Chapter 3 Sleeping with the Enemy
Every ounce of sanity jolted out of me as my back hit the solid wooden door. I wouldn't dare flee anymore.
In the center of the room, Alpha Ryker stood with the full moon looking down over him through massive floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows over his face. His fingers fumbled playfully with the last button of his dress shirt, which he finally just shrugged off to the floor in a careless heap.
I swallowed hard, my eyes smoldering with disbelief.
He was majestic. And dreadful.
His torso was a scene of trauma. Thick cords of muscle caressed his ribs and his stomach; yet, it was the scars that held my attention. Claw marks. Burn scars. Knife wounds. And tattoos that were black tribal ink, swirling over his shoulders and down his arms, declaring him a warrior of the Old Ways.
He looked like a god of war carved from obsidian.
"Quit staring, Ryker drawled as he kicked off his shoes. On the contrary, this seems somewhat rude."
I quickly diverted my gaze onto the black carpet. "I... I wasn't staring. I was just..."
"Panic," he supplied. He walked to the bed, that big mattress moaning slightly as he sat at the edge."You think I brought you here to use you."
I answered him with silence. That was what happened in stories like this one. The cruel Alpha takes the girl. The girl has no choice.
A bitter scoff escaped Ryker's lips. "Look at me, Elara."
I forced my head up.
"I am many things," Ryker told me, gold eyes fastened on mine. "I am a killer. I am a monster to your people. But I am no rapist. I do not force myself into the beds of women. For sure, I do not force terrified little mice who still smell like their ex-boyfriend."
The stinging reminder of Kade hurt.
"Then where do I sleep?" I asked, my voice barely rising above a whisper. I looked around the room. There was no couch. Only a velvet armchair in the corner.
Ryker patted the empty space beside him on the massive king-sized bed.
"You sleep here," he said.
"With you?" I squeaked out.
"It’s a big bed, Elara," he replied, sounding bored. He reclined, crossing his arms behind his head. "You stay on your side, and I will stay on mine. If you happen to touch me in the middle of the night, I will probably throw you out of the window on instinct. So...don't."
He closed his eyes and dismissed me like I was rotten.
I was standing there for a whole minute agonizing about my options. The armchair looked uncomfortable; the flooR looked cold, considering my legs were already sore from the heels and emotional fatigue.
With a trembling sigh, I walked over to the bed. Cautiously, painfully slowly, I crawled on to the mattress on the far left side, keeping as much distance as I could. I was practically hanging off the edge.
Clutching my knees against my chin, I lay, still dressed in my blue frock and shivering slightly.
The entire room was silent, aside from the terrible clang of rain hammering against the glass souls of the silvery apparitions who stared at me. I thought I would probably stay awake terrified all night.
But then, a scent invaded my nostrils.
It drifted over the sheets from Ryker's side. Rain. Pine. And something more...something smoky and warm like a campfire.
The most comforting smell I had ever inhaled.
My wolf was dormant—non-existent according to Kade—but something within my chest purred. I felt my muscles relax. A wave of fear rolled away, slowly replaced by a heavy, drugging exhaustion.
Before I knew it, I had succumbed to deep, dreamless slumber.
When I woke up, I was alone.
The other side of the bed was chilly. Ryker was gone.
I sat up and rubbed my eyes. For a moment, I thought I was back in my tiny room at the Silver River pack house. Then, catching sight of the black velvet curtains and the Gothic furniture, the memories came rushing back.
I had married the enemy.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," I shouted, hugging the silk sheets against my chest.
The door opened, and a young woman entered, carrying a pile of clothes. Short choppy black hair. A nose ring. She didn't look the type to be a maid. She looked as if she could take me out with a spoon.
"Alpha said to burn the blue rag," she said, tossing the pile of clothes onto the bed's foot. "Put these on. Breakfast is in ten minutes. Don't be late. The Alpha hates waiting."
With that, she turned to leave.
"Wait," I said. "What's your name?"
She paused at the door, looking me up and down with blatant derision. "Jia. I'm the Gamma female."
Great. Not a servant. A very high-ranking warrior. Ryker has his best warriors doing laundry?
"Why are you bringing me clothes?" I asked.
"Because no one else wanted to come up here," Jia replied bluntly. "We don't like outsiders—especially ones from Kade's pack."
She slammed the door behind her.
I exhaled a breath I hadn't known I was holding. Okay. Hostile territory. Got it.
I looked at the clothes. Ryker was true to his word: no frills, no pastels.
