05

CHAPTER 5: The Royal’s Wrongdoings

The better question was why was there so many books on the Darkling clan, when they are mere myths in a wind gusting from an ancient storm people no longer care about? What do they understand about the rulers of ancient times where royals once plagued our nations?

Martin’s vigilant voice silences my read word for word when I close the book in my hands on the more volatile aspects of lycanthrope DNA, “Reading up on the history here, just to fact check.” I say stoically, turning to face the silver-eyed creature I still have yet to fully understand. His calculative gaze softens when it grazes the book I set back on the shelf, sliding my finger down the index while that gaze moves back to me.

“I am not the same man as the Julius before me.” He murmurs, like that is the problem here.

I stare at him, “Rejections are rare, almost so non-existent. I wouldn’t have done it lightly if I wasn’t certain this is a bond misdirected on the goddess’s part. I am here against my will, and you’ve done nothing but prove to me there is no chemical activation between physical skin-on-skin contact to prove me otherwise, so why, Martin? Why keep a girl prisoner when she so clearly doesn’t want to be?” Some of those questions were rhetorical because getting him to answer them so easily would make me question the truth in them.

He pockets his hands, “You are right, rejections are rare and yet, you, the most stubborn woman of all realms showed us all up when you felt the need to publicly shame me for being yours in the first place. My anger isn’t displaced or unfair, at least in my eyes. You barely even know me and you treat me so cruelly, I am only returning the favour.”

He didn’t answer a single one of my questions.

He moves closer, “The doors are not locked, windows are not barred, but leaving is suicide and you of all people should know it. I did have to save you from the mere creatures you believed weren’t so threatening. My beast would not have groomed you just to calm down otherwise. It is dangerous to go outside my borders and it is dangerous to believe I will let you run when I have waited years for you. You just have to open up your heart.” He points to me, gesturing to us, speaking as though we are one.

How delusional he was.

“Face it, you are attracted to me?” He chuckles.

I look at him, “This isn’t attraction when the bond is obviously forced, its orientation so wrong that you’re believing we are right. If we are right, then why do I always want to run from you?” It was again rhetorical.

He didn’t quite get that memo.

“Most girls like the chase.” He shrugs, a twitch of his lips rising like a smug son of a bitch.

I shake my head at him, “Are you really so full of yourself that when a girl says ‘No’ to you, you mistake it for a ‘Yes’ then drag her across your territory because she supposedly embarrassed you at a fucking meeting between clans?” He has to be suffering a loss from reality, there has to be something to explain his delusional tendencies because I can’t put a title on it.

He sighs in defeat, “You shamed me without knowing me, if the roles were reversed and you were a respected leader, do you really think I am to believe you would not retaliate? That you would allow someone to disrespect you in such a manner? Do you think you’ve done no wrong here?” He asks me, incredulously.

I purse my lips, “I could have handled it more discretely, but what you are doing is a criminal offense under the European Penal Code that is clearly associated with abduction by force. You should be dealt to in High Court, but No, you fury arse thinks he’s above the fucking law.” I perpetrate, giving him a clear as day idea of what will happen if he doesn’t let me go.

He folds his arms, “Are you done pledging your human rights, sweetheart? Last I checked, your furry arse transforms as well as mine, now unless you have legitimate evidence that humans can do the same, then by all means, drag me to court, until then, you are stuck here. Now, why don’t you be a good girl and apologise for the bullshit you pulled in court.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, “Why don’t you be a good boy and fucking accept that you will not be getting what you want here, PUP?”

His eyes level with a dark, lethal glare, “I would watch you tone, carefully.” He drags the last word on like he’s scolding a child.

My thoughts run wild when I call on my wolf form, and I shiver when it works with a snap. I growl lowly as he stiffens in shock, tensing as he flips me over and leaps off the couch when I wring my pitch black paw out, claws sharpened and ready to swipe. I swish my tail before leaping for him with my jaw wide open and teeth ready to sink into his skin.

He readies his stance, palms out wary, “You are seriously the most stubborn woman I have ever met.” He says, studying me.

I strengthen the muscles in my paws, my legs moving in a pacing manner. I bite at him in anger. He closes his eyes, I barrel into him with a powerful ‘oomph.’

He lets me do it too, “Celeste.” He whispers.

I narrow my wolf eyes, emerald green and darkened gold swirls as I watch him with predator features, growling lowly under my breath before he starts scratching behind my ear, and it ruins everything.

