KILLIAN'S POV
The mate bond is a chain—a suffocating shackle made by the moon goddess herself. I fucking hate it.
The idea that I, Alpha Killian, am bound to an omega is beyond an insult—it's a disgrace.
Mates are supposed to be equals, someone strong enough to stand beside me, not a weak little thing meant to grovel at my feet. An omega? The lowest of the low. A fragile, helpless creature that should have been born to serve, not to rule beside an Alpha. It's laughable. It's infuriating.
But what enrages me more than anything is that Layla refuses to break.
Every order I give, she follows. Every challenge I set, she endures. There's no pleading, no begging, no fear flashing in her eyes. Just quiet determination. It irritates me, scratches at the inside of my skull like claws dragging against stone. I should want nothing more than to ignore her, to let her rot in the background of my life. But I can't.
Because she won't let me.
I lay back against silk sheets. The soft scent of perfume and sweat is thick in the air. A naked girl—dark-haired, curvy, with a smirk that's as confident as it is seductive—trails her fingers along my chest. Another, blonde presses a kiss against my neck.
"Come on, Alpha," the brunette coos. "One more round."
I smirk lazily, dragging a hand through her hair, tugging just enough to make her gasp. "Insatiable, aren't you?"
The blonde giggles, brushing her lips against my jaw. "You wouldn't want to disappoint us, would you?"
I chuckle, shifting to pin one beneath me. The other rests against my back. It's easy to lose myself in them, in the warmth of their skin, the way their bodies writhe beneath my touch. It's easy to drown in anything but the fucking bond that refuses to fade.
But no matter how many women I take to bed, no matter how many distractions I bury myself in, that damn thread still tugs in the back of my mind. Always pulling. Always there.
Layla.
She's a stain I can't scrub out. And I fucking hate her for it.
Which is why, the next morning, I decide to give her an impossible task. If she wants to play this game, I'll show her just how outmatched she is.
I find her in the training yard running errands. She's not strong, not in the way an Alpha female should be. But she's stubborn, and that's what makes this so infuriating.
"You want to prove yourself?" I say to her. She looks at me with a confused expression but I don't stop "Fine. Carry buckets of water up the north tower. Fill the basin at the top. Every last drop."
The warriors around us go silent. The north tower is the tallest in the castle, a climb of hundreds of long complicated steps. Even my best men would struggle to do it in a single day.
Layla doesn't even flinch. She wipes the sweat from her brow, looks me in the eye, and nods. "Alright Alpha"
I scoff, stepping closer. "Alright?"
She meets my gaze head on "I said alright."
My jaw tightens. "You're not even going to argue?"
"Do you want me to?" There's no sarcasm in her tone, no challenge—just a quiet sort of determination that makes my skin crawl.
"You should be scared," I snap. "You should be begging for something else, something easier. You do realize this is impossible, don't you?"
"I can do it."
Her confidence is infuriating. "You're weak."
Her lips twitch, almost like she's holding back a laugh. "Then this should be easy for you to watch, shouldn't it?"
I step closer, towering over her "You're going to regret this."
She tilts her chin up. "We'll see."
I don't realize I'm clenching my fists until she turns away, walking toward the well, as if the conversation is already over. As if my words don't weigh on her like they should. As if I'm the one who's wasting my breath.
My teeth grind together.
Fine. Let her try. Let her break herself against this task. And when she fails, when she finally collapses in exhaustion, gasping for breath, pleading for mercy—I'll be there to remind her of exactly what she is.
Nothing.
And this time, she won't have the strength to deny it.
I will break her. One way or another.
Layla doesn't hesitate. She grips the heavy iron buckets. Her small hands are barely able to wrap around the handles. The water inside sloshes dangerously close to spilling over. It should be impossible.
But she doesn't falter.
I watch as she takes her first step up the tower. Her muscles strain beneath her ragged dress. She doesn't beg. Doesn't whimper. Doesn't even look at me. Her silence makes my blood burn.
Hours pass. I should be bored by now, but I'm not.
She should have collapsed already.
Her feet drag, but she keeps going. The buckets should have crushed her fragile bones under their weight. But they haven't. The force of her will is unnatural. Irritating. Infuriating.
Fine. If she won't break, I'll make her.
I summon an audience. Warriors, nobles, servants—they all gather to watch. I want them to see her fall. To witness her humiliation. Whispers spread through the crowd.
"She'll give out any second now."
"She has to."
"She's just an omega."
I remain silent, arms crossed. My eyes are focused on Layla as she struggles. She's drenched in sweat. Her chest heaves with every ragged breath. But those eyes... they still hold that same stubborn fire. The fire I refuse to acknowledge. The fire that makes something dark stir inside me, something dangerous.
She should not have made it this far.
Yet, step by agonizing step, she ascends. The weight of the buckets drags her down, but she doesn't let go. Her body shakes with exhaustion. Her legs barely hold her up. My men smirk, waiting for her to crumble.
She doesn't.
By the time she reaches the top, she's trembling, soaked in sweat, strands of hair clinging to her face. Her breathing is ragged. But she is still standing.
A thick silence falls over the crowd. No one speaks. No one dares.
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache. This isn't normal. She isn't normal.
My fists tighten at my sides as I turn sharply and leave. I don't want to see her anymore. I don't want to see those damn eyes.
-
That night, I sit in my room, lost in thought. Layla should have failed. It should have been impossible.
"There's something wrong with her," I say.
Kaiden sits across from me with his arms folded "We need to push harder."
I exhale slowly, running a hand through my hair. My wolf snarls in my head, restless, hungry. My patience is running thin.
Layla may have endured today, but she won't win. She can't.
I'll break her.
One way or another, I'll make her fall.