Mated to my Hated Enemy

CHPATER SEVEN

No lycan on Earth harbors a deeper grudge against my family than Nickolas. My dad was responsible for killing his father. The only reason he suggested a peace treaty was due to his concern for the potential extinction of his people. This concern arose from the war the late Lycan king waged against werewolves, or at least that's what he led us to believe. In recent years, werewolf numbers have surged and terrorized lycans due to their numerical advantage, which I believe was allowed intentionally to mislead us. Nickolas requested a peace treaty, claiming the need to end the slaughter of his people, regardless of his desire to see my father’s head.

Lycans and werewolves, although of the same species, had long been enemies. Lycans, possessing superior strength, speed, and immortality, were traditionally oppressive towards werewolves. The origins of werewolves are traced back to a witch's creation, seeking to empower a supernatural force capable of standing against the dominating lycans. As they weren't a product of the moon goddess like lycans but were crafted by a witch with a deep-seated animosity towards lycans, werewolves were always scorned by their stronger counterparts.

For many years, werewolves served as slaves to lycans, enduring their oppression. It wasn't until a century ago that the first werewolf king emerged, liberating his people from servitude. However, even with newfound freedom, the werewolves struggled to shed the stain of their history. Lycan territories remained perilous for werewolves, and a mere accidental crossing could spell doom for them.

When I entered the ballroom, I didn't immediately guess ‘Nickolas’ was my mate. He exuded authority, and I presumed him to be the King's general, not the King himself.

I dreaded that my mate would use me as a pawn in settling scores with those who harbored grudges against my family, especially after the ordeal with Ava. Now, I realize that his personal animosity alone could be enough to end my life. I must recover swiftly and rid my system of silver. Every passing moment in this place feels like a countdown to my mate's arrival, and I am astonished that Alissa hasn't traced and attempted to rescue me. Could they have employed a spell to prevent it?

"You're not dead yet," a voice resembling my mate's remarks, yanking me back to the present. I glimpse him near the door, clad entirely in black, mirroring the shade of his heart. His black dress shirt contours his form, offering a tantalizing view of the muscles beneath. Even though this is the last thing I should be doing, I catch myself biting my lip, unintentionally gawking. s**t! I hate the mate bond.

His long legs, encased in black slacks, carry him forward as he pushes off the door, his expensive shoes emitting a rhythmic click against the floor. With purpose, he strides toward me by the bed. I stare star stuck, cursing the moon Goddess for giving me such a sexy mate who will only bring me my death. His captivating scent, one that might elicit howls of pleasure from Marie if she were awake, engulfs my senses as he bends down to examine my face. In truth, even I would revel in delight with his scent enveloping me. This has to be the worst type of punishment ever.

"The damage could have been worse," he remarks, his gaze roaming over the bandages that cover my body. In this close proximity, I catch a glimpse of the chiseled chest beneath his partially unbuttoned shirt. He's undeniably well-built.

Nickolas performs an action that leaves my eyes wide and my heart racing. He seizes my forearm, drawing me closer until our faces are mere breaths apart. I notice his eyes have turned red, and the rhythmic pounding of my heart against my ribcage intensifies.

"You are not allowed to die. Do you hear me?" he declares, staring me directly in the eyes. I'm left utterly shocked. Does my mate genuinely care about me? His prior statements didn't suggest such concern, so where is this coming from?

"Amelia," he pinches my arm, pulling me back to the present. I nod, understanding that he expects a response.

"Good," Nickolas says, releasing my hand and moving away. As he reaches the door and turns the knob, he utters words that shatter any hope in my heart of us being together. "I can't have you dying before I have made use of you."

The door slams shut as he exits, making me jump in the bed. I release a relieved breath. For a second, I thought he was going to do something horrible to me. Thank heavens!

I hear someone enter the room, prompting me to lift my head to see if Nickolas returned. Instead, it's a woman, likely a water witch. Her herbal scent matches the one who attended to my wounds earlier. She sports a secure bun with her brunette hair and appears to be in her early fifties. Flicking her hazel brown eyes in my direction, she walks towards one of the two doors in the room. One must be a bathroom and the other a walk-in closet.

She returns a few minutes later, making her way to me by the bed. Extending her hands towards my legs, I instinctively move away, avoiding her touch.

"I want to help you to the bathroom," she offers, prompting my confusion.

"Why?" I question.

