Page 25 of My Fated Mate

Kain scoffs, but the amusement has vanished from his eyes, replaced by a dawning comprehension. "What do you mean?" he spits.

Thorne doesn't reply. Instead, he raises his voice as it echoes through the hall. "Men of the Dark Luna! You will stand down and return to your territory. This is no concern of yours."

A ripple of unease passes through Kain's men, their eyes darting nervously between the two Alphas.

They clearly sense the power emanating from Thorne, a power that demands obedience.

Kain, however, seems unfazed. "Who are you to give me orders?" he bellows, his hand tightening possessively on my arm.

But before Kain can react, Thorne's eyes flash with an icy intensity.

"By theUrka, you trespass on foreign soil," he booms, his voice echoing through the hall. "Stand down and return to Dark Luna lands. This matter does not concern your pack."

The word "Urka" hangs heavy in the air, a primal word whispered through generations, a term signifying the ancient law established by the first werewolf king.

It speaks of respect for territorial boundaries and the dire consequences of transgression.

Kain's men exchange nervous glances. The weight of the Urka is not something to be trifled with. Even Kain seems momentarily stunned.

The bravado falters, replaced by a flicker of fear in his eyes. The grip on my arm loosens, his swagger crumbling under the force of Thorne's alpha authority, backed by the power of the ancient law of Urka.

A strangled gasp escapes Kain's lips. His face contorts in fear and fury, and he drops my arm altogether. Cowed by the sudden display of power, his men begin to back away.

Urka is a word used only by people related to the werewolf king or people with very high status.

Who is he?

With a final glare at Thorne, Kain turns and stalks out of the hall, his men following like frightened pups. The silence that descends is thick with tension, broken only by the sound of the heavy oak doors groaning shut.

Before I can even thank Thorne, he abruptly excuses himself from the table. His face is unreadable, just a stony mask.

Confused and worried, I watch him stride out of the dining hall. His abrupt departure leaves a hollow ache in my chest.

I want to understand, to know what he is thinking, what he is feeling.

Catching Finn's eye across the room, I see him gesture subtly toward the direction Thorne had disappeared. Then, Finn makes a motion with his hand.

Calm down, give him time.

Chapter 7

THORNE

My paws pound a furious rhythm against the forest floor, the trees blurring into a green and brown kaleidoscope. Frustration, raw and primal, burns through me.

Elowen.

Betrothed.

To another wolf.

My growl deepens, and I howl my anger into the forest air, the sound carrying for miles and miles.

I didn't just find my mate, the woman who ignites my soul and sets my wolf howling—I found someone promised to another.

The possessive growl that erupts from my throat is as much a warning to any creature foolish enough to cross my path as it is an expression of the anger coursing through me.

Kain.

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