Bloodbound to the Beastly King

SLAM!!

A glass vase shattered against the wall violently, its shards flying off. The maid fell to her knees, her body trembling with fear, tears burning in her eyes as she kept her head down.

"F-forgive me, my lord. F-forgive me-" she cried with a shaky voice, but before she could even raise her head, thick droplets of food poured over her head, covering her in the same food she'd brought.

She gasped softly but didn't dare cry out. Her trembling hands scrambled to gather the broken glass scattered across the floor.

"Forgive me, my lord," she whimpered.

"Get out." The man growled like a beast that had been locked up for decades. The maid scampered out of the room, sobbing.

Inside the room, the man paced restlessly, images of his daughters being shoved into the caravan like slaves permanently stamped in his head. He was running berserk, knowing everything he'd worked for was slowly slipping out of his grasp.

He slammed his fist against the wall, a sharp pain exploding in his already injured shoulder. He hissed in irritation and turned away, his chest heaving heavily.

Carter stood there, his chest bare except for the bandages wrapped tightly across his injuries. His wolf was unresponsive, unable to heal him as it should've. It had taken him two days, trudging through the deepest and densest parts of the forest all to finally arrive here.

The safe place he had built to house the dark Lord.

He was a mess, he knew this. He had to strengthen his wolf, he had to regain the things that had been stolen from him, and only then would he wreak havoc on Thorne and Adina.

The door creaked open behind him. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. The familiar chill in the air gave it away.

"Stop scaring the slaves," Alma's calm voice filled the room as she stepped inside. She paused, looking over the room. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes seeing the mess that was made. Who knew Councilman Carter would turn into a fragile disaster such as this?

"They're of no use to us—if they keep running away in fear. They grow pale at the mention of serving you."

Carter's jaw tightened at her voice, his shoulders stiffened. "Then tell them to stop being so useless." He snarled angrily.

Alma didn't flinch. It didn't faze her at all. She hummed dismissively, waving her fingers in the air, magic sparking from her fingertips, and in a second, the mess was gone.

"There, there, now it's all better." She murmured, mostly to herself.

She looked up only to find Carter staring at her, his orbs as dark as the soul of a demon. He was livid.

"The core…" Carter began. "You took the other half."

Alma smirked at this. "And look, just what it's been able to do, and I only have half of it. How else do you think I was able to conceal this place from the eyes of the ordinary?" She replied.

Carter wasn't listening to her. No. He was livid. Her words were nothing but dust. A witch he had brought, helped, given a purpose too had now outsmarted him…

His face grew stormier, his hand shot out, grabbing the witch by the neck, his fangs out. "How dare you betray me?" He snarled.

Alma didn't struggle in his hold, her eyes were locked on his like he wasn't squeezing every bit of air out of her body.

"Betray? Have you lost the ability to see even the things beyond your own eyes?" She spat out.

"What?"

Alma scoffed even as her face grew redder. "Underestimation. That's your biggest problem. I don't need the core to betray you if that's what I wanted, Lord Carter. I would harbor you in here if I betrayed you."

"Harbor?" Carter scoffed, pulling away from her. He ran his fingers through his hair, "I made this place. You don't harbor me in my own home, Alma." He snarled.

"Harbor or not. One thing is for certain. I wouldn't have saved you if I were the said betrayer. And for a man with this many problems, you sure do have a way of making even more enemies."

"Alma…" Carter gritted out.

"Having me turn against you isn't in your best interest, Lord Carter. Scaring the maids, the beasts, growling at them isn't in your best interest. You need every ounce of support you can get." She paused for a second, stepping closer to him. "You're a highly intelligent and skilled man, Lord Carter. A man who brought Obsidan from the ruins it was in and made it the kingdom that it is today. A man who thousands tremble before. You're not just a man, my Lord. You're second to the dark Lord."

Carter turned towards her, his jaw clenched tight the more she spoke.

"How then can a powerful man such as yourself not see it?"

His brows furrowed.

"How do you not see that the main goal of the king is turning you against those who support you…and you're letting him."

"I am not." Carter gritted out, fists clenched tight.

Alma's brows cocked up, she shrugged, motioning around the room. "Are you…really not? A second ago, this place was a mess. You've spent more time brooding in revenge that would probably never happen."

"Witch…" Carter growled lowly.

"You've done nothing but scare the slaves!" She refuted.

"Tell them to stop being so useless!" He growled, the sound echoing through the room.

Alma's eyes twitched slightly. "It's not their fault you're angry, not when you refuse to channel that rage against those who truly deserve it."

Carter's eyes turned red, anger boiling in his veins. "Watch your words, witch. Don't you dare insinuate that I, Carter, am afraid of the king."

Alma shrugged yet again. "Is it an insinuation…if it's true."

"Alma!" Carter roared angrily.

"The king has taken it all from you, and all you've done is sit here and scare the slaves." She bit back, shaking her head. "You say you're angry, but I doubt it. You aren't angry enough."

"I'm not angry enough?" Carter repeated, her words ringing in his ears. He stepped closer to her, "Thorne has taken everything from me. He's ruined my name. He has stripped me of my titles, my estate, my pack. He has taken my daughters as slaves. He has tarnished my reputation, my image, my life." He heaved heavily, his fist trembling at his sides. "And you dare say that I am not angry enough?"

Alma's expression didn't change, "No." She said firmly.

"What?"

She stepped closer, her eyes glinting. "You're not nearly as angry as you should be. Not when he, the king, has ordered the execution of Freya."

Carter froze. The air seemed to drain from the room. "What did you say?" His voice trembled.

Alma's smile didn't waver. "Freya," she purred, "He's signed her death order himself. And if that isn't cruel enough…" she paused, watching his knuckles whiten, "