Page 14 of The Alpha King’s Hidden Mute Mate

Then he howled.

His voice carried primal power and majesty. Deep, resonant, metallic in quality, echoing through the small chapel until my eardrums ached. This was a king's howl, full of dominance and confidence.

The howl faded. The echo remained.

By tradition, I should answer now. Meet his voice with my own howl and complete this sacred resonance. My wolf should be leaping toward him in excitement at his call.

The air was dead silent.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Nothing but the crackling candle flame.

Zane shifted back to human form, his bare torso still glowing faintly silver. He stared at me for a while, expression deepening into profound, bone-deep disappointment.

He grabbed nearby clothes and threw them on, as if he couldn't bear to look at his "defective" mate another second. Then he pulled his hand back, voice detached. "The ceremony can't proceed. Skip it."

My heart shattered completely. The shame wrapped around me like poison ivy. I knew I couldn't do it... I was broken, a freak who couldn't even manage the most basic werewolf howl. How could he ever respect me?

All the pitiful fantasies I'd harbored these past days were ground to dust in that moment.

The old priest shook his head helplessly and continued the final steps. "Then please kiss to complete the contract."

I froze.

Kiss?

I looked up at him, heart pounding. He looked down at me, something hesitant flickering in those gray-blue eyes before vanishing. He stepped closer and gripped the back of my head.

I stumbled back half a step, hands gesturing frantically. "Wait, we can't just—"

But he couldn't understand.

"Let's finish this," he said, clearly impatient. "Whatever conditions you have, state them after the ceremony."

Then he leaned down and kissed me.

At first, the kiss was rough and hurried, perfunctory as checking off a task. But one second after his lips touched mine, everything changed—an electric current surged from his body, shot through my spine, and made my knees buckle, nearly collapsing.

He felt it too. I saw his pupils contract sharply, breathing turn ragged, his grip on my hand unconsciously tightening. His face changed, no longer cold and impatient, replaced by something complex I couldn't read, mixed with intoxication and confusion.

In that instant, I felt an invisible bond between us ignite. I could feel his heartbeat, his breathing, the surging power inside him. Like two rivers finally converging, two puzzle pieces finally locking together.

The feeling was so intense I nearly cried.

He clearly hadn't expected this either. He drew a sharp breath, his hand on my head tightening instead of releasing, instinctively steadying me and himself. His lips lingered on mine longer than intended, breathing growing heavy and hot.

When we separated, both our faces burned red.

I gasped for air, chest heaving violently, mind in chaos. What just happened? That kiss—that damn kiss—why did it have such power? I felt my body trembling, heart about to jump out of my throat.

And he stood across from me, expression complicated as a spilled paint palette. He cleared his throat, looked away, and said flatly, "Fine. Ceremony's over."

Then he turned to leave.