Chapter 6
The pleasure and pain intertwined as Xandar kept moving.
He yanked Katia off him with one hand.
With the other, he tore the glass shard free from his chest.
Due to the daily torment Katia endured, her strength wasn’t enough to pierce through to his heart.
As the shard came free, blood sprayed across Katia’s face. His wound began to heal almost immediately.
Xandar reached his release inside her. This time, he didn't strike her.
He pulled out of her, then crushed his mouth against hers.
Katia struggled, but his kiss was savage and dominating. His tongue plundered her mouth.
When he finally withdrew, Katia's lips were torn and bleeding.
The wound on Xandar's neck had already knitted shut.
Xandar licked the blood from the corner of his mouth, grinning. "Red suits you."
He reached out and smudged the blood from her lips with his thumb.
Katia glared at him with pure hatred.
"Yes. That look right there," Xandar's smile widened. "Wanting to kill me but being powerless to do it—that just makes me harder."
"You sick freak! Psycho!" Katia snarled.
Xandar got off the bed and started dressing. "Three months in, and you still can't come up with better insults."
Katia turned her head away. One more look at him repulsed her.
Xandar grabbed her chin and wrenched her head back to face him. Her bright blue eyes held nothing but the reflection of him.
The possessiveness inside him hadn't faded after ravaging her. If anything, it had only burned hotter—a wildfire he had no desire to contain.
He took Katia's hand and pressed it to the pulse in his throat.
"Next time, stab here," he said softly, almost tenderly. "Press hard enough, and maybe I'll actually die."
Katia locked both hands around his throat and squeezed with everything she had left.
"I’ll kill you, you fucking monster!" she screamed.
Xandar's smile grew radiant, like he was entertaining a favorite pet.
With a single, hard shove, he flipped her beneath him.
Katia couldn't move. She glared up at him, panting with fury.
Xandar leaned down and kissed her lips, tongue gently sweeping over the cut.
"You're learning, but I'm busy today. Can't stay and play."
His hips pressed against hers. She could feel how hard he was.
But he pulled away.
He stood, adjusting his clothes, and looked down at her with a smirk.
"See you tonight."
As Xandar left the Omega quarters and headed toward the main hall, his mind was surprisingly conflicted.
Today was important. Alphas from all over the kingdom were coming.
His brother, Alpha King Cahir would be among them.
And Cahir would finally learn the truth. That his fiancée, Allison, was dead.
Xandar had kept it quiet for months, making excuses, delaying the inevitable. But today, there was no avoiding it.Which meant Cahir would also learn about Katia.
Xandar's jaw tightened.
He should have sent Katia to the fighting pits already. Should have let her be torn apart by wild beasts as punishment for killing Allison.
But he hadn't.
And now…
Now he was starting to wonder if there was a way to keep her alive.
Maybe he could send her to the pits and arrange for her to accidentally survive. Slip her out through a back channel. Hide her somewhere.
Why?
He didn't know.
The ceremony was scheduled for noon. Snow Moon Pack's banquet hall was packed with wolves, but everyone was waiting for one person to arrive: Alpha King Cahir.
When the black convoy rolled into pack territory, silence fell over the crowd.
Cahir stepped out of the vehicle. He was tall, broad shouldered, and radiated a suffocating aura of dominance. He wore a black suit, but it did nothing to mask the dangerous wildness that clung to him.
His eyes were a striking green, captivating, yet no one dared hold his gaze for more than a second.
Cahir was thirty five years old and had ruled for ten years.
In that decade, he'd waged wars and expanded his territory. Most recently, he'd defeated the Silver Fang Kingdom in the East and brought countless packs under his control.
But he was also notorious for his brutality.
He was bloodthirsty, volatile, utterly unpredictable. Sometimes he'd kill someone for a wrong look. Other times, he'd show unexpected mercy.
No one could anticipate what he'd do next.
That's why they called him the Mad King.
Now, the Mad King stood before them with his royal warriors at his back.
He towered above the thirty Alphas gathered from across the kingdom, yet none of them came close to his power.
The ceremony proceeded smoothly.
Xandar knelt on one knee, accepting Cahir's appointment.
Cahir pinned a silver badge onto Xandar's chest, the mark of a Head Alpha.
"Rise, my brother," Cahir said, his voice low and commanding.
Xandar stood, and the two men embraced.
Applause thundered through the hall.
Cahir began his speech. His voice wasn't loud, but every word carried clearly to every ear in the room.
Then, halfway through, Cahir stopped.
His body went rigid.
Everyone felt it, a wave of crushing Alpha dominance rolled off him.
Werewolves throughout the banquet hall instinctively lowered their heads.
Cahir's gaze had locked onto someone at the back of the crowd.
A woman stood there. Reddish-brown hair pulled back in a high ponytail.
She wore an Omega's uniform. Her wrists looked delicate as twigs, collarbones sharp, shoulders seeming too fragile to carry any burden.
She lifted her head. Beautiful blue eyes.
Their gazes met.
Xandar caught the direction of Cahir's stare. When he spotted Katia moving toward them, his face drained of color.
A raw, unstoppable hunger surged through Cahir—he wanted to claim her, mark her, let everyone know she was his.
