Chapter 2 Two

Eudora's pov

I hit the ground hard, my knees slamming against the cold stone floor. One of the rogues behind me had shoved me with force, but I refused to keep my head down. My breathing was ragged, my body aching, yet my eyes burned with rage as my gaze rose.

Before me stood the throne- I my father's throne- dark, imposing now, once a symbol of my father’s strength and unity.

But it was no longer his.

And it no longer justified the one who sat upon it.

A figure lounged there, exuding a presence so chilling, so commanding, that my blood ran cold.

I had never seen Oberon before, only heard the gruesome tales whispered by my sisters and my handmaidens in the past.

They said he was a beast with seven horns, that his wolf walked only on its hind limbs. They spoke of his six eyes and a mouth stretched from ear to ear, filled with razor sharp teeth that easily tore through the skins of the werewolves he consumed.

But the man before me… He was not the monster they described.

He was something far worse.

His features were devastatingly sharp- which was truly unfair and undeserving. it was as though the Moon Goddess had carved him with ruthless precision. His golden eyes, fixated on me, flickered with a predatory light that pierced straight through me.

Jet-black hair cascaded over his broad shoulders, wild and untamed, framing a jawline so sharp it could cut steel.

A shiver ran through me when his gaze hadn't moved from me- not even a blink, his expression unreadable. My instincts screamed at me to run. But beneath my fury, beneath my grief, I felt it.

The spark. The pull.

The moment our eyes met, something electric rushed through my veins, searing my skin.

Mate.

I sucked in a breath, my body betraying me. Every subtle movement he made, the way his eyes roamed over me, felt like he was undressing me- stripping me bare with nothing but a look.

But the bastard didn't even pretend he felt it- he just sat there like a rigid statue. No acknowledgment of the bond that gripped me so strongly.

His gaze remained cold. Detached, like I was nothing more than an enemy beneath his feet, one he could easily crush.

My heart clenched.

I bit down the emotion, refusing to acknowledge the ache springing in my chest.

One of the rogues stepped forward, his greedy eyes flickering between me and the Lycan as he spoke.

"We saved you the trouble of hunting this one down, Your Grace."

"We deserve proper compensation. She may look small, but she was a hard one to catch," another chimed in, the same one who had dared to touch me.

I gritted my teeth wishing I'd taken off some skin when I had bit him.

Oberon remained silent. Still.

It was as if he wasn’t real- I wouldn't have hesitated to believe it, but my heart slamming in the confinement of my ribacage when his eyes had met mine, noticed he was as real as the reality of my situation now.

Suddenly, with a flick of his wrist, a man emerged from the shadows.

His Beta.

Strikingly handsome in his own right, his emerald-green eyes were sharp and calculating as he descended from the throne’s podium with precise, predatory movements.

I tensed, my stomach twisting.

He was coming to pay them. Then what? Would Oberon make him kill me afterward? I'm sure he'd revel in that.

"We were thinking of wine too," one of the rogues began, already grinning from ear to ear. “Also… “

He never finished his sentence.

In a blur, the Beta's fingers elongated into claws and went straight for them. Everything happened so fast.

A choked scream lodged in my throat as I stared at three heads rolling towards me, their lifeless eyes still containing the shock in them as they stared up at me.

The metallic scent of blood filled the air, thick and suffocating. I scrambled back, my body trembling. My instincts won, already pushing me off the floor to flee, but I never even made it out of the throne room before bumping into something rigid.

His scent overwhelmed me.

Oberon.

Before I could react, his hand clamped around my throat, lifting me effortlessly.

I choked, clawing at his wrist, nails digging into his flesh as his golden eyes bore into mine.

"Trying to run?" His voice was low, lethal, a growl that sent shivers down my spine. "You're so predictable, princess. You should have killed yourself rather than let them bring you to me."

Rage surged through me.

"When I have your head on a spike, Oberon, then I will die peacefully knowing you no longer exist!"

Amusement flickered in his eyes.

Then, his grip tightened.

I gasped, air slipping from my lungs, my vision blurring.

With the last ounce of my strength, I sank my teeth into his wrist, piercing his skin.

Everything went still.

Oberon froze, his eyes narrowing at me in shock.

His Beta, whose expression seemed stoic and unreadable, let the ghost of a smirk cross his face.

I spat his blood onto the floor, chest heaving. "I swear," I snarled, voice hoarse. "I will kill you with my bare hands for what you've done."

Oberon’s expression darkened. "You have spirit, Princess. Too bad it won’t save you."

His voice lowered, cruel and taunting. "Just like the others. I watched their fighting spirit burn into oblivion before I ended them. And I will break you until you have nothing left to grieve."

He shoved me against the wall, pinning me with ease.

I struggled, claws tearing at his skin, but the wounds healed almost instantly.

My father had never healed that fast.

"Shift," he commanded, his voice thick with dominance.

What? He wanted us to fight? Sick bastard.

I glared at him, fire burning in my veins. "Make me."

His lips curled into a rueful smirk. "You can’t, can you? Because you don’t have a wolf. Pathetic."

"Go fuck yourself," I spat, even as my body trembled under his dominating presence.

His golden eyes darkened, and momentarily, I could see that under the layer of that hate and respite, he was fighting the bond.

As we faced off, our ragged breaths mingling, an unspoken passed between us. His gaze turned heated as they subtly graze over my quivering lips before meeting mine again. A tension so thick it made my breath hitch surrounded us both.

Even his grip on my throat felt charged, the touch searing through my skin like fire.

I clenched my legs together, horrified at my body’s betrayal, hoping he couldn't smell my arousal.

"Oberon, you have a meeting to tend to," his Beta interrupted, his tone firm.

The Lycan barely acknowledged him. His gaze remained locked onto mine, burning with something I couldn’t decipher.

Then, as if regaining control, he released me, letting me crumple to the floor to which I rewarded him a glare as I massaged my throat.

"Lock her up," he ordered. "I want her alive. For now."

He turned away, but not before his gaze met mine once more.

Dread curled in my stomach at the look he gave me- like a predator savoring his next meal.

"She has fight in her," he mused. "I might enjoy breaking her before she dies tonight."

In that moment, I regretted every feeling I had toward him that wasn’t hate.

As he left, the Beta seized me, his grip like an iron vice. I struggled, but it was useless.

He dragged me through the halls until we stopped before a heavy wooden door.

My father’s room.

Without a word, he shoved me inside, slamming the door shut.

I collapsed onto the bed, my body wracked with silent sobs.

I clutched the sheets, inhaling the faint scent of my father.

But it only made the pain worse.

Everything was gone.

My family.

My world.

Jamar.

And my mate- the one fate had bound me to- was my greatest enemy.

And by dawn, I would be dead.