He chuckles lightly when I curl into his hand and roll my wolf head, whining under my closed jaw. My claws retract as I ruffle my fur, lengthening it just to appear more intimidating, and of course, it backfires. His eyes widen at its softness. The next thing I do is far worse. I lick his cheek in affection. He scratches just above my mane. I yip at him.

Fuck.

Fuckety fuck.

He chuckles more, lifting me up in wolf form and ruffling my hair down my back.

I begin purring, and that’s when I shift back. Because this bullshit is twisting my mind. Yanking it in the beast’s direction, not in mine. Not in the right direction. His hand freezes against my pale, bare, and highly exposed back, “Give...me...your...shirt.” I grumble under my breath. He doesn’t say anything above me as a shirt slides over my head. I turn my back to him and fix it, my shredded clothes on the floor next to us.

The shirt was thankfully big enough, but it reeked of him.

I give him a penetrating glare.

He gives me a soft, sleepy smile, “That was cute.”

I lift off of him, “Don’t do that again.” He follows me with a sigh of defeat at my harsh words, my biting tone. Beta Robert and Reina have their heads bowed in front of us. I guess I didn’t want to realise when they had decided to enter the library, perhaps deeming it safe in the hands of their domineering moronic Alpha male.I’ll show him an Alpha, by removing his freaking spine from his back.

He keeps an arm tightly encased around my waist, which wasn’t hard considering how small I am compared to him. Reina gives me a soft look, “Would you like to see your room now, Alpha?” She asks me.

I grunt, “Don’t call me that.” I mutter.

Martin’s fingers slide against my abdomen, in concentric circles against the fabric of his shirt...in an attempt to calm me. I narrow my eyes, “I’m already wearing your damn shirt. Quit touching me.” I tell him under my breath, shoving his hand off me. He clenches his jaw.

“You’re not wearing anything under the shirt, love.” He whispers against my ear.

Who the FUCK did he just call love?

“Whose fault is that?” I snap at him.

“Clearly yours. You should control that temper, though I feel inclined to tell you I quite enjoy it. I like my woman strong.”

I slap his hand and arm off me, “My room better not be next to yours.” I mutter, glaring up at him. He gives me an indecipherable look, straightening his lips.

Reina steps forward, “Your room is one level above Alpha Julius’. Will that be alright?” She asks me stoically. I nod once, reluctantly, gesturing if she could show me the room as I fold my arms under my chest, stepping forward. Martin seems content in watching me squirm, it wasn’t a bond of any kind making me do it, of all things, even being a wolf, I hated the fact transitioning between forms meant shedding clothes. So bloody inconvenient.

“We looked up further in your file...” Reina trails off.

I keep my eyes forward, “What? Checking to make sure I have had an education?” I mutter, practically rolling my eyes.

She sighs as if I tire her out, “That is not what I meant. We would like to know more about you, considering we have found fifteen different files of your name, all fake and all different; neither one is similar. The only real information we know of you is that you’re good with computers, your first pack seems almost non-existent.” She mentions skeptically.

“All unless you feel the need to secure your identity from someone?” She adds.

I trail my eyes to Martin’s. He studied me, only a tense strain against his neck muscles, and the hardening of his eyes wasn’t exposing enough. He clenches his fingers into fists, his abdominal muscles. Robert sharply inhales.

“Why would I need to run from someone when most would be running from me? I work for the High Council, an order made to remove those who feel the need to step outside of lines without explanation, affect or harm others without consequence. Everyone has enemies, the difference is whether you run, and by the looks of you, I’d say you three would run.” I accent my words carefully, Martin studies me.

Robert’s eyes are heightened, his nostrils flare, and his entire aura darkens with the shadows behind him. I sniff the air around him and a power seeps through the cracks to him, calming him in a way only an Alpha can. They’re hiding something, and by the sheer looks of it, my words got to Robert. On a personal level. I vowed to find out why, and what. I scrutinize him as he tenses even further. I furrow my eyebrows, “What? Do you disagree? Your clan was always disregarded in the council’s meetings.” I say to him, stepping forward.

Martin steps forward too.

I remain emotionless, “You know nothing outside the snow, do you?” I whisper in a taunt.

Reina stares at me, guffawing, “You are uneducated.” And you are delusional.

“Explain to me how so, considering I rarely find someone within the leagues that I don’t know, and no one knows enough about the lot of you to deem yourselves worthy of being in meetings concerning the werewolf nations as we know it, so I’m going to ask again, do you truly disagree with the fact you would run? You don’t know the full extent of the laws we must invoke because the last remaining royals of the werewolf species cannot be located in any realm with a vicinity to this one?” I question.

