The Last Sempyr: Alpha's Fated Mate

The Last Sempyr: Alpha's Fated Mate

outdcloset21 · Completed · 239.1k Words

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Introduction

I was captured by the one man I should fear most.

Commander Ruel is the Alpha King’s deadliest weapon. A war-forged Alpha feared by armies and obeyed by thousands. Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable.

The moment his hand touches mine, everything changes.

He says I'm his prisoner, yet he keeps me chained beside his bed every night.

He says he doesn't want me, yet his wolf growls whenever another man gets too close.

Every day he fights the mate bond.

Every night he comes back to me anyway.

The man who shows mercy to no one becomes terrifyingly protective when it comes to me.

What neither of us expected is the truth hidden in my blood.

He was raised to destroy my kind.

I might be the last of them.

Now a kingdom wants me dead, a traitor wants his throne, and the only man capable of protecting me is the Alpha whose touch feels dangerously like home.

But if Ruel discovers what I truly am, he may become the one thing I can never survive.

Chapter 1

Ira's POV

Cold.

It's the first thing I register as freezing water crashes into my face. I cough, choking on the still pouring water while struggling to get my head away from it. But with my limbs tied to a chair, I find it impossible.

My mouth opens in a gasp when the water ceases.

“Aye, sleeping beauty is finally awake.” someone announces with mock cheer.

A knot forms between my brows as rough laughter erupts around me. My eyes snap open.

I immediately struggle against the thick ropes digging into my wrists and ankles but it's useless and only earns me more mockery from those in front and pitiful glances from the five other ladies tied up beside me.

We are outside in an open hall with men everywhere. There's at least fifty of them dressed in dark blue uniforms. They all have similar badges on the left side of their shirts… it's in the shape of three angry claw marks… the proud mark of Vahl pack warriors.

My blood runs cold.

This has to be the Vahl Pack military base. The Alpha King’s deadliest men. The place people whisper about but never want to see.

“Now that you're all awake,” one of them steps forward, his voice filled with authority, his blonde hair shining gold under the sun.

“If you haven't already figured it out, you are in Vahl base. Whatever right you once had is not recognized here. This place is where you’ll all work from now on,” he says.

“You'll do a good job, don't worry. All you need to do is bend over.” Someone jests with a grin, his hand shamelessly rubbing below his belt.

The others laugh but the man in front shakes his head.

“Ignore what these bastards are saying” he says to us. “You don't owe anyone sex. Well unless you want to. But you must work nonetheless. Clean, serve, obey. You eat if you obey. You bleed if you don’t.” he mentions firmly, his eyes falling on me.

There's a beat of silence before he speaks again.

“But,” he adds, “one of you will serve the commander. You'll do all he says, keep him happy no matter how you feel about it.”

My heart stops as everywhere suddenly becomes cold in a whole different way.

Even the men suddenly look slightly worried for whoever it is.

The blond man’s boots click against the floor as he paces, his gaze drifting over each of us. Then it stops… on me.

“You.” He says.

“Me?”

He nods once. “You’ll serve the commander.”

“No.” I blurt out. “No, I won’t.”

He cocks his head. “You don't have a choice, Redhead. Here, you do as you are told.”

“I’d rather die.” My voice shakes, but I don’t look away.

The man watches me for a while before smiling. “Perfect,” he mutters. “Commander Ruel needs someone a little stubborn to keep him busy. Maybe then we’ll have shorter drills.”

The others roar with laughter.

But my blood freezes over.

Commander Ruel?

“Take me back!” I snap, fear curling around my lungs. “Take me back to my family! Anna, Oren… they need me!”

The man steps closer, his cold eyes fixed on me. “Listen carefully, there's no escaping here. If you’re worried about home…” He tilts his head. “Pray for them.”

Tears sting my eyes but I hold it back, refusing to shed a tear.

He leans even closer, so close I can see the scar cutting across his chin. “But if I were you,” he whispers, “I’d save the prayers for myself.”


Sweat runs down my face, mingling with cold water drops from my freshly washed hair.

Trying to swallow down the rising panic, I clench my jaw.

“Don’t think about it. Not how vulnerable you are, not your hair. Ira, freaking focus. You need to get out of this darn room.” I grit out, talking so I hear something other than the hopeless thoughts of defeat in my head.

My bruised wrists ache with every shift. Even the smallest movement sends pain shooting up my arms.

Still, I pull at the ropes, needing to escape before I no longer can.

I yank down on the bond but freeze, fighting the urge to cry out, when a terrible pain shoots up my arms.

Dear goddess, there has to be a way. Please!

I drag my knees to my chest and push against my bound hands, trying to force some slack into the knots.

For a second, I feel the rope shift, but my hope is dashed the next as something twists in my shoulder.

A sob rises in my throat from the blinding pain. I lock up, unable to move, nearly unable to breathe.

As though sealing my fate, the door knob turns.

Tears sting my eyes, because I know it's too late to do anything now.

“Did someone spray in here?”

A deep, rumbling tone of a man flows with the noise of the door being pushed open.

I keep my chin down, letting my wet hair fall forward like a shield, though it does nothing to hide the pathetic reality of my situation.

The white damp fabric clings to my skin, leaving me entirely exposed. It works perfectly for making me feel less like a human and more like meat left on an altar.

“Really,” a lighter voice responds. “this place smells of dust as always. You…” his voice ceases and I can tell they are staring at me.

Every instinct screams at me to curl inward, to hide the bruises darkening my collarbone, but the ropes biting into my wrists keep me in place.

The room remains dead silent but there's a new shift in the air.

I know he is looking at me.

I force my chin up. If I am going to die or break in this room, I won’t be too much of a coward to look my tormentor in the eye while it happens.

The moment my gaze meets his, the air dies in my throat.

He steps in, and the heavy creak of the floorboards seems to vibrate right through my feet, making me flinch.

My fists tighten but it fails to stop the slight tremor in my arms. I force myself to hold his gaze, using my anger as a shield, staring him down with everything I’ve got, desperate to hide the way my heart is slamming against my chest.

He just watches me, and something in his expression tightens the panic in my chest.

Then his eyes slowly drag down my body, like a physical touch.

There is an unmistakable heat in his gaze. A dark, unhidden hunger that traces the curve of my hips through the transparent cloth and lingers on my bare shoulders, making me feel even more exposed.

It makes my skin crawl.

If I’d known it would end like this, I would’ve stayed.

Because now I know running won't save Anna and Oren.

It won't save any of us.

If there’s anything I could change, it wouldn’t be the escape.

It would be that morning. I would never have left for the market.

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