|chapter 11|

|chapter 11|
|Demetrius|

I storm into the inn where my men have taken rooms. The villagers scatter from my path, their eyes wide with fear, but I pay them no mind as I climb the stairs two at a time and slam open the door to my chamber.

The rage takes me at once. Furniture shatters beneath my hands before I even realize it. A goblet of wine crashes against the wall, spilling red like blood. The humiliation I suffered today burns hotter than any wound I have ever suffered, and I throw and destroy every single thing that can be damaged in the room.

I have crushed kingdoms, commanded armies, taken thrones. Yet one woman makes me feel powerless. Why would the Moon Goddess do this to me?

Despite the carnage I wreak in the room, nothing can silence the sound of her voice, the look in her eyes; the way Talitha had shrunk from me as though I am some nightmare dragged into her waking life. Her scent clings to me still, tormenting me with its warmth. I want to tear it from my lungs, and at the same time, I want to drown in it.

The door opens behind me. From his scent, I can tell it’s my Beta, Rostam. He doesn’t speak. He just stands there as I rip through what is left of the room. The air itself seems to bow under the force of my fury. My wolf surges, clawing to get free, to drag her here and make her yield with teeth and fire. I grit my teeth, trying to force him down.

I pace the length of the room, shards of glass crunching beneath my boots. My body trembles with the effort of restraint. My wolf presses against my skin, his growl a constant thunder inside my skull.

‘Take her. Mark her.’

“Not like this,” I hiss under my breath.

‘She is ours,’ he snarls. ‘Once we claim her and she feels the bond in full, she will never turn from us again. You waste time with words. Take her.’

He is unrelenting. He is the part of me that knows no hesitation or patience. He wants what is his, and he will not rest until we have her.

‘She needs our mark. The bond will silence her fear. Do it.’

My hands curl into fists. My claws threaten to break through, but I force them back. I cannot give in to him—not tonight. If I take her in this state, I will destroy what little chance I still hold. She is fragile, too fragile for the storm that lives in me.

‘Fragile?’ My wolf’s laugh is a rasp in my skull. ‘She is a wolf. She was made for us. You dishonor her by pretending she is made of glass.’

“I will not destroy her,” I snap, my voice echoing too loudly in the ruined chamber. Rostam shifts slightly, but says nothing.

‘Then give me the reins. I will do what you will not.’

“You will not touch her.”

‘If you cannot claim her, then set me free, and I will.’

I try my best to ignore Fenris's insistence to mark Talitha. It’s harder than I would have expected, but after much mental effort, I eventually manage to shove him to the back of my mind. I sit on the upturned mattress and drag my hands down my face.

“What happened, Demetrius?” Rostam asks.

My hands are dripping blood, my breath ragged, and the sound that leaves me is more beast than man. “I found my mate, Rostam.” He stiffens with shock, and I let out a bitter laugh, pressing a hand to my temple. “I found her, and she claimed another man as her husband. She stood before me—before everyone—and denied what the Goddess herself has ordained.”

I can still see her face and scent her fear, her defiance.. her rejection.

“She despises me.”

“i don’t think she does, Sire. I think she merely fears you,” Rostam murmurs.

“Is there a difference?” I snap. I stand and begin pacing again. “Better she fears me than belong to another.”

‘Yes,’ my wolf growls once again, deep in my mind. ‘Fear binds as tightly as love. She is ours either way.’

“Or, better she learns to trust you.”

“Do you understand what it is to be made a fool of, Rostam? By your very own fated mate, no less.”

Rostam stays silent for a while, then eventually speaks. “Maybe fear is all it is. Not rejection. She is not a court lady schooled in reverence. She is a villager. Her life has been simple, untouched by the weight of crowns and kingdoms. She does not know what it means to stand beside a King as powerful as you. I believe if you want her to stand at your side, then you must win her; not seize her.”

“Win her? Am I some lovesick boy to chase after her with flowers and words?”

Rostam doesn’t flinch. “You are a King. And even kings must court their queens, if they hope for loyalty rather than chains.” His counsel is sound, but it does not cool the fire in my chest. Patience is not my gift. I have waited years for her. The bond should be enough.

“I will not release her,” I say, and my voice carries the weight of law. “Not now. Not ever.”

My wolf growls in agreement, fierce and possessive. I turn to the window and stare into the night. The moon hangs high above, watching as though mocking me. I can’t help but wonder if the goddess made a mistake, or if she chose to test me; to see if even a king would bow before her design.

Rostam clears his throat. “You should rest. Rage will not win her.”

“I do not need rest. What I need is obedience. What I need is for her to stop this charade,” I turn back to him.

Obedience will come once she bears our mark. Enough waiting.

Rostam folds his arms, unbothered by my growl. “She is not a soldier, Demetrius. She will not bend simply because you command it.”

“Then what do you suggest?” I bite out. “That I kneel? That I beg?”

“I suggest you show her the man beneath the crown. Let her see more than the Alpha King who terrifies nations. If you want her heart, you must set down your sword long enough for her to touch it.”

‘Weakness,’ my wolf spits. ‘She will laugh at you. She will run. Bind her first and let her learn love in chains.’

“I said, I will not chain her, you beast!” I snarl aloud.

Rostam arches a brow. “I never said you would.”

I see her face in my mind again, the way her eyes widened when they had met mine, and the way her body had trembled when I held her in my arms. That was not borne from hatred. Though there was a bit of fear, yes, there was also recognition. Even if her mind continues to rebut it, her body had certainly felt our bond. No matter what lie she speaks, she knows the truth deep in her veins. Talitha knows she belongs to me.

The thought steels me, and I stand taller, my voice low but certain. “She can resist as ardently as she wants, and she can tell as many falsehoods as she pleases, but the bond will not be denied. She will yield to me.”

My gaze sweeps over the wreckage of my chamber. I want to run, to shift, to give my wolf control and silence this storm inside of me. But I know what he would do if I give him the reins for even a moment. He’ll find her and mark her—consent be damned.

‘Consent is a human word, Demetrius. The bond is older than consent. It is law, and it is nature.’

I shake my head once to try to clear it of Fenris's animalistic words, then I make my own decision. I will fulfill my promise and give her grace till dawn. But from tomorrow, I will begin to claim her—slowly if I must, but fiercely if I am pushed. Tomorrow, Talitha will begin to learn what it means to belong to the Alpha King.

And this time… she will not be able to say no.