Chapter 6 Mark
“Althea,” Gavriel growled, catching her as her body wavered. Her head rested on his shoulder, her warm breath brushing against his skin.
“No… no, no, no,” he muttered softly. He held her close, one hand supporting her head, the other wrapped around her waist.
“Who would dare do this?!” She heard Gavriel grunt, his voice hoarse and angry. “You’re not dying on me,” he growled through gritted teeth.
Althea felt like she was slipping away. The room whirled around her. Her sight dimmed, and each breath became harder to take. Her body burned internally as the wine-turned-poison spread through her blood like wildfire.
Then... suddenly... she felt it...
Something sharp scraped the delicate skin between her neck and shoulder. Her eyes flew open just as she felt a sharp, piercing pain. She gasped, her fingers twitching from the shock.
“Wha-?” she tried to speak, but her voice faltered.
It wasn’t just any pain. It was a bite. His bite… Gavriel’s fangs had punctured her skin.
The heat from his mouth and the intense energy flowing through him surged into her veins like lightning. Her heart trembled and then pounded fiercely. The pain intensified, bringing with it a strange sensation… a pull like an unstoppable force.
"MINE!" he growled.
The moment Gavriel laid Althea’s unconscious body on her bed and saw the blood still damp on the curve of her neck from his bite, something in him snapped. “You’ll survive. Whoever did this will pay. I’ll burn the world down for touching what’s mine.”
He stepped out and turned to his Beta, Osman, whose face had gone pale the second he saw Gavriel’s expression.
“Seal the estate,” Gavriel commanded, his tone icy and precise. “No one is to enter or leave. Find every servant, guard, and anyone who has been in Althea’s chamber since noon today. Bring them all to the throne room at once.
Osman responded without hesitation. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Within an hour, the palace was shaken by the sound of armored footsteps and shouting, filling every corridor with tension. The guards, kitchen staff, maids, and even Melva were summoned and made to kneel in the dimly lit throne room.
Gavriel, dressed in black with his crimson cloak draped over one shoulder like spilled blood, stood on the stairs, his cold eyes scanning the gathered crowd.
Althea’s scent still hovered behind him… warm and sweet, now mixed with a bitter poison note. Gavriel’s jaw clenched tightly. No human or hybrid could have tolerated such a dose. The attacker who added it to her wine knew exactly what they were doing.
He had no option. He wasn’t meant to mark her. Not yet. Not in these circumstances. But it was the only way to save her.
His Lycan-infused bite was the only way to cleanse her of poison. When his Lycan essence fused with hers through the mark, the venom became harmless. His strength served as her shield, prompting her body to adjust and heal.
It was risky, personal, and lasting. Yet, he would do it again without hesitation. Because the moment he saw her fall and gasp in his arms, her eyes pleading even though her lips could no longer speak… something feral had been unleashed inside him. And that part of him would destroy the entire realm to ensure her survival.
“Someone poisoned the wine given to my breeder,” he said coldly, his voice reverberating off the stone walls. “She drank it and nearly died.”
Gasps spread through the crowd.
Gavriel descended the stairs slowly, each step deliberate and commanding. “I will ask once, who tampered with the bottle on her table? Who touched it? Speak now, or I will force the truth out of you."
Melva shook her head, her eyes filled with fear. “I-I’m the one who always serves her, my King. But I didn’t bring the wine this time... it was already there when I entered her chambers to clean.”
“Who placed it there?” he barked.
The servants shared anxious glances. After a moment, a trembling young maid cautiously stepped forward, head bowed so low her chin nearly touched her chest. "I... I only brought the tray as Lady Cara instructed."
Silence fell sharply. Gavriel’s eyes darkened. “Cara?”
The smell of blood filled the air as Gavriel burst into the courtyard. His eyes resembled stormclouds, cold and crackling with contained rage. Warriors parted silently, not daring to interfere with the Alpha King in such a fierce mood.
“Bring her,” he growled.
Two guards pulled Cara Richmond forward, her face scratched from resisting, her pride lost. She was still beautiful, but fear showed in every part of her face. She fell to her knees, trembling as she gazed up at him.
“My King-” she began, voice cracking.
“You dared touch what is mine,” Gavriel said, his voice low, dangerous. “You poisoned her.”
“She’s a traitor’s daughter!” Cara snapped, tears brimming in her eyes. “She’s filth! Not even worthy to warm your bed, let alone carry your heirs!”
Gavriel’s eyes glowed. “Say that again.”
Cara’s voice wavered. “She’s… she’s not even worthy of being your sex slave. I did this for you! To protect your name, your legacy! She doesn't deserve you, Gavriel. You don't see it now, but she's already making you soft. I did it because I love you and—”
“You love me?” He cut off. “Then you should have followed my orders. You would have known that no one is allowed to touch what belongs to me. No one is allowed to harm her. Not even with a look."
Cara sobbed. “Please, Your Majesty… I was jealous. I lost control. I just- I thought if she was gone…”
“You thought you could win me?” he hissed. “By killing her?”
He stepped forward, causing Cara to stumble backwards. The other guards remained still, unwilling to intervene.
“No, please… I didn’t mean-”
He lifted his hand, claws now extended, gleaming dangerously in the moonlight. “I said no one touches what’s mine. You all heard me.”
Cara opened her mouth to scream, but her words were lost in a sickening, swift strike. Blood stained the stone floor, not a single soul dared breathe.
Gavriel stood over her lifeless body, eyes still burning, chest heaving. Then he turned to the stunned crowd and growled, “If anyone else even thinks of harming my breeder… then I guess it’s a beg for a death this swift.”
Then he walked away, blood dripping from his hand, his only thought consumed by the girl fighting for her life.
His mate.
His.