Chapter 61 Burdened By My Wolf
Adrian’s POV
Morning light leaked through the narrow slit high in the dungeon wall, thin and gray, like it was afraid to touch me. Another third night survived. Barely.
I slumped against the cold stone, chains heavy on my wrists and ankles, the metal links coated in that thick silver-wolfsbane paste the alchemists from the human town brewed…thick enough to burn Derek into a drugged haze, dulling his claws, muting his roars. It worked. Most months. But never perfectly. My shoulders ached from hours of straining against them, my throat raw from snarls I couldn’t hold back.
How much longer could we keep doing this?
Thomas and I had chased answers across kingdoms. Thousands of sorceresses, healers, shamans…even Sheila who lived in the mist-shrouded mountains and spoke only in riddles. Every single one said the same damn thing: they couldn’t undo what the Moon Goddess herself had woven into my blood.
Why me? Why this?
I wasn’t born broken. Derek and I had been normal once…strong, yes, but sane. Then, a few years ago, something snapped. He started waking up feral, blood-hungry, uncontrollable every third night.
Thomas swears it’s punishment for that bloody day I lost control and slaughtered half our own warriors in a blind rage. But I’ve paid for that. I’ve bled for it.
I’ve spent years making atonements…offerings at every temple, rebuilding the families I shattered. So why does the Goddess still curse me with a wolf that wants to tear the world apart?
Sometimes I wish Derek would just sleep forever and only wake when I called him for battle. He’s caused more ruin than any wolf in pack history. No ancestor on the throne ever had a beast like him…half demon, half nightmare.
The key rattled in the lock, cutting through the silence like a blade.
Thomas stepped in, eyes sweeping the room…taking in the fresh claw gouges in the stone, the shredded remnants of my shirt, the sweat-soaked mess that was me, chained like some rabid animal.
“Your Majesty,” he said, voice light, trying to mask the pity. “You made it through another one.”
“We go again next month,” I muttered, voice gravel.
He knelt to unlock the leg chains first, fingers quick and steady. Then he stood, key dangling, and paused…way too long…staring at me with this stupid, mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What are you waiting for?” I growled. “Take these chains off my hands, Thomas.”
He smirked. “Call me what you will, Alpha…but doesn’t this whole scene give off any vibe? You know…locked up, sweaty, chains…a little BDSM fantasy?”
“Thomas,” I warned, low and deadly. “Do you really want to die today?”
He laughed under his breath. “Not exactly. I just feel…out of place, Your Majesty.” He leaned in dramatically. “Especially today. Most she-wolves are hitting their heat cycles. The whole palace reeks of it. Mates everywhere, going at it like the world ends tomorrow. And here I am, single, surrounded by all that delicious scent, with no one to—”
I tugged hard against the chains, the silver paste sizzling against my skin. “Just take one more step closer, Beta, and I’ll give you the nosebleed you’ve been begging for.”
He kept going, oblivious or just suicidal. “—satisfy the urge. The Moon Goddess really has it out for me, doesn’t she? I pity whoever my mate turns out to be, because we will be at it for days on end…”
Heat.
The word slammed into me like a war hammer.
Kira.
My mate…out there alone, missing for hours. If her heat started…if those rogue bastards who took her…
No. I can’t think like that.
Derek surged up from the drugged fog, snarling, claws itching under my skin.
‘We have to go. NOW. Her heat might be starting. They’ll smell it. They’ll touch her…’
Ice flooded my veins. If any of them laid a finger on her, I’d burn the forest down and salt the earth. I’d kill every last one…slowly.
“Thomas,” I said, voice flat and cold enough to freeze blood. “Let. Me. Out.”
He blinked, finally catching the shift. The joking died on his face. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. The men are ready.”
He moved fast after that, unlocking my wrists. The chains clattered to the floor, and I was on my feet, shoving past him.
We marched down the dimly lit corridor, past rows of empty cells…until we reached the last one.
“You’re still chased by those demons, huh?” a raspy voice slithered out from the darkness.
I stopped dead. Hatred boiled up so fast my vision tunneled.
The most notorious criminal in our history sat chained in the far corner…long gray hair and beard matted, eyes gleaming with pure malice. The bastard who’d orchestrated the rebellion years ago.
The one whose lies and propaganda led the attack that killed my mother and drove my father insane. The same night I was forced onto the throne, covered in blood, barely more than a boy.
“It’s good to have His Majesty’s company every third night,” he mocked, voice dripping venom. “Guess you’re just another prisoner down here after all.”
I took a step toward the bars, fists clenched, ready to rip them apart with my bare hands.
Thomas stepped in front of me, blocking the way. “Your Majesty, we don’t have time. I’ll send the guards in to…entertain him.”
I growled, low and furious, catching one last glimpse of that monster’s smirk before I turned away. Killing him will be an act of mercy. He’d rot in here forever. Never see sunlight again. That was mercy compared to what he deserved.
Thomas was already mind-linking the torture detail as we climbed the stairs.
“Let’s go,” I snarled.
“Your Majesty,” Thomas said, pinching his nose dramatically. “With all due respect…you should shower. You smell like a night of wrestling demons. And when we find the princess, you don’t want her first hug to send her running again, do you?”
I shot him a glare hot enough to melt steel, but he wasn’t wrong. I reeked of sweat, fury, and wolfsbane.
“Get every man in the courtyard. We leave in ten.”
I stormed to our wing…mine and Kira’s…bursting into the chamber. Her scent hit me like a punch to the chest…soft vanilla and wildflowers, lingering on the sheets, the pillows, everywhere. It clawed at my heart. I couldn’t linger. Quick shower, cold water to shock the remnants of Derek back down, fresh clothes…black shirt, boots. Ready for war.
I was out the door in minutes, striding through the palace halls, wolves bowing as I passed, the search party already assembling outside.
I rounded the final corner toward the main entrance— And someone stepped directly into my path, blocking it completely.
King Ariston planted himself square in my path, arms crossed, chin high, flanked by two of his elite royal guards.
“Your Majesty,” he said, voice low and calculative. “Please, I demand an audience. Now.”
I didn’t break stride. “Not now, Ariston. Move.”
He didn’t. “It is precisely now. My family and I are being held in this palace against our will. I am still a king, your majesty, not some ornament you keep on a shelf for you and my daughter's amusement. I need to go back to my kingdom.”
Derek bristled under my skin with irritation for the obstruction, a warning growl vibrating deep in my chest, loud enough that Ariston and his guards shifted their weight immediately.
“I told you to stay put,” I said, stepping in close, voice lethal and quiet. “You don’t leave until my mate tells me herself that you’re free to go. That hasn’t changed.”
I moved to push past him. But his next words stopped me dead, my blood turning to ice in my veins.