A bite from an Alpha King

Chapter 6: Real family

-Octavia-

It was cold in the cell. I didn’t really feel it, but I knew. My body was trembling, yet I felt numb. I lay curled up on the cold floor like a child, unmoving. I had stopped crying, though I couldn’t tell when.

Maybe it had been hours, or maybe only minutes. Time felt meaningless. My head was light, but my heart weighed heavily in my chest. A whirlwind of thoughts raced through me, and my wolf’s voice was louder than ever before.

My father had always told me to keep her in chains. Do not let your instincts or your wolf control you, or it will lead to your doom. So I had always done exactly that. But after the king bit me, it was as if she had broken free, and now she had so much to say.

You can’t kill him! Stop those thoughts now! He is our mate!

She kept blaming me for hurting our mate, and her constant guilt-tripping was driving me mad. In the end, I couldn’t take it anymore. I pressed my hands over my ears and screamed, trying to drown her out, but as the scream died and my lungs emptied, her voice only grew stronger.

“Go away!” I snarled, but inside, she just rolled her eyes.

You think you need no one in your life. You only listen to your father’s words, but he never loved you. He only taught you how to survive, how to do it without me. You need me. And you need our mate!

“SHUT UP!” I screamed, the sound echoing violently off the cold brick walls.

I hoped it would silence her, but before my wolf could respond, the door to my cell swung open, and the room filled with a strong musky scent, mixed with the unmistakable smell of alcohol—bourbon, maybe.

I shot to my feet so quickly that a head rush blurred my vision. For a moment, I thought I was imagining things, but as my sight cleared, there he stood—the king. His yellow eyes looked tired, his short dark hair was disheveled, and his black shirt was only half-buttoned, revealing his iron-hard chest. He wore black pants, and despite his disheveled appearance, he radiated power.

“What are you doing here?” I sneered, glaring at him.

“Am I not allowed to check up on my mate?” he asked, his tone laced with sarcasm.

I crossed my arms and glared at him with all the hatred I could muster. “We are not mates,” I growled. “We might as well reject each other now while we still can.”

His reaction was instant. Rage flashed in his eyes, and he stormed towards me, catching me off guard. I instinctively backed away, but my retreat was cut short by the cold wall behind me, sending shivers down my spine.

He was too close, his breath hot against my skin as he leaned down, his towering frame forcing him to bow his head and hunch slightly just to meet my eyes.

“Don’t ever let me hear those words leave your lips again, my little mate,” he warned, his voice low and threatening.

I shuddered. He was the only one who had ever made me feel real fear, and his words confused me. Why wouldn’t he want us to reject each other?

-Valerio-

When I heard those words leave her beautiful pink lips, it ignited something inside me—anger, and more than that, fury. My wolf surged to the surface, enraged that our mate would even suggest such a thing.

I stormed towards her, watching as the confidence drained from her eyes, and she backed away. She was different now, ever since I marked her. Before, she had no fear standing against me, but now something had shifted, something in her was willing to submit. Was it her wolf? Perhaps that was why she had been able to almost kill me.

When I had first entered the cell, I was surprised to notice her eyes were slightly swollen, as if she had been crying. She didn’t strike me as the type to cry easily. Had my mark really affected her that much? It was hard to believe, but those thoughts were distant now as I cornered her against the wall. I couldn’t let her reject me. Being rejected wasn’t something simple—it could drive you insane.

I stared into her silver eyes, making it clear that if I ever heard her speak of rejection again, there would be consequences. I noticed a flicker of confusion in her gaze—did she think I was saying this because I wanted her? My wolf still did, despite everything, but I felt differently.

“From now on, you will behave, little mate. You’ll do exactly as I say, or I’ll make sure you feel the consequences,” I said, backing away.

As soon as I stepped back, I saw the hatred return to her eyes, along with her confidence. She crossed her arms defiantly and turned her head away, huffing to show me she had no intention of submitting.

“I will never submit,” she sneered, flashing a wicked smile. “You might have my wolf wrapped around your little finger, but I will never bow.”

