Chapter 49 - My Omega Queen

POV: Zain

Packs have become a joke, and my encounter with the King has only served to confirm it.

Nowadays, all werewolf pups are promoted to pack warriors for doing as much as killing a wandering squirrel, then they walk around flaunting their title just in the hopes of banging someone that night. It makes me sick just thinking about it.

Even the Lycan King himself seems to be in a rougher shape than even he would be willing to admit. I can only assume that his age is catching up to him. After all, no wolf, no matter his lineage or rank, is immune to the passing of time.

If Timber, my wolf, had truly wished to hurt him, he could have inflicted much more damage than he already did. But how could we hurt our mate’s kin?

I must admit that I had a suspicion about it when we first kidnapped her. I was supposed to guard the entrance to the alleyway in case she somehow made a run for it, but then I felt her sweet smell of rich vanilla. Timber instantly perked up and followed the intriguing aroma, yet it vanished suddenly in thin air. It coincided with the moment that the princess was sedated, so the two of us just kept our suspicions to ourselves. There was no way to be sure until there was eye contact between our wolves, and the princess had just been heavily drugged.

Bummer.

All I could do next was to make sure that she would be as comfortable as possible for a prisoner and that no harm would befall her. Hence, I ordered Ava, the only person I trusted around the princess, to make sure she was well-fed and kept in a clean tent. There was some gossip and commotion about it, yet I chose to ignore it.

But then… I saw her in the woods. I was just returning from a patrol when I stumbled upon the most unexpected situation that I could think of. My own prisoner wandering our forest randomly. How could a wolfless person escape the guarded tent of my encampment? Someone definitely had to take responsibility for this.

Timber and I watched her for a moment as she clearly ran aimlessly, with no wolf abilities to help guide her through the unfamiliar woods. A howl echoed throughout the forest coming from our encampment, announcing the escape of the princess in front of me. She heard it and utter panic was etched on her face as her brows knitted and her breathing stopped.

It was almost amusing until it made her clumsily fall into a huge pile of leaves and causing her to hurt her knee.

For some reason, Timber got riled up over this, especially since she had no wolf to heal the wound. I felt myself growing angry at whoever howled so loudly and my aura unwillingly expanded, scaring away the forest animals.

Once again, she raced frantically, only to come to an abrupt stop. Her ears perked, a trait to be expected from the King's daughter; she had noticed the eerie silence.

Every little thing that followed our meeting was only proof after proof of our unconfirmed bond. Timber fought to mark her every step of the way even without her wolf waking up, not willing to delay it any longer, but I managed to control him.

My wolf and I have a strong connection and are usually on the same page, but I must admit that this turn of events was not necessarily according to the initial plan. Actually, to be blunt, it kind of f*cked it up completely.

The princess was supposed to be our revenge —a culmination of years of waiting for this very chance.

Yet now, I must think of something else while I’m waiting for my crew to come and get me out of here. Timber would never bring harm to her now, nor to anyone else connected to her, unless their actions posed a threat to her well-being.

I rattle my chains out of frustration and a tsk escapes me.

“Be quiet over there!” one of the guards to my cage hisses back and the others just turn to steal glances at me. Of course, the King couldn’t afford to let such a highly valuable catch escape, so he chose to assign five people to guard a two-square meter cage.

This whole situation was amusing, to say the least. I couldn’t contain a chuckle escaping my lips.

Another guard turns toward me, “What are you laughing about, prisoner?! Silence, or I’m gonna-“

“Gonna what?” I mockingly interrupt, “go against orders and beat the King’s daughter’s mate?” Swiftly, my tone shifts, brimming with authority, “Perhaps you should be more careful when addressing the prince consort.”

Even though the dungeon is dark, I could still see a red flush covering the guard’s face. Even his fists were clenching and unclenching continuously. Out of anger, for sure.

Just as I thought he was truly going to open the gate and punch me, another guard places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, offering solace, "Don't let him get under your skin, mate. Have some patience. A maid from the Alpha house mentioned that the King has a plan. Tomorrow night, we'll have our way with the prisoner."

My smile abruptly vanishes into nothingness, vanishing faster than the speed of thunder crashing down. A bead of sweat trails down my forehead, and I attempt to convince myself it's merely a response to the stifling heat within this confined space.

"He has a plan?" queries the red-faced guard, his expression a mixture of confusion and skepticism. "What sort of plan could possibly intervene in a mate bond?"

I feigned ignorance, though my ears were perked up. The other guard explained as all the others came to listen in, “Yea, my friend overheard little master Jason bragging about how the King gave his blessing for him and the princess to force a mate bond.” Then he spoke with incredibly high pride, “He is going to ascend the throne with the princess.”

I needed a moment to process what I’d heard before I felt my muscles tense up. From the way they spoke, it seemed that this so-called Jason was this pack’s Alpha’s son. And he planned to mark my mate forcefully.

Over my dead body, probably. Because I’ll die before I let that happen. I couldn’t care less about who he is, or whose blessing he has.

My mate is mine, and mine alone.

Yet, a nagging question lingered—did Grace consent to this arrangement willingly? A twinge of hurt radiated from my chest, but I pushed it aside. Dwelling on it served no purpose; I would ask her myself.

Almost as if on cue, a metallic sound reverberated from the stairs descending to my cage. It clinked with each rocky step, the uneven terrain causing it to bump, accompanied by a chilling hiss that sliced through the air.

All the guards pivoted their heads toward the origin of the sound, exchanging bewildered glances.

A smile crept onto my lips as I recognized the familiar muffled thud of a wolfsbane gas bomb. One of the guards attempted to raise an alarm among the others, but their response was too sluggish. I reveled in the satisfaction of witnessing realization dawning on their faces just as the bomb reached the tip of one guard's boot, rendering them all unconscious mere seconds later.

Of course, this is one of our escape strategies, so I knew that I had to hold my breath. Lyra, Alaric, and Ava soon came down the stairs with gas masks covering their faces. They retrieved the keys to my cell from one of the guards and quickly put a gas mask on my face before starting to work on my cuffs.

As I said, packs have become a joke. Wolfsbane gas bombs have been around for a while now, yet most packs are still not prepared to face such a threat. These weapons are especially efficient in confined spaces like dungeons, that have no doors, windows, or escape routes.

Rogues, on another hand, are born and forged in battle. We have faced threats and needed to learn to adapt from the moment we were born. We may not be a pack, but we are much more inclined to survive than them.

Once the silver cuffs hit the ground with a thud, I motion with my head toward the exit and we start moving. We pass by unconscious guards and prisoners alike. Since it is the Yearly Mating Season party, the dungeon is packed, as expected.

Upon reaching the exit, Lyra verified the safety outside before signaling us. Luckily, it seems that it’s still dark outside, meaning that most werewolves are asleep. Also, it would still not be weird for rogues to be inside the pack territory due to the ongoing event, all of which help us seamlessly make our way outside.

However, not long after, I feel Timber slowly waking up inside of my mind.

And the faint smell of vanilla getting close.

Very close.