quiet.
"I changed my mind," Hughes whispered,
loud enough for Rhian to hear. "I don't want the stimulant. I want her to feel every second of this without the drugs. I want her to know exactly who is siring the heir that will replace her family's name."