Marked By The Monster: The Lycan King's Bride

Eloise POV:

The Central Administration Center was neutral ground. It was a sleek glass building where wolf law met human bureaucracy.

I sat in the private waiting room, checking my watch. Twenty-nine minutes.

Had I made a mistake? Alphons Woodward was a myth, a nightmare used to scare pups into behaving. He didn't do blind dates. He destroyed packs.

The elevator chimed.

The air in the room changed instantly. The oxygen seemed to be sucked out, replaced by a heavy, oppressive pressure. This was Aura.

The doors slid open.

He walked in, and my world tilted on its axis.

He was huge. Over six and a half feet tall, with broad shoulders that strained against his charcoal suit. His hair was dark as a raven's wing, and his eyes...

His eyes were liquid gold.

When his gaze locked onto mine, I didn't just see him. I smelled him.

It hit me like a physical wave. Rain on hot asphalt. Deep, ancient pine forests. And something smoky, like a wood fire in winter.

Mate.

My inner wolf screamed it. She didn't just growl; she howled, clawing at my ribs, desperate to get to him.

Alphons froze mid-step. His nostrils flared. A low rumble started in his chest, a sound so primal it made the glass table vibrate.

He crossed the room in two strides.

I stood up, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

He stopped inches from me. The heat radiating from his body was intense. He reached out, his large hand hovering near my face.

"Mine," he growled.

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact. A decree.

"Yours," I whispered, the word slipping out before I could stop it.

His fingers brushed my cheek.

Zap.

A shockwave of static electricity snapped between us, loud enough to hear. My knees buckled. He caught me, his arm wrapping around my waist like a steel band.

The touch was intoxicating. It felt like coming home after a long, cold war.

"You are the latent one?" he asked, his voice rough, as if he was restraining a beast. "Bowers' daughter?"

"I was," I managed to say, drowning in his scent. "Now, I am just Eloise."

"No," he said, pulling me flush against his hard chest. "Now, you are Eloise Woodward."

He didn't ask for explanations. He didn't ask about Holden. He turned to the stunned clerk sitting behind the glass partition.

"Papers," Alphons barked.

The clerk scrambled, dropping a pen in his haste. "Y-yes, Alpha King. Right away."

We signed the documents in a daze. My hand shook as I wrote my name next to his. The ink was barely dry before he took the paper, folded it, and placed it in his pocket.

"The marking," he murmured, leaning down to sniff the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. "I want to claim you. Now."

My breath hitched. "Not here. Not like this."

He pulled back, his golden eyes swirling with lust and violence. He took a deep breath, visibly reigning in his wolf.

"Patience," he muttered to himself. "She is not prey."

He took my hand. "Come. We go to your home. You will pack."

"My home?"

"You live with me now," he said simply. "The Bowers Pack is no longer your concern."

We drove to my private villa on the outskirts of the territory in his matte black SUV. The silence wasn't awkward; it was charged, heavy with unspoken promises.

When we arrived, I saw a familiar car in the driveway.

Holden.

He was banging on my front door. He looked disheveled, frantic.

"Eloise! Open this damn door!" he shouted.

Alphons growled low in his throat. I put a hand on his arm.

"Let me," I said. "I need to do this."

Alphons looked at me, assessing. Then he nodded. "I will be right behind you."

I stepped out of the car.

Holden spun around. "Finally! Where have you been? I've been calling you for an hour!"

He marched toward me, ignoring the massive figure emerging from the driver's side.

"Jaidyn is sick, Eloise. Really sick. The healers say she needs blood from a compatible donor to stabilize her wolf. You have the same blood type. You need to come with me."

I stared at him. The audacity was breathtaking.

"You left me at the altar," I said, my voice cold. "And now you want my blood for your mistress?"

"She's not a mistress! She's family!" Holden yelled. He tried to use his Alpha Voice on me. "I command you to get in the car!"

It was a pathetic attempt. His voice washed over me like a weak breeze. It had no power.

"No," I said.

"What did you say?" He stepped closer, raising a hand as if to grab me.

A shadow fell over him.

Alphons stepped into the light. He didn't speak. He simply released a fraction of his Aura.

The air crushed down. Holden choked, his eyes bulging. He stumbled back, his knees hitting the pavement.

"Brother," Alphons said. The word sounded like a curse.

Holden paled. "Alphons? What... what are you doing here?"

"Collecting my wife," Alphons said.

Holden looked between us, confusion warring with fear. "Wife? But... Eloise is my..."

"Your what?" Alphons took a step forward. "You rejected her. You abandoned her. You left a diamond in the mud to chase a piece of glass."

Alphons wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. The scent of him—power and pine—washed away the smell of Holden’s desperation.

"Get off my property," I told Holden. "I am not your fiancée. I am not your donor. And if you ever try to command me again, I will rip your throat out."

I didn't know where the violence came from. Maybe it was the King beside me. Maybe it was the wolf waking up inside.

Holden scrambled to his feet, terrified. "You're making a mistake, Eloise! She's dying!"

"Then let her die," I said, turning my back on him.

I walked toward the door, Alphons at my side. I felt a thrill of dark satisfaction.

But as I keyed in the code, I didn't see the look on Holden’s face. It wasn't just fear anymore. It was the twisted, desperate look of a man who had nothing left to lose.