A growl rips from my throat, low and dark. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She opens her mouth — probably to argue — but I cut her off before she can chip away at my last thread of sanity.
“I’m the King of Alphas. The ruler of all shifters.” I take a step closer, voice dipping. “You’re a shifter. Ergo, you follow my command. And I command that you stay right here.”
Her eyes bulge. Her mouth falls open.
I take another step forward, towering over her. She barely reaches my shoulder. She has to tilt her head all the way back to look at me. She tries to retreat, to put space between us — but I stop her with a hand curling behind her neck. Not tight. But enough to grab her full attention and make her listen.
“I’m going to figure out what the fuck happened to our bond,” I say, each word laced with steel. “And I’m going to win you back. No matter what it takes.”
Fire ignites in her gaze. She steps into me, fury pouring off her in waves.
“You’re insane,” she snaps. “Whatever magic's tangled in you probably took your sanity with it. I will never accept you as my mate again. Never!”
Her eyes narrow to slits, voice like venom.
“I seem to recall you saying that even if you had a mate, it wouldn’t be someone as pathetic as me. That I was too weak for someone like you. Worthless. Well guess what, Your Majesty — take those words and shove them so far up your royal ass they never come out!”
I chuckle — low, broken.
“I would never have rejected my mate,” I say, softer now. “You could’ve been human. Magicless. Anything. And I still would’ve wanted you. You think I didn’t bleed when the Priestess looked into my soul and told me there was nothing there? That I was destined to be alone? You think I didn’t carry that wound with me every day?”
I shake my head, voice rough. “The night in the ballroom... I was angry. I said those things to hurt you. Because I thought you were trying to hurt me, to slice into that wound even further. I couldn’t feel the bond. I didn’t know. If I had...”
I swallow.
“If I had, I would have dropped to my knees.”
She doesn’t soften.
“It doesn’t matter now,” she says, her voice final. “I don’t feel the bond anymore. It’s gone.”
Her gaze locks with mine.
“I’m not your mate anymore.”
“I’m not giving up,” I tell her, voice firm. “And you’re not going anywhere. I’ll fix this.”
She huffs, annoyed as hell.
“I may not be able to defy the King’s command,” she snaps, “but I can set my own conditions.”
Her eyes narrow into slits.
“Can’t I,Your Majesty?”
“You can,” I bite back, “if you stop calling me that. My name is Draven.”
She smiles — slow, sugar-sweet. And full of venom. “I prefer your title. It would make me happy to keep using it.”
Fuck, she’s good at this. No shifter can resist pleasing their mate. Especially a lycan.
The word grinds out of me before I can stop it. “Fine.”
Her smile stretches. Victory in lace.
“Good. Now take your hand off me. I don’t like it.”
