Enchant The Cruel Alpha

The prison door creaked open. A guard stepped in, lantern in hand. The dungeon's darkness was more oppressive than the absence of sunlight.

"Damn these dark cells!" He cursed under his breath.

"And where is the queen of shackles this time?" He roamed around, casting the lantern's light in every direction.

From a shadowy corner, Alorea observed him as he searched for her, dubbing her the queen of shackles. He wasn't wrong; shackles were her constant companions. They clung to her wrists and ankles, lay beneath her feet, and wrapped around her body. She slept and woke with them. They defined her existence.

It all began when she fell in love with Nathan, her mate. A man with whom her destiny was intertwined, her life bonded. Despite their fates being entwined by destiny, it was not a blessing but a curse for Alorea.

Her parents had joyfully sent her off with him, pleased that she would become the queen of the werewolves. After all, Nathan was the king, the alpha. They believed he would place her on a throne beside his, elevating her above all others. Women envied her fortune and wished they were his mate.

Alorea herself was brimming with happiness. He embodied everything she had dreamt of. Powerful, strong, handsome, and fierce, he was the alpha every woman desired.

But everyone was mistaken. Nathan was not who he appeared to be.

Three years had passed, and he kept her confined in this dungeon, subjected to the abuse and mistreatment of his guards and common men.

The dungeon is so dark that even the guards require a lantern to navigate it. So dark that they had to shout for her each night when they came to fetch her.

Yes, each night she got a chance to go outside. Her shackles were removed, her chains unbound. Then she was led to Nathan's bed, where she awaited his arrival.

When he arrived, he used her body for his pleasure, oblivious to the pain inflicted by the day's shackles and the night's tortures.

In the morning, she was returned to her dungeon, reduced to a mere slave, forgotten until the next night when his desires flared again.

This was the routine every single night, and he never seemed to tire of her. It was his obsession, so much so that he abhorred the presence of anyone else during these moments. He wanted her all to himself.

"There you are, you wretched bitch!" An angry kick landed on Alorea's stomach as she sat, lost in thought. The pain was intense, and she stifled a scream. "Didn't you hear me calling you?"

The guard bent down and smirked. He placed a finger on her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his. "The next time I call you, queen, you'd better respond quickly. Or I might not be so merciful. Understand?"

Alorea's face was expressionless, and she remained silent. But he took it as a yes.

"Good," he said, hoisting her up. "Now, you're coming with me as usual."

As they exited the dungeon, a growl echoed within her. It was her wolf, equally weary of this servitude and, above all, the disrespect.

But this was not a new experience; they had endured this torment for three years. When would it end?

Soon, she was lying alone on the bed in the largest room, awaiting Nathan. This room, set apart and distant from the rest of the expansive empire, was reserved for Nathan alone. It was where he always took her.

Disturbing thoughts flooded her mind, thoughts that were deadly and dreadful. As these thoughts swirled in her head, her wolf kept interrupting, trying to persuade her to change her mind.

"Don't do it, please. There must be a better way," it seemed to implore.

"No," Alorea murmured, her mind made up. "There is no other way. I must do this, or we will remain slaves forever."

"Where is she?!" A voice echoed from the distance. It was a voice Alorea knew all too well. Once, it had been music to her ears, but now, it only instilled terror in her heart.

Nathan had returned, and it appeared he had crossed paths with the guard who had escorted her.

Alorea wished desperately for time to freeze, for him not to enter the room. He was her nemesis, her bane, her burning scourge, yet also her mate. A fact she was gradually forgetting, obscured by the oppressive darkness of the prison dungeons.

"Clear out! No one must approach!"

His voice thundered closer as he issued the command. She could tell he was nearing the door. Clasping the soft sheets of the large bed tightly, she curled into a ball, steeling her heart for the torment he would inflict.

"Alorea!"

He uttered her name and her heart quivered. He was right outside the door. She knew what would transpire next; she was all too familiar with it.

Alorea awaited in icy agony. She knew he would soon be there with her. He would soon tower over her, pressing her beneath his masculine wolf strength, pinning her to the depths of the bed sheets while feasting upon her feminine essence. It was the same every night. She knew it all too well.

That was all he perceived her as, all he recognized her for. Not his fated mate, bound by destiny, but his sex toy, his plaything, who had a place only in his bed at night, never in his heart.

Each night he used her in this way and by day, she would become a stranger to him once more. She would become his captive, subjected to relentless torment until he grew tired of it.

Any luna might have believed that being Nathan's mate was the greatest honor in the world, standing as the queen beside the renowned conqueror of packs.

Nathan was feared across all lands, by werewolves and vampires alike. Adored by maidens who vied for his attention and wished he was their mate.

But Alorea was his mate. She was the fortunate one.

Yet, to her, he was anything but a blessing. Apart from coupling with her at night, he did nothing to acknowledge her position in the pack or in his life. He was solely obsessed with possessing her, and tonight he had come to do just that.

The door burst open, and begind it, Nathan emerged from the shadows. He was drunk again, and he seemed eager to get his hands on Alorea.

"Tonight, I will sire a child with you." He advanced towards the bed as the room trembled with his potent voice. "This is what the pack desires, don't overthink it."

Alorea had anticipated this statement; it was what he always declared before making love to her. But tonight, she was not prepared to indulge him.

Gripping the concealed dagger close to her heart, she remained motionless on the bed. The dagger's icy touch seeped deep into her skin. She had pilfered it from the guard who had brought her in earlier, the one who had crept closer to warn her in the dungeon.

And she had the dagger for one sole purpose - she had made up her mind... To kill him.