Page 3 of Alpha's Chosen Mate (Wolf Billionaire #2)

CHAPTER 3

LEILANI

T here’s a foul taste in my mouth and a Goddess-awful ache in my head. Sunlight streams in through the window, so bright it nearly blinds me. Groaning, I fumble for the sheets and pull them over my face, ignoring the faint sound of metal dragging over the floor. “Camille? The curtains…”

No response. That’s odd. My maid is usually up here before dawn, making enough noise to wake the dead. Stretching, I try reaching for the blinds, but something cold and harsh yanks my wrist back. There’s that cursed metallic scraping sound again.

My eyes snap open as I feel the cool links of a…chain? I jolt upright, but my feet won’t budge. What in the—I gasp at the clasp around my right wrist. There’s another chain linked to my ankle. Frantic and confused, I look around, and my heartbeat stutters when I don’t recognize where I am.

The splitting headache worsens as I try and fail to remember last night. I’m still in my wedding dress. Perhaps the wedding went on and Beta Manuel has me confined to this room. Why can’t I remember anything? How much did I drink last night?

The doorknob to the tall iron door twists, and it squeaks miserably as it turns. A woman dressed in uniform—a plain white shirt and blue pants—and wearing a hateful scowl walks in with a tray. I catch a glimpse of guards outside before the door shuts behind her. “Where’s Beta Manuel? I would like to speak to him.”

She ignores my question, setting the tray of food and water down on the stool closest to me. Her eyes burn with a hatred so intense it sends a jolt through me. “This is all you’ll be getting today, and it’s way more than you deserve.” Her thick northern accent delivers the words more cruelly than I would have imagined possible.

Roughly, she tugs the sheets off me, holding them as though they carry a plague. When I repeat my question, she looks at me like I’m crazy. “There’s no one by the name Manuel here, girl. Be glad the Dark Alpha was in a benevolent mood yesterday, or else you’d be well on your way to the depths of hell.”

No one has ever expressed such hate for me before. It’s jarring. But what’s even more disturbing is the mention of the Dark Alpha. I must have heard wrong. “W-where am I?” I stammer.

“The Dark Moon Pack.”

For the hour after she leaves, I sit at the foot of the bed, taking in my surroundings with surprising calm. There’s only one window, barred and too small to climb through. The clasps of my chains are made of iron, just like the door, which makes them unbreakable—for me, at least. The brick walls are so thick that ramming my fist into one of them only gets me a busted knuckle .

The chains limit me to the restroom, no farther. The sorry excuse for a closet is empty. There are no objects in here that could serve as potential weapons. I can’t summon my wolf, not even to just grow claws. The tray that holds my breakfast could cut into the skin of a human if I hit them hard enough, but it’d take more than that to bring down the bulky guards outside my door.

I can’t escape.

By the second hour, my frustration morphs into desperate rage. I try to coax the guards into taking the chains off under the guise of wanting a bath. They don’t respond to me.

So I start trashing the damned room, hurling everything I can lift into the wall and door and screaming, “Let. Me. Out!”

By the fourth hour, —my prison is wrecked, my knuckles and wrists are bleeding, and my chest heaves with panicked sobs. I can’t remember a damn thing from last night after asking for another glass of Everclear. How can I be here? The Dark Moon Pack is forbidden territory, situated several hours away from home. Does Father know I’m gone? Does he know the psychotic alpha has me? After seeing those photos of me, does he care? How did I even get here?!

I run for the door again, managing to kick it before the chains yank me back. Pain explodes in my wrist and I groan, “Fucking hell.” I cradle my hand to my chest and glare at the door. Maybe if I stare hard enough, I can burn holes through the iron.

Heavy steps thud in the distance. My ears perk up at the sound of a male’s voice, so deep and cold that I shudder. “You’re dismissed.”