"Because His Majesty has requested it," she responds, seizing my legs and shifting them to the side of the bed.

“Why?" I ask again as she picks up my left hand and drapes it over her shoulders.

“On three princess,” she says, ignoring my question and lifting me off the bed. I look at her, wondering who the hell she is and what’s going on.

My legs wobble as they touch the ground. I wrap my hand around her waist for support. Ava really did a number on me. I would've fallen if she wasn't holding me.

She leads us to the door she recently exited, revealing an exquisite en-suite bathroom. The space is a masterpiece, adorned with marble floors and walls, a claw-footed bathtub, and a separate glass-enclosed shower. The vanity showcases intricate carvings and details that speak of expert craftsmanship.

Seating me on the closed toilet seat, the woman moves towards the luxurious tub. With a graceful hand, she turns off the water and utters incantations, infusing the bath with herbs retrieved from her dress pockets. Despite her plain black dress, her movements carry an air of elegance. Returning to assist me, she aids in the removal of my clothes and bandages before guiding me into the herbal-infused bath. After ensuring my comfort, she exits the bathroom.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as the warm water caresses my aching muscles. Closing my eyes, I rest my head, reflecting on the whirlwind of events that unfolded in the past hours. In the blink of an eye, my life took a drastic turn. The fate of my family hangs in the balance – if they're not already dead, my mate will stop at nothing to hunt them down and finish the job. I met a handsome stranger who helped my mate slaughter my people.

"My life is perfect," I mutter, sinking deeper into the soothing embrace of the tub.

Speaking of the incident, I wonder how the twins knew Eric. They mentioned his name, and thinking about it now, I realize their father must have betrayed us. He is in charge of patrol, and only with him failing at his job could we have been attacked. The lycan king’s huge amount of entourage would have definitely raised a red flag to his underlings on duty. I can’t believe their father would betray his own kind. I have to wonder for what because every single dead werewolf’s blood is on his hands. I pray he never gets a good night’s sleep if Nickolas even lets him live after using him.

***

Exiting the tub as the water turns cold, I'm relieved to find my legs stable beneath me. I step out of the bathroom after wrapping a towel around myself. I notice fresh clothes laid out on the bed – a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt that fit like they were made for me. If I didn’t know better, I would say they were bought with me in mind. After dressing, I wait for either Nickolas or the mysterious woman’s return, but minutes pass without any of them showing up.

Looking around the room, my eyes light up as I notice a ray of sunlight streaming through the windows. I rush over and pull the curtains wide open, letting the sunlight flood the room. Daybreak! A small smile tugs at my lips – I've never been happier to see the sun in my life. Attempting to open the windows, I find them unyielding, but that's hardly surprising. Moving away from it, I search the room for anything that might aid in breaking it. The scent of lycans lingers outside, likely guards at the door, and they are just what I need to escape.

I grab the table lamp from the nightstand, my breath coming in shallow, panicked bursts. Without hesitation, I hurl it at the window with all the strength I can muster. The glass shatters, the crash deafening in the small room, shards scattering across the floor. My heart pounds in my chest, but I don’t waste a second—I dive under the bed, pressing myself flat against the cold floorboards.

Voices immediately erupt from the hallway, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. The guards burst into the room, their movements frantic as they take in the broken window and scattered glass. Exactly as I planned.

“She's escaped!" one of them shouts, and I hear their hurried footsteps retreating.

"Quickly inform his majesty," the other one commands, his voice fading into the distance. I wait for a few minutes before cautiously emerging from under the bed.

Approaching the windows, I confirm that they fell for my trap. My mate and Eric are running in the direction I would have taken if I had exited through the window. They're accompanied by high-ranking lycan soldiers. Perfect! Just want I wanted.

I swiftly move to the door, scanning the surroundings for any signs of lycans. Finding none, I dash down the grand staircase, through the foyer, and out the wide-open door, they left behind. I sprint in the opposite direction they took. Tall trees line the path, providing cover. I run, ignoring the pain from tree branches, pricking my skin from the thorns on them. My bare feet get stabbed with little stones on the ground, but I don’t stop and continue running.

I didn’t shift because it would be easier for them to sniff me out in the air and find me. I have no plan if I manage to escape successfully, but I will figure out something once I manage to. I wonder if I would be able to find Alissa and my family. Alissa must have hidden them somewhere no one would find them. In a way, I'm happy she did, but I'm also worried it means I might never find them. Hopefully, I will.