"An eye for an eye," he mutters under his breath, his gaze fixed on the woman shielding herself behind John. Unease simmers within him at the revelation that King Steffen has a mate. In all his years of service, he has come to know the king's kind as nearly impossible to please, despite the many women who have thrown themselves at him. And yet, a mere human has managed to claim what countless others could not.
Still, he feels no disappointment in this revelation, only twisted satisfaction. Having the great king's mate within his grasp is a gift he intends to savor.
Now, it is his turn to return the favor Steffen showed him a decade ago. Slowly, he will strip the flesh from her bones, relishing every moan and groan of agony as his fangs sink into her neck. Or perhaps he will grant himself the greater pleasure of making the king watch as he steals the breath from his mate, just as Steffen did to him.
"When I caught the scent, I thought it was his," he sneers, his voice laced with venom. "But instead, I find his little whore."
Every glance at her stokes the fire of his hatred. Every look urges him to rip her from existence, to end it quickly and claim his long-awaited revenge. But no, he will not rush this. Justice for his mate must be served gloriously. He has waited a decade for this moment. He can wait a little longer until the king comes searching for his mate.
"You're not getting to her," John says, his voice firm.
Teslime smirks, his steps slow and deliberate as he signals his men to surround them. He knows John is no ordinary wolf, an alpha of a renowned pack, a creature of formidable power. But Teslime is no different. He has not spent years in hiding doing nothing. He has honed his body, strengthened his wolf, and built an army of outcasts, rogues, scorned and abandoned, all for this very day.
"Okay, I'm confused. Who are they, and what do they want from us?" Ella asks, her brows furrowed.
"Who are they?" Teslime echoes mockingly. In a blur, he closes the distance between them, but before he can reach her, John shoves her aside, placing himself between them. Teslime lands on the grass but flips to his feet with effortless grace, his eyes darkening, veins bulging along his arms as a low growl rumbles from his chest.
John meets his challenge with a growl of his own.
"Let me tell you who I am!" he yells, his voice straining against the veins lining his neck. "I am that loyal servant who adored and respected his king, the soldier who fought all his battles, the right hand who shielded him from every attack. I am the man who was once honored as his Beta, the best of his warriors, the most trusted of his advisors. But..."
His voice falters, the fire in his tone extinguishing as he sinks into the depths of his past.
Year 2000
He had been right at his king's side, their feet pounding the ground as they tore through the swarm of rogues attacking the town. War had erupted after Steffen banished the rogues from the lands they once ruled. Their constant assaults and unrestrained thirst for blood had tested the king's patience beyond its limits.
Steffen had not wanted war, not so soon after the fragile peace they had managed to forge, but the rogues had left him no choice. Their reckless slaughter forced his hand, and so he commanded his army to rip their heads from their bodies. To make his decree clear, he led the charge himself, his blade and claws carving through the battlefield, his soldiers turning the land into a sea of crimson.
It was over in minutes. The moment Steffen ripped out the heart of their leader, the surviving rogues scattered, fleeing for their lives. But the king had no mercy left to spare. He turned a blind eye as his men hunted down the stragglers.
"Yet another success," Teslime said, catching his breath as Steffen extended a hand to help him up. He gripped it firmly, pride swelling in his chest as he followed his king home.
His mate welcomed him with a warm embrace, soothing the ache in his weary body.
"Thank goodness you're back safe," she murmured against his chest. But as she stepped back, her eyes narrowed in frustration. "Did you have to go?"
She scowled as she helped him out of his blood-stained clothes, the rusty scent clinging to him. "Nothing would happen if you didn't follow the king everywhere. He's immortal, unlike you. If you get killed, you're gone, Teslime."
Her words weren't new. She had voiced the same concerns a thousand times, pleading with him to stop chasing the king's every step. But no matter how often she begged, he never wavered.
It wasn't that he dismissed her concerns, he understood her fears all too well. She was terrified of losing him, of being left alone.
"Mather, you have nothing to worry about," he assured her, tilting her chin up so she would meet his gaze.
Her deep, nature-colored eyes reflected the storm in her heart. His fingers brushed through the thick strands of her hair, still neatly tied in a band. He wished he could ease her worries, but his duty would always come first. He was no coward, and his loyalty to his king was absolute.
"Someday, that king of yours will be the end of you," she whispered, resisting the warmth and peace he tried to offer her wolf.
"I'm a soldier. It is my duty to protect our people. The rogues were getting out of hand"
"And what wrong did they do?" she cut him off, her voice sharp.
He stared at her, unfazed. This wasn't the first time she had sided with the rogues. To her, they had done no wrong ,they were simply following their nature. Beasts hunted. It was their way.
"At least they are true to themselves," she spat. "While we remain caged, suppressing our wolves under the guise of peace and this so-called 'new world.'"
Bitterness laced her words. She had never accepted the king's rule, never agreed with his vision. She saw him as weak and unfit to lead. She believed they needed a ruler who would challenge the humans, who would make them fear the beasts they so carelessly slaughtered.
Humans hunted them, fed on them, wiped them out like pests. So why shouldn't they return the favor?
"Mather, this discussion is over," he snapped, his voice edged with warning.