Another heartbeat later, the door opens. I see his boots first, black and pristine. My gaze rises to a pair of tailored white pants that would be favored by a human businessman, not a werewolf. I keep taking him in: a designer belt, black polo shirt, and massive arms. He has a full sleeve of tattoos—writing that curls into the shape of a black dragon. Sharp jaw, no beard. An arrogant nose.

His clear eyes survey the room and the destruction I’ve wreaked with complete disinterest. “You’ve been naughty, Leilani.”

I blink. I know that voice, that face, those eyes. With an ache, a memory surfaces from last night: a black suit and the faint scent of winter, cologne, and something darker. Something forbidden. Yes. Marry me. My cheeks catch fire and my anger is temporarily forgotten as I stare up at him. “You abducted me.”

He merely says, “We can hardly call it that, since you were begging for it. I saved you.”

I push my shackled, aching wrist forward. “You call this saving me?!”

He really looks at me for the first time since entering the room, and his stare remains empty. “I couldn’t know for sure that I wasn’t bringing a wild animal into my home.” Inclining his head to the ruined room, he murmurs, “Turns out, you’re completely feral.”

My lips draw back into a snarl at the insult. “Take them off. Take me back.”

He sinks to one knee in one graceful move and I instinctively scuttle back. Cool fingers grasp my wrist and tug me forward. A cry slips from my throat as I fall to my knees before him.

Softly, almost hypnotically, he says, “You’re in no position to make demands, princess.” He strokes an elegant finger over my bruised wrist with surprising gentleness, and warmth, unexpected and unnerving, unfurls in the pit of my belly. “Be good, and this will be over quickly. Or not. I don’t mind a challenge.”

My throat closes painfully and my fists clench. “I’m not playing this game with you. I wasn’t in my right mind. You knew that, and you took full advantage of it. Release me now, before my father gets wind of this.”

He chuckles darkly and the fine hairs on my arms stand up. Another deliberate stroke on my bare skin makes me wince. “Do you see how frightened I am? I’m trembling. Convulsing, even.” In a second, his smile disappears, replaced with a blank stare, and he straightens, tossing my hand in my lap like the thought of touching me disgusts him. “Enya.”

I hadn’t noticed we weren’t alone until the maid from earlier steps forward. Unlike before, she looks meek and compliant. Her head bows submissively and her gaze stays glued to the floor. “Alpha,” she answers sweetly. I’d bet my entire inheritance that they’re fucking.

“Clean up this mess.” When he says “mess,” I think he means me. To affirm my suspicion, he peers down at me with contempt. “The pack colors should do for the wedding dress.”

My spine straightens as I repeat, “Wedding?”

Coldly, he replies, “Yes, our wedding.”

Panic tightens my gut. “I’d rather die.”

His lips tilt into an amused smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. In a split second, his fingers wrap around my throat, squeezing with terrifying ease. My feet lift off the floor as the sound of my choking fills the room. The bones of my neck grind together. My lungs burn with the desperate need for air. Tears well up in my eyes, blurring my vision as I stare into his eyes. They’re shining with something dark, something akin to curiosity, like he wants to take me apart and claim my soul. “That can be arranged. Just say the word, and I’ll break your fucking neck.”

I reach for him, scratching my fingers across his perfect face, desperate to hurt him in any way possible. My nails only scratch him, and the wounds heal immediately. “Y-you’re…a…dead…man,” I wheeze.

He squeezes harder, waiting for a response I won’t give him. I’m Leilani Stone. I’ll never plead. I’ll never beg a bastard like him for anything. He might as well kill me right now.

“Try again.”

“Go to hell,” I try to growl, but it comes out as a pathetic whimper when his hold tightens enough to make my sight go black. I can’t get a single breath in, and undiluted fear overwhelms me when I feel my muscles begin to weaken. The treacherous word climbs up my throat against my will. “Please.”

“Asher,” he adds. “Say it.”

A lone tear rolls down my cheek. “Please…Asher.”

For the briefest moment, something flickers in his eyes, an emotion I can’t place. His eyes widen a fraction and his hold loosens. I cough, choking on air, but he isn’t done with me yet.