“Then you’ll never know your real family,” I said, pulling out one of her adoptive father’s old brown journals, which I had tucked into the back of my pants. Her eyes immediately locked onto it, a flicker of interest shining through. I smiled, knowing I now had her attention.

“What is that?” she inquired, her focus fixed on the journal in my hand.

“Oh, this?” I replied, gesturing to it. “Just one of the many journals written by the man you considered your father.” Her arms dropped, and her mouth parted slightly as she stared at the journal, as though it was the one thing she needed most.

“What do you mean, ‘real family’? My father is my family,” she snapped, quickly trying to regain her composure, clearly pretending she wasn’t desperate to see what the journal contained.

“Come on, Octavia,” I said, watching her eyes widen when I spoke her name. “You must have come to terms with the fact that the man you called ‘father’ was never really your father!” My voice dripped with frustration. I couldn’t understand why she clung so stubbornly to the idea that Alpha Xavier was her true father.

“He is my father!” she yelled, her eyes filling with tears. “And you took him from me when I was only thirteen!”

I could hear the pain in her voice as she yelled at me. I felt no guilt for killing him, but it did bother me that she remained so fiercely loyal to Xavier, despite the fact that his intentions for her had never been about creating a true father-daughter bond.

“You’re right. I did kill him, and I did take his crown,” I growled, watching her flinch, “but you forget—it was mine first! The man was never fit to be king, even if he was a distant relative. He was crazy!”

“Don’t you dare talk about my father that way!”

“But the man wasn’t your father!” I yelled, and a tear spilled from her eye.

“He doesn’t need to be of blood to be family. He cared for me!” she shouted.

I shook my head. Poor, delusional girl, I thought. It was sad to watch.

“Cared?” I asked, incredulous. “He never cared for you. He needed you because he knew you held power. You’re stronger than most. He needed you to do his dirty work.”

“You’re lying!” she yelled, shaking her head violently. “Why would I be stronger than most?”

I waved the journal in my hand. “All the answers are right here,” I said. “But if you don’t believe me, I can give you a taste.”

She sighed, shaking her head slowly now, as if resigned to never believe a word I said. But I knew—once she read her father’s thoughts, she’d break immediately.

“September 1st. Octavia is too kind. I see how deeply she feels for the people around her. How she always tries to make everyone happy, trying so hard to please others, and she is only three. I can’t let it stay that way. She has to be cold. Her feelings must be removed if she is ever going to be a great leader. If she ever wants to be my daughter, she must be stronger—or else I will remove her, and I won’t look back…”

Tears poured down her cheeks as I let the last sentence hang in the air like a suffocating fog. I knew she couldn’t believe her own father’s words. But I had chosen an old journal entry, written before Xavier had started to care for her. I needed Octavia to believe me, to shatter her idealized image of her father.

She collapsed to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself, trembling violently. It pained me to see her break like that, but I knew it was necessary.

“T-Tell me it’s a lie!” she sobbed, looking up at me with pleading eyes, but I said nothing.

I simply stared down at her. “If you don’t believe me,” I said, letting the journal fall to the ground, “you can read it yourself.”

She reached for the journal, her fingers grasping it, but before she could pull it close, I pressed my foot down on it. Her eyes shot up to mine. I squatted down, gripping her chin firmly between my fingers. “You won’t read a single word before you submit to me, now and forever,” I said, my voice low and menacing.

She squeezed her eyes shut, more tears slipping out, but when she opened them again, they weren’t filled with despair. No, instead, there was cold defiance, and a wicked smirk curled on her lips. “Go f*ck yourself,” she whispered, releasing the journal and yanking herself from my grip.

She laughed softly to herself, pretending she didn’t care what was about to happen. Anger surged through me as I snatched up the journal. “Seems I’ll have to get my hands dirty, then, my little mate. Time to teach you some discipline.”

I moved toward. She tried to crawl away, but I grabbed her arm, yanking her up before tossing her over my shoulder. I carried her out of the cell without hesitation.

“Let me go! What are you going to do to me?” she yelled, struggling to break free from my iron grip.

“I’m going to teach you to respect your mate and your alpha!” I said, delivering a hard slap to her ass.