74

74
Gianna’s POV

The cold seeped into my bones as I stumbled into the throne room, the flimsy nightgown doing little to shield me from the chill. But it was the dark presence of the king that froze me in place. His gaze, fierce and calculating, held a cruelty that seemed to seep from him like poison, and it took everything in me not to flinch.

I forced myself to stand tall, to appear unshaken. I was determined to face whatever twisted game this king had planned with my head held high. But then, an intense wave of emotion surged through our bond, drawing my eyes to my mate.

Stefano’s dark, beautiful eyes were filled with fear, and my stomach knotted. Goddess, they meant to torture me—to make him watch every moment of it. A panicked breath caught in my throat just as Stefano lurched forward, his voice a thunderous roar. “Let her go!” he bellowed, his rage unleashed as he tore through the guards, slitting the throats of two in his fury. I felt his dread, his anger, and could only watch helplessly as he fought to reach me.

The crowd’s howls filled the room as guards drew their blades, aiming deadly tips at Stefano. General Alvise yanked me close, pressing a dagger against my neck. The pain of my helplessness tore through me as Stefano, overwhelmed, staggered back with his hands raised in surrender, his gaze fixed on Alpha Matteo. “Please, don’t hurt her,” he choked out.

Matteo’s laugh was sharp, piercing. He approached me with a demonic intensity in his eyes, his lip curling in satisfaction as he faced the crowd. “For those who don’t know, General Alvise has brought us Alpha Stefano’s unmarked mate.” The crowd buzzed with excitement, their eyes shifting toward me, eager to see the spectacle unfold.

I followed a twisted giggle to the throne’s dais and felt my blood boil. Ornella—my sister by name alone—stood there, relishing the scene, her eyes flickering between Stefano and me with bloodlust. My claws extended, but Alvise’s blade bit into my skin, pulling me back to my vulnerable reality.

“Don’t hurt her!” Stefano’s voice broke through, raw with desperation.

Alvise sneered, cutting into my neck again, drawing blood. Stefano’s roar filled the room as more guards tightened their grip on him. Alpha Matteo ordered, “Tie him with wolfsbane-soaked ropes!” and I cried out, only to be met with mocking laughter.

The king’s eyes glinted as he turned to me. “Gianna Greco, the shroud wolf. A fascinating little creature, an Omega whose mate is one of the strongest Alphas on the continent.” Stefano’s resistance barely faltered, though the wolfsbane poisoned his skin, weakening him with every breath.

Matteo stepped closer, his eyes gleaming. “So, you feel his pain through the bond?” His cold laugh echoed. “I wonder if he’ll feel yours, too.”

“Don’t you dare!” Stefano roared, struggling against his bonds.

Alvise jerked me toward him, delighting in Stefano’s helplessness. I could feel the fury rising within us both, an unspoken vow to destroy every creature in this room.

“Get her to her knees,” Matteo commanded.

Hands shoved me down, and the marble chilled my knees as my nightgown was ripped, exposing my back to the crowd’s hungry stares. Disgust twisted my insides, and I bared my teeth, defiant even in my helplessness. Stefano’s wild growl shattered the air, but the wolfsbane held him back, even as he tore at his bonds in agony.

Matteo’s claws extended, glinting in the light. “Do you know, Stefano,” he sneered, “that you’re the only one who’s survived my claws?” He turned to me, his gaze a promise of pain. Then, with a swift movement, he raked his claws down my back, igniting a fire so sharp I couldn’t keep back a scream.

My body collapsed, clutching the floor, fighting against the poison raging inside me. Stefano’s voice called to me, breaking through the jeers and laughter. His pain reflected in his eyes as our gazes locked, and, somehow, the searing agony began to ease. Then, I understood—he was taking it, siphoning my suffering through our bond, even with wolfsbane coursing through him.

“No,” I whispered, as dread twisted around me. He was killing himself to save me, but it would all be for nothing. They would kill me anyway. Yet without me, he’d have a chance.

Stefano dropped to his knees, his breaths ragged. I saw his strength drain with each moment, and as I crawled toward him, the truth hit me like a blade. This was what the spirits had warned. “Stefano,” I called softly, my heart breaking as he lifted his head enough to meet my gaze. With all the love and regret in me, I forced a faint smile. “I love you,” I murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“Gianna,” he whispered, his voice cracking with grief and anger as he realized what I was about to do.

My voice shook, but I forced myself to go on. “I’m only weakening you. There’s no other way.”

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice a desperate plea.

It took everything in me to go on. I was giving him a chance, even if it meant sacrificing my own. “Stefano Vitale,” I whispered, looking him in the eyes. “I, Gianna Greco, reject you as my mate.”