Marked By The Alpha, Mated To His Brother

Winter's POV:

I can't feel the ground.

I can barely feel myself at all.

Alpha Keon's arms are a vice-like grip holding me steadily in place, his bicep hard and warm. Despite the strike behind us, dozens of screams breaking out all around us, all I think about is how good this feels. How right being in his arms feels.

He looks down at me.

His eyes. Up close, they look alive, like his irises are moving, like some sort of live wallpaper. They burn into me like they recognise something I don't. My back pulses, hot enough for my vision to blur at the edges.

He bends down so his breath fans my ears. He licks my ear and I shiver, but the move is so fast it's like he barely moved at all.

"You're mine."

His words are lower than a whisper, meant for only my hearing, and something in me resonates with them. "Keon..." I have no explanation for why I just called his name, but I blame it on the building migraine in the back of my skull.

"Easy streghetta" Did he just call me little witch in Italian? His grip on my waist tightens. "I've got you." Goosebumps spread up my back.

I should be screaming at him, clawing at him for taking a part of me without my wish. Instead I lean into his touch. Too many things are happening at once. It's all coming back.

Ari's scream. Mother's shout. Voices. So many voices. They're overlapping each other, grating against my nerves awfully. My magic is twisting painfully inside me, misfiring, mixing into something that feels a lot like him.

Keon turns quickly. "Move."

The chaos quiets immediately, the crowd splitting in half. He carries me towards the door he came from, my failing eyesight catching Ari's worry and Mother's fear. No one says anything in disagreement. No one tries to stop him.

The thing I see before everywhere goes dark is tanned hands holding on to the still glowing staff.

It's Derrick, and he's smiling, his canines on display.

The last thing I feel is fear. Our eyes meet.

I pass out.

I woke up in a panic.

Normally, witches rarely dream. Unlike humans that sometimes have sleep induced visions, we witches are more or less in a dull fog that we forget about the moment we open our eyes.

This time, I'm dreaming.

I'm on a huge ship, in the pouring rain. Voices are arguing. My head is spinning. Unable to focus on anything with the way the ship sways left to right. The ship sways a little too much to the right and I fall right into the water.

Witches have never been good with water. That's for mermaids. I can't swim, my arms feel heavier than stone. I try to scream but my voice is gone. My body sinks deeper into the ocean floor, and I drown.

I carry my fear into the real world, my body covered with sweat. My arms are shaking, my chest aching as I try to calm myself. Air burns in my lungs as I breathe, like I've run a mile. My nose picks up on the smell of pine, forest and wolf.

I'm not the chapel.

The ceiling above me is made of several precious gemstones around on carved stone. Dim lights flicker from the lanterns above me. I'm lying on something soft. And warm. Really warm.

I sit up, freezing. It's him. Keon is sitting beside me, watching me.

He's calmer now. Looking less like Zeus and more like a man, and that deception is scary in itself. His elbows are propped up beside him, studying me closely.

"You're awake." He says.

"Where am I?" My throat is scratchy. I could really use some water right now. Koen gets up, walking towards the table. He grabs the water and throws it at me. I use my magic to stop it. He nods in approval at me leaving me confused. "You're in my quarters."

My fingers stop opening the bottle. Panic rises in my chest. "Koen, why am I here?" His eyes flicker to my neck, just for a second, before he replies. "Because you're not safe anywhere else."

My laugh is weak and tired. "Yeah right. You interrupted my wedding. I'm pretty sure "safe" left the room when you walked in."

The corner of his mouth twitches. It's not a smile nor is it a frown. It confuses me.

"That wedding was never going to happen." He lays beside me.

I sit up. "You don't get to decide that."

"Already did streghetta."

A heavy charged silence engulfs us. I finally address the huge elephant in the room. "Why did you mark me Koen?" His jaw tightens. He traces my skin delicately. He's careful not to touch the mark. "I didn't mean to."

I raise my brow. "Yeah right. And you expect me to believe that?"

He sighs. "No. But it doesn't matter anyways. The moon chose you."

A cool breeze passes by. What does that mean?

His eyes have darkened, his eyes looking more alive than ever. It looks like something passed through it.

"It means..." he says quietly, "That no matter how many treaties your people sign or who you marry..."

Our eyes meet.

You were never going to belong to anyone else. Anyone other than me.