Her outspoken defiance could bring her nothing but trouble. If the wrong ears heard her, she could be punished, or worse.
"Yes, yes," she scoffed, crossing her arms. "Stay silent, as you always do. Nothing I say ever matters to you, but his words do."
Frustration burned in her tone. She had always felt like she came second to his king. If Steffen demanded it, Teslime would cast her aside without hesitation. That was the burden she carried, the knowledge that, no matter how much he loved her, she would never come first.
....
"With all my years of loyalty, he still ripped her heart out and tossed her away like she was nothing," Teslime spits, his voice raw with bitterness. His eyes, shadowed by the ghosts of his past, glisten with unshed tears. He remembers it too vividly, the way he stood there, helpless, as his king discarded her lifeless body into the cold mud.
Loud and clear, Steffen had declared her fate a warning, an example to all who dared to question his rule.
"That doesn't make sense," Ella says, her brows knitting together in disbelief. "I know he's not human, but I also know he's not a fool who kills without reason."
She shakes her head, certain that a crucial part of the story is missing. From what she has seen, Steffen is no monster. She has witnessed him extend kindness, helping a woman who had slipped, brushing off a servant's mistake when she spilled wine on him. If he were truly the tyrant Teslime paints him as, he would have walked past the woman without a glance and punished the servant without hesitation.
"You're forgetting something," John interjects, his voice firm. "Your mate, Mather, broke the king's law, she killed a human. Not only that, she challenged him to a duel."
Teslime's jaw tightens. John continues, his words striking like daggers.
"That night, after she ventured into the city and took a human's life, she was brought in for questioning. Instead of defending herself, she defied the king, challenged him in front of everyone. You already know how that ended." John continues, digging wounds that are yet to heal.
Steffen had ripped out her heart, letting it rot as a grim reminder to all who thought to defy him.
"Your mate, Mather, forced the king's hand."
Perhaps that is true. But it doesn't change the fact that Steffen ignored his pleas. That night, Teslime had begged, had thrown away every shred of pride, had gotten down on his knees, to spare her life. Yet his king had turned a deaf ear.
If nothing else, shouldn't years of loyalty have been enough to grant her mercy?
"He should have spared her," Teslime says, his voice rising with fury. "For my sake."
"Is that why you attacked him?"
Did they expect him to remain loyal? To bow in gratitude?
Of course, he had sought vengeance. His heart had been consumed with rage, but his mistake had been his arrogance, thinking he could take on the king, despite knowing his strength.
He had walked into Steffen's chambers in silence, gripping a steel blade, and shoved it deep into his chest.
Useless.
The blade had done nothing. It couldn't penetrate his immortal body.
Steffen had spared his life but had cast him out of the pack.
Like a traitor.
Like a savage.
Teslime had been forced to walk away under the scornful gazes of those who once admired him. The same wolves who had once looked upon him with respect now watched in shame and dishonor.
Out in the wilderness, he had no choice but to join the very rogues he had spent years hunting. He had become their leader. And with time, he had gathered an army of those who, like him, had been cast aside by Steffen and his council.
Steffen's mistake had been letting him live.
"Seize the girl and kill him," Teslime commands, turning his back as he strides toward his waiting Jeep.
From his seat at the front, he watches as his men attack.
Ella reacts instantly. She dodges the first rogue who lunges at her and throws a solid punch.
"Don't they have a weakness?" she shouts, knocking another back with a sharp kick to the ribs.
John watches, unimpressed, as she suddenly lifts her knee between a rogue's legs.
"Oof," he winces, instinctively feeling the man's pain. But then, his lips curl into a smirk.
"What exactly are you doing?" he asks, amused.
" Defending myself!" she snaps, swinging a kick at another rogue. "How do you kill them?"
She throws him a desperate look. These aren't normal men, her hits barely make an impact. No matter how hard she strikes, they rise again, unfazed. If this keeps up, she won't last.
"You do nothing," John tells her bluntly. "They aren't your match. Fighting them will only get you killed."
His pupils dilate into an eerie white glow. His skin ripples as thick white fur bursts through, spreading over his body. Within a blink, he has shifted into his massive wolf form.
Ella stumbles back, giving him space as he charges into the rogues. His fangs sink deep into the nearest wolf's throat, silencing its growl with a strangled gurgle. One by one, he takes them down, swift and merciless.
Teslime gestures subtly, and from the shadows of the forest, a towering figure emerges.
The wolf is twice the size of John's.
It lunges.
John counters, their fangs clashing in a brutal battle of strength and dominance.
And in that moment of distraction..
Teslime strikes.
In a flash, he seizes Ella, yanking her by the waist. Before she can scream, they disappear into the depths of the woods, his men vanishing behind him.
His voice echoes back to John.
"Tell your king to come find me by sundown... or his mate die
Just a moment on Teslime departure with his army, Steffen shows up, his eyes fill with fury as he looks at John's fallen wolf.
"Where is she?" Steffen's voice comes out rough, his grip tightening around John's wolf neck. His breath is heavy, but his ears refuse to take in the wolf's silent message.
"Teslime," John finally forces out, the name laced with bitterness.
Steffen's jaw clenches. This time, Teslime's life won't be spared.
His mate is no one's to take