Page 79 of Savagely Mated

“I’m starting to understand why so many people want you dead.”

The king looks surprised at that.

“People want me dead?”

I can’t tell if he is being sarcastic, or if he is the kind of stupid that comes from being privileged for so long that you actually think all the riches you have for no reason were somehow deserved.

I remember what my mates told me, about how this man is not the real king. He sure feels like a real king to me. Taking what he wants, reveling in cruelty, developing twisted desires for more and more people, because one mate isn’t enough.

I suppose I’m being a bit hypocritical there. After all, I have three. But I didn’t choose three, and I’m certainly not looking for more. Definitely not looking to add a gross king to my roster.

“Come here,” he says. “I want to taste you.”

I take a step back. “No, thank you,” I say. “I am sure I would be too bitter for a royal palate.”

“I gave you an order,” he says. “Are you going to present yourself to me, or am I going to have to break you first?”

I look him in the eye. “I came to your attention because I killed four men…”

“Six men,” he corrects me.

“Right. Six men. And you think you can threaten me? You might have a harem full of submissive females, but I am not one of them. I was not bred or raised to bow to any authority. You may be king, but my body is my own.”

He laughs. “You think I haven’t heard a girl talk a big game before? You’re a female wolf, so yes. You can kill male humans easily, even in significant numbers. But you are no match for a wolf king.”

With that, he shifts, bursting out of all his silken finery to take his form as a vicious beast. I know what he means to do. He means to hurt me just enough to make me scared and mate-able, and then he intends to fuck me. What I want does not matter.

This is a very different proposition than it was when Einar claimed me. I wanted him. I wanted his brute strength, his rough dominance. I wanted the thrill of his possession. I want nothing whatsoever from this false king.

He is disgusting, inside and out, and the fact that he has taken his animal form against me speaks to his cowardice. It also proves what Rafe and the others told me. This is no king of Eclipse. There is not a drop of royal blood in this mongrel.

Royal wolves have distinct markings, black hoods that run over the muzzle, eyes, ears, and neck. This is just a stock standard wolf. No wonder it is illegal to shift in the palace. One look at this mangy mutt and everybody would know they’re being led by a pretender.

This, of course, means he is going to kill me. Or he should, if he is smart. Or maybe he’ll do what everybody says, lock me away in a harem I cannot escape, make it so I can never say anything to anybody.

I am the biggest idiot I have ever met. I should have listened to my mates. I should have listened to the director. I should have… I don’t know. I’ve just been so arrogant, always thinking I knew better even though I wasn’t really thinking at all. I don’t knowwhen I decided I knew anything. Or why. I just know that almost everything I have ever done is a mistake, and I’ve worked that out in the last seconds of my life as the pretender king lunges at me.

I shift and dip underneath his flying body. Fortunately I have been doing a lot of stupid things lately. That has kept me limber. And I’ve been in training to fight quite literally my entire life. I don’t think this guy has ever had a real fight. He leaves himself open on the way past and doesn’t protect his weak spots. I get a real good grip on the ruff of his neck and just start yanking hard enough to make him yelp.

If I was in my human form, I’d laugh. Pathetic.

All that shit he was talking about owning me and he doesn’t know how to take a bite. If people at the academy could see this they’d be laughing their asses off.

Any wolf of his size with any level of fighting ability would be able to hurt me. Einar had no trouble dropping me when we tussled. It wasn’t even a contest. The only thing the king has on his side is the fact that he is bigger than me, but even his weight is easy to use against him. He has momentum and the hold I now have on him makes him cartwheel head over heels.

The king’s yelp does make me tense slightly, in case his guards come rushing in. When they don’t, I realize why, and it makes me bite even harder. They’re used to pitiful sounds coming from this room. They’re used to hearing females in pain—and right now, this so-called king sounds like a little bitch. I have him right up under his jaw, so he can’t bite me back as much as he’d like to.

We roll around together, slamming into the furniture as he tries to shake me loose. Still the guards don’t come. What hellishnightmares has he put women through that this does not alert them?

I taste blood, and that blood makes me even more feral. When the threats he made flash through my animal brain, when I imagine that he threatened my potential child, told me he owned me, wanted to fuck me the same way he’s fucked dozens of other women, none of whom had the choice.

The moment I open his artery, it is over. I am suddenly bathed in hot red blood. It covers my fur in a cascade of sanguine justice, and finally, the king makes a howl so pained, and so disturbing, the guards peek their heads in.

They look at the dying king, and then at me.

“Get her!”

I know these will not be weak and ineffectual wolves. These are trained wolves. These two will tear me to pieces.

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