I picked up a pair of black cargo pants that hugged the skin, a fitted grey tank top, and a heavy leather jacket. There were also combat boots.
I changed quickly. I stood in front of the mirror. No blue dress. The girl looking back at me appeared tougher. Darker.
I didn't look like some discarded mate anymore. I looked like I belonged to the Blood Moon.
I took a deep breath and took a step toward the bedroom door.
Finding the dining hall was not difficult; I just followed the smell of bacon and low, aggressive voices.
I made my way down the grand staircase and finally arrived at the dining hall. A long room with a massive stone table.
Ryker sat at the head of the table. He wore a black t-shirt that looked as if it would burst with the slightest movement. He was eating a rare steak and reading from a tablet.
Six other people sat around him. All big, scarred, and loud, laughing and eating like a bunch of Vikings.
The moment I stepped in, noise ceased.
Six pairs of eyes turned and fixed on me. An oppressive silence descended. It was not welcoming; it was predatory.
Ryker did not bother to lift his head up from his tablet. "Sit."
With a fork, he gestured to the empty chair to his right. The Luna's chair.
I forced my legs to move and walk past the warriors whose eyes were scrutinizing me. Aggression emanated from them as they were toying with me, waiting till my back bent down.
Struggling, I pulled the heavy wooden chair and sat upon it.
"Oh, so this is her," a deep, gravelly voice sneered.
I looked across the table. There was a man sitting to Ryker's left. He looked older and uglier than Ryker, but he had the same dark hair and his eyes were cold and milky.
"Silas," Ryker warned. Eat your food."
"I'm just looking, Nephew," Silas said, flashing a at me yellow-toothed smile as he leaned over the table to loudly sniff the air.
Then he recoiled wrinkling his nose.
"She smells like nothing," Silas laughed. "Actually, worse than nothing. She smells like a human. Is this a joke, Ryker? You brought a pet to the table?"
Other warriors laughed.
I gripped the edge of the table, feeling my knuckles as they turned white.
"She is my wife," Ryker said calmly, finally taking a good look. "And she is your Luna. Show some respect, uncle."
"Respect is earned," Silas spat, slamming his fists down on the table. The silverware rattled. "You need a strong female to breed strong heirs. This ... thing ... is dry. She has no wolf; she is a waste of seat."
Silas looked at me with a gaze filled with rage.
"Tell me, girl," growled Silas. "What are you going to do when the Rogue King attacks? Are you going to cry him to death? Or are you going to hide behind my nephew's legs like the coward you are?"
All were silent. Waiting for me to answer. Waiting for me to cry and run away.
I looked at Ryker. He wasn't helping me. He was watching me, his curious gold eyes assessing me. He was testing me, too.
Sink or swim with Elara.
I slowly, of course, lifted the steak knife from my plate.
I turned to look at Silas.
'I may not have a wolf, Silas,' I said, keeping my voice steady, although my heart pounded against my ribs. 'But I've got a brain, which is clearly something you're lacking.'
Silas went purple in the face. 'What did you just say to me, bitch?'
'I said,' I continued, leaning in, 'that insulting the Alpha's wife while eating the Alpha's food in the Alpha's house is a very dumb way to stay alive. If I were you, I would shut my mouth and eat.'
Gasps rang all around the table. nobody spoke to Silas like that.
Silas roared. He stood up so fast his chair flipped over. His eyes flashed red. He began to shift, claws extending from his fingers.
'I will tear your tongue out!' Silas bellowed, lunging across the table at me.
I froze. I couldn't move. He was too fast.
Before Silas could reach me, a blur of motion slammed into him instead.
Ryker didn't even stand up. He just moved his arm. He caught Silas by the throat in mid-air and slammed him down onto the table.
CRACK.
The wood splintered.
Ryker pinned his uncle to the table, squeezing Silas's windpipe. Ryker's eyes were so bright they looked like two suns.
'I told you,' Ryker whispered, his voice low and deadly growl that shook the walls. 'She is my wife. If you try to touch her again, I won't just break your arm. I will mount your head on the gate.'
He released Silas, shoving him to the floor.
With lightened shoulders, he stood up, straightened out his shirt, looked around the table at the terrified warriors.
"Does anyone else has to say to the Luna?"
Silence.
"Good," Ryker said. He turned to me. The anger vanished, replaced by that unreadable dark look.
"WELCOME TO THE BLOOD MOON, ELARA," he said, "Eat your breakfast. We have a wedding to plan."