“What do the royals have to do with this?” Reina spits at me.

“They’re runts on the run, that’s what. They hold little authority now compared to ancient times when they still did nothing and yet were bowed to, they dispersed years ago and yet this library holds documentation far beyond what is educated in schools among students and I know the previous Julius leader had no concern for the royals, so why do you?”

Robert stares me down, “We are loyal to the ancient rulers of our kin.”

“The Darkling clan is not our kin, they are traitors to the accords.” I infuse.

Reina stares at me closely, “How could you think that? Julius is loyal to those still associated with Darkling nations, they are not traitors, they were only doused down by new times, where the royals were not respected, where they are not respected. You clearly show you skin, but have you met them? Can you honestly say they deserve punishment for being silenced by their own people?” She questions me.

“They did nothing but wear luxuries and live in them, they did not show authority, they requested for lively entertainment using high ranks in clans to fight in tournaments just for names, for titles and for standing that didn’t hold worth but more blood on the victor’s hands.” I enforce, knowing the true stories of what once was.

Martin steps forward, ” Such tournaments were voluntary, victors weren’t made through the slaughtering of others, the games only turned that way due to those clans enforcing it, demanding rules where the royals lived democratic lives. You are the one who does not live freely, you are the one working under a dictatorship and that has got to end. You work as the werewolf version of the human police, you enforce protection, not strict order. And that is exactly what your council is doing, enforcing strict order.” He argues.

I stare defiantly at him, “I believe you are confusing democracy with cruelty. The royal family should be brought to justice for the number of lives they ruined and demolished with their so-called games.” I seethe.

“You are too young to know the real story. Ones you have read were told by bias victors or equally bias losers. You believe the royal family is wrong on all accounts, then you are fooled by the government you stand with.” Reina mutters to me, giving me a low look as she turns, she struts away and Robert trickles behind her. Martin stares at me for a long moment.

“You need to rest.”

“You just want to shut me up because I have an opinion that does not match yours.” I argue.

He narrows his eyes, “You are free to think and feel however you like, but upsetting our Beta is not allowed under this roof, in this territory and in my presence.”

“You’re fucking threatened by the fact I hate those you apparently cherish. Why don’t you just say it, Martin!” I snap at him.

“Say what?! That you’re an entitled little bitch with no respect for everything and everyone here, that’s right, you are, Celestine. She was not belittling you when she claimed you to be too young to speak with such hatred against a family that was forced out of their throne like runts in a pack. You do not know hardship or sacrifice, I do. Now, get to bed, before I do something we’ll both regret.” He threatens.

“I. Dare. You.” I stare down the pain-in-my-arse does standing in front of me

I’ll give you a pain in your ass if you’d don’t stand down.

My face churns, “Get out of my head.” I snap at him.

He raises an eyebrow, “We’re bonded through an open channel that cannot be closed because our fates are intertwined. The sooner you accept that, the happier we both will be. Enough for tonight, its time for bed, unless I must bend you over my knee to comply?” He actually implies.

I give him a flat look. He’s known for being a sexist pig and a permanent womanizer in his job description. His expression twists, “I am not a womanizer.”

Arsehole.

“I am not that, either.”

Pig-headed, narcissistic tyrant with the body of a freaking sculpture but a headspace of a troll.

He sighs, “I didn’t realize how sarcastic you can be, Darling. A dead term for wit, might I mention.” He says to me.

‘Darling’ is so old.

Oh, goddess, he’s probably at least in his hundreds. She gave me a saggy, old dick.

Fucking tasteful.

Inwardly gagging.

He blinks, before giving me a deadpanned look, “It’s not if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He can’t be a womanizer with a ball-sack the length of his legs, “Thanks, Love. That’s freaking kind of you to think. This entire ball sack is all yours, by the way.” He says, gesturing with his hands.

I scrunch up my face.

I’d rather lick off a sweaty, used g-string than get a look at that old...thing.

He glares at me, “Enough.” He says harshly.

Prissy ogre.

“I’m not an ogre!” He growls at me lowly.

Great.

He’s worse.

He’s turned into a new hulk. Instead of forest green, he’s vomit green and splotchy yellow.

“Where do you get these thoughts from?!” He shouts at me.

Is this yapping bulldog serious?

He appears in front of me and throws me over his shoulder, “Oh, that is it!”