“I have nothing against you, Leilani—not personally, at least. But you must understand that the sins of the father are often inherited by their children. You will atone for every hurt your father caused, and one day, when I decide it’s enough—when every member of this pack who bears the same scars decides it’s enough—maybe I’ll let you leave.” He drags his teeth across his bottom lip, and I despise how hot that makes me feel. “Or live.”

“Every hurt my father caused?” I ask incredulously, my voice gaining strength with every word. “Do you have any idea how many wolves we’ve lost to your cruelty?” I hate that my voice breaks just as much as I hate the tears pouring down my cheeks. “You attacked us unprovoked and Father fought back! What do I have to atone for? Miss me with that bullshit, you self-serving asshole!”

Asher scoffs. “You’re either clueless, or stupid.” With that, he drops me, and I fall hard on my ass. He’s out the door before I can gather myself enough to hurl curses at him.

With bruises hidden under the hem of my dress, I walk down the stairs. My heart thuds faster with each step closer to the sound of music—to the hall where my wedding to a man I don’t know will take place. I have such awful luck. To think that just yesterday, I was worried about waking up beside Beta Manuel every day. A funnier thought comes to mind, and I laugh a little.

I’d thought Beta Manuel was a monster, so I’d run right into the arms of the worst monster of them all.

I halt at the base of the stairs as more than a hundred pairs of eyes stare back at me, some with contempt, others with curiosity. I recognize no one, but it’s awfully clear that they know me, and I’m not welcome here.

Swallowing, I wipe my sweaty palms against my velvet green dress. Under normal circumstances, I would find it gorgeous. Hell, I hadn’t recognized myself when I looked in the mirror, but I’d been too overwhelmed by the turn my life has taken to appreciate Enya’s work on me.

A movement in the corner catches my eye, and I look up from my dress to find Asher striding toward me. The sight of him feels like a fist around my heart, and I’m suddenly breathless for all the wrong reasons.

His green velvet tux—a perfect match for my dress—hugs every inch of his body, accentuating his broad shoulders and towering build. Even in a room filled with hundreds of people, he still stands out. It’s not his height, even though he’s at least six foot seven inches. It’s just him : the beastly aura he exudes as he walks, his arresting beauty, carnality honed to perfection. It’s unsettling that I can’t take my eyes off him. It’s been hardly forty-eight hours since I slept in Christian’s bed, yet I cannot rip my gaze away from this stranger.

A few strands of his slicked-back black hair fall over his forehead, and my fingers twitch to brush them back into place. I get lost in his eyes. Maybe that’s why I don’t notice how close he is until he raises his hand. “Come.”

I don’t. I stare and stare at it, considering what taking his hand would mean. My gaze drifts to the center of the hall, where an elder in robes waits to officiate the rites and join us—to doom me to an eternity of this. Of him.

Reluctantly, my gaze returns to my groom and his waiting hand. Between us, there’s a wall of sizzling, angry energy. It’s a mixture of hate and violence brewing… and something else, I realize as his gaze skims from my curls, to the pendant he had Enya put on me—an heirloom of some sorts. His eyes drift farther down, taking in each curve and dip of my body, and for a moment, I think his gaze heats. “We don’t have all night, princess. ”

I swallow, my fingers suddenly cold. “I…I can’t…”

A guard shoves me roughly and I trip, falling into Asher for support. His arm encircles my waist, righting me. I try to push away from him, but he pulls me tighter into his embrace. “Do not test my patience. Whether you want this or not, it will happen.” He tucks a loose curl behind my ear, and the gentleness of his touch frightens me. “It is inconceivable that I let you go.”

Asher caresses the arch of my ear and despite myself, I shudder. “You, Leilani Stone,” he murmurs intimately, sending shivers down my spine, “might just be the winning card I haven’t played yet. But don’t mistake your worth for power. This game…” His eyes flare, the blue depths turning storm-tossed. “Is mine. And by extension, so are you.” He leans in, and I stifle a gasp when his lips brush the top of my ear. “In the grand scheme of things, you’re nothing but a tool for vengeance. You’re just Mardoc’s weakness.”

Tears sting my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. “I’m not going to be your wife.”

“So you keep saying, though I fail to recall giving you a choice. Resist,” he whispers, and my skin tingles with awareness, “and we’ll do this the hard way.”

He lets go of my waist, and adrenaline bursts into my veins, switching on my fight or flight response. I make a run for it. I swear I hear his startled laugh as I sprint across the hall, diving into the crowd to lose him.

I don’t make it very far before large hands grab me and lift me off the ground like I weigh nothing. I shriek as Asher drags me to the center of the room by my wrist, almost dislocating my arm. “Let me go! ”

The guests laugh at me. They toast to my distress. They sneer at me, ignoring my yells and struggles as I’m brought back to the epicenter of my destruction.

The elder clears his throat. “Every union blessed by the?—”

Asher’s snarl ripples through the hall. “Quit the dramatics, Baron, and begin the damned ritual.”

An old dagger is drawn as the light of the full moon spills through the windows and Asher forces my wrist forward. My skin stings as the blade cuts deep and true into my palm. The elder repeats the same action on Asher’s palm, and when our wounds touch, I stop struggling. Warmth spreads through me, intoxicating and euphoric. Sighing in temporary bliss, I look into Asher’s eyes and find him watching me with wonder.

I am suddenly hyperaware of his proximity. He is impossibly close, his delectable scent clouding my senses. His lips look so soft from this angle. He’s staring at my mouth, too. I suck in my bottom lip. I don’t know why I do it. I’m being controlled by a force too strong to fight. It pulls me toward Asher, and him toward me.

The elder is speaking, but neither of us hears a single word. A voice inside me urges me to claim what is mine. I give in to it, rising onto my tiptoes, and even then, Asher is much too tall for me to reach.

I grab his collar and pull him down without a single thought. He lets me. He wants this, too. I can tell because he’s breathing harshly and his eyes are flashing. I close my eyes when I feel his breath tickle my skin. An inch farther and I’ll finally have a taste of those tempting lips?—

Asher yanks his hand back from mine, and the spell shatters. The warmth and delicious heat in my core turn cold. My senses return to me just in time to register something cool poised at my fingertip. My body trembles with the pressure of too many emotions at once.

“Do you, Leilani Stone, vow to be his eyes and ears, his strength and confidant, his equal and partner in this bond forged in love and respect, for as long as you live?”

I stare at the elder, wide-eyed. A heavy “no” sits pretty at the tip of my tongue, but I never get to say it, because Asher makes an impatient sound and pushes the emerald ring onto my finger. “She does. I do. End it, Baron. Now.”

Elder Baron pales, and he stutters for a moment before getting the words out. “By the power vested in me by the Moon Goddess, I pronounce you alpha and luna. You may now seal your bond with a kiss.”

Asher doesn’t kiss me. He walks away from me, and the guards guide me back upstairs. They return me to my room, now tidied, and the chains are placed on my right wrist and ankle once more. I don’t bother fighting. I’m too stunned thinking about what the hell happened down there. I almost kissed him. I wanted to and would have, had he not stopped it. Even now, my core tightens at the thought of how close my lips were to his.

I’ve felt this before. The memory is clear as day: the moment I discovered Christian was my mate. It doesn’t make sense. I still have Christian’s bite on my shoulder. I feel it even now, pulsing weakly. I’d know if Asher was my mate.

Too restless to sleep, I stay awake, waiting for the devil himself to make an appearance. If he is as ruthless and cruel as they say he is, he’ll try to consummate our marriage. He’ll force me to. I’d rather be ready to fight like my life depends on it—because it does—than have him catch me off guard.

But there is no need to fight, because Asher doesn’t come.