135

Dickson 

“Scar needed a luxurious life if I wanted her to stay beside me. She would truly love me if I could make her happy.” The thought consumed me.

I stood up to my feet, about to leave, when someone called for my attention, pulling me back from my swirling thoughts.

“King, we saw you coming in with a woman. Who is she?” Curiosity and something darker—hunger?—laced the question.

“My mate, your queen, and she is off-limits.” My voice carried a warning that silenced the room, the threat in my tone obvious.

With this, I left, their whispers fading behind me like smoke.

I went back into the room where she was being kept, the room we would be sharing together as a couple.

My heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, causing my hands to tremble as I walked down the corridor.

I could still hear her screams as I approached. My hand was on the door handle when I quickly mind-linked my beta.

“Henry, bring some food for the queen.”

“Understood, sir.”

I opened the door to enter, and it was as if she had been expecting me. Scar attacked me immediately as I stepped inside, fury blazing in her eyes, eyes I had dreamed would look at me with love, not loathing.

“You—”

She lunged forward, and pain exploded in my side. Shock and betrayal flooded me, even though a part of me had expected resistance.

Never this—never such raw, violent rejection. She stabbed me with a knife. Where the heck did the knife come from?

“Good for you. You’re still breathing,” she sneered, her beautiful face transformed by hatred, lips curled back in a feral snarl. “Time to finish you. Goodbye Dickson.”

She raised the knife to stab me again, but I quickly dodged, grabbing her wrist and forcing her to drop it.

I twisted her arm behind her back, making her cry out in pain. This was my mate, fighting against me with every fiber of her being. She wanted me dead.

“I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized, my voice softening with genuine remorse. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You did!” she cried, tears of fury and pain welling in her eyes. “You wanted to get rid of me!”

“What are you talking about, love? I am not! I love you, Scar. Believe me.” The words tumbled out. It was as if I was possessed. This wasn’t the past me. In front of her, I was nothing like my old self; the ruthless Alpha melting away before this woman.

She scoffed, her eyes darting to the weapon on the floor, intending to take the knife from the floor again.

“Do you hate me this much?” I whispered, trying to gain her pity. The mighty king reduced to begging.

“Yes! I will do anything to get rid of you. You being out of my way will make my dreams come true.”

“You mean becoming a mistress? You still want to be a mere mistress when you can stay beside me and enjoy being treated like a queen?” I spoke with scorn and hurt in my voice, feeling wounded pride at her rejection.

“You can never offer me what I want,” she said. “Not in this life or our next life. Give up. I am way out of your league.”

“Why are you forcing my hand, Scar? Why are you choosing to hurt me?” Something broken and raw leaked into my voice, a pain so unfamiliar I hardly recognized it as my own.

“Because you are a loser. A piece of trash. I didn’t want you, and I am damn sure your second-chance mate wouldn’t tolerate you either. She would reject you as well,” she spat, each word a burning barb. “Why force the mate bond on me when I hate you? Deep in my bones.”

I guess nothing could be done. I could never keep this woman beside me. The look in her eyes; the disapproving look, reminded me of that loser of a wife, Scarlett. I knew that look so well, and I knew nothing could change her mind.

“If I had known, I would have exchanged you,” I began, clenching my teeth together. My wolf whimpered as I spoke, rebelling against my words. “By now, I could have warriors at my command.”

These words weren’t true. I was already head over heels in love with her, captured by a bond I never expected to feel.

“By now, I could have already marched toward the Crescent Pack to regain my honor, but look at me... Fighting for a woman who despises me.” The admission hung in the air between us, naked and weak.

She scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “It isn’t too late. You can still return me.”

“Never again in this life. I will never bow my head before that acting Alpha,” I snapped, rage flaring hot and sudden. “Even if you die, I will never let you go. Your corpse will belong to me, even in death.”

“You—” She attacked me again. This time, I fought back, instinct overriding reason. Scar shivered as I grabbed her neck, her pulse fluttering wildly beneath my fingers.

“Guess you didn’t hear about me when I was still ruling,” I mocked, darkness seeping into my voice. “I wasn’t a good guy, honey. I won’t hesitate to break your legs if you dare bring this up again.”

I let her go when I heard a knock on the door. Scar fell with a loud thud, gasping for air. She held her neck as she began coughing, her body curling protectively inward.

I walked to the door and opened it slightly, positioning myself to block any view of her. “Who?”

“My king, the queen’s food is here,” Henry answered, showing me the tray of food, his eyes carefully avoiding looking past me into the room.

“Okay. Thank you.” I received the food from him before shutting the door and walking back to where Scar was, still on the floor, coughing her lungs out. The sight twisted something inside me—regret.

“W—what do you want?” Scar asked, moving back. The sight should have pleased me, but it only hollowed me out further.

“I’m sorry.” My voice came out soft. I bent in front of her. “Come and eat, mate.”

“No. Take that trash away from me. I am human; I can’t bear to eat that.” Even terrified, her pride remained intact.

“Hehehe.” I laughed, the sound empty and cold. “A wolf claiming to be human. What a joke.” I rose to my feet, towering over her. “I won’t repeat myself again, darling.”

Scar immediately stood up, her movements jerky with fear. She took her seat on the torn bed, her shaking hands grabbing the bowl of food before she dug in. I watched as she started eating.

I think threatening her made her become a gentle girl.

I chuckled, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. If threats were the answer to all my problems, I was willing to use them on her. She would never be able to escape me in this lifetime.