Alpha's Hated Mate : Fated to Enemy

"What Flows in Her Veins"

Kyra's POV

My fingers bled onto the stones as the scrubbing brush slipped from my grip once, then twice, before I forced it back into my palm. 

Pain flared where the whip had kissed my skin. Each movement sent waves of pan down my spine, but I dared not pause. Luna Marissa had eyes like a hawk and claws far sharper than her words.

They said I was punished for staring too long at the Prince Damon, son of Alpha Ethan. 

But I never lifted my gaze. 

However, it didn't matter. 

Because a whore in their eyes I was born, and a whore I’d remain, an omega slut touched by filth and curses.

I dipped the rag into the bucket once more. The water had turned pink with my blood, and my reflection in it was barely recognizable. 

Hollowed cheeks, dry lips, bruises that bloomed like violets across my skin. I looked like a ghost the Moon Goddess had long forgotten.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, the heavy kind that sounded like warrior boots. 

I lowered my head instinctively, keeping my eyes fixed on the marble floor I’d been made to clean for hours now.

The warriors returned from the north.

And with them… him.

He entered like thunder.

I felt him before I saw him. The air shifted, thickening with tension and the scent of earth and smoke. 

Damon. The Alpha’s golden son. The BloodMoon Pack's pride.

My hand froze mid-air when I heard him laugh.

I hated that sound. It reminded me of the time he’d pushed me into a snowdrift while the others watched and howled. I’d cried, but he’d tossed a silver coin at me, calling me a “dog in heat” for simply existing in his presence. 

He was seventeen then. I was fifteen. And the wound he opened that day never healed.

I gathered the rag again and bent low, face close to the floor, praying he wouldn’t notice me this time.

But of course… The goddess is cruel.

His footsteps halted. I felt them right behind me.

“Still groveling on your knees, mutt?”

I clenched my teeth and said nothing.

“I could swear you enjoy being on all fours.”

The warriors laughed. My body flinched, but I did not reply. That only seemed to disappoint him more.

A sudden boot connected with the bucket, sending bloody water across the floor and over my dress. 

"Clean it again." His voice was cold.

The brush fell from my hand.

Something in me, something small and wild screamed.

Not now, I begged. Not now.

But it was growing. That whisper, that hunger for freedom. Instead, I picked up the brush and kept scrubbing.

Damon made a sound of disgust and walked away.

As soon as the hall quieted, I scurried toward the servants' entrance, my bones trembled, my pride shattered and buried deeper than the dirt I scrubbed.

I should have gone to my quarters.

I should have.

But something pulled me back.

Curiosity, perhaps. I crept through the corridor near Alpha Ethan’s council chamber, keeping to the shadows.

The door wasn’t closed fully.

I pressed my back to the stone and listened.

“Alpha Ryder is willing to consider our alliance,” Alpha Ethan said, voice low. “He wants your hand for his daughter.”

A pause. Then Damon’s voice, colder than the winter wind, replied. “She’s plain. And weak.”

“She’s royal,” Ethan growled. “Her lineage goes back to the original bloodline. And unlike that omega whore you keep looking at, she’ll give you heirs worth their weight.”

My heart pounded.

“I wasn’t looking at her,” Damon snapped, but his tone… it was uncertain.

“You were. Don’t deny it. That mutt needs to be put down. If the resistance catches wind she’s still alive…”

The resistance?

I leaned in closer, breath caught between my ribs.

“If they find out what flows in her veins, we’re all dead.”

What?

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t understand.

What flowed through my veins?

The floor creaked underneath my foot, and the voices inside stopped.

Then came a familiar voice. “Who's there?”

I turned.

And there he was.

Damon.

Those cold eyes locked onto mine like a wolf spotting prey. His jaw tightened, and the veins in his neck bulged with fury. 

“You filthy mutt,” He hissed, taking one step forward.

But I turned on instinct.

And ran down the hall, my legs screamed in pain. My back burned with every step, my lungs fought for air, but I did not stop.

I didn't make it far, I had barely passed the hall’s double doors, still breathless from what I’d overheard, when a strong hand closed around my wrist like handcuffs.

“You filthy mutt,” Damon hissed, yanking me back so hard I stumbled into his chest. “Eavesdropping now, are we?”

I tried to twist free, but he tightened his grip. My arm screamed in protest. “Let me go!”

He didn’t. Of course he didn’t.

Instead, his hand fisted the back of my dress and he dragged me like I was nothing more than a sack of rotting grain.

“Thought you could listen in on private matters and scurry off like a rat?” He sneered. “Who told you you could walk upright, omega?”

“I heard nothing,” I lied, choking on the heat rising in my throat. 

“I wasn’t….”

He shoved me forward, and I hit the wall. Hard.

Stars burst behind my eyes.

“Spare me your sniveling lies,” Damon spat. “You were always good at crawling and listening through cracks. Just like the vermin you are.”

He grabbed my hair then, not hard enough to rip, but enough to make me gasp as he forced my head back. I stared into his eyes, those cold, storm-colored things I’d hated since I was a girl.

I hated him.

Hated how he looked at me like I was dung on his boot.

Hated how the touch of his arm still pulsed under my skin like a curse.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t care.

He just dragged me through the hall, down the steps, into the mouth of the earth.

I knew where we were going.

The dungeon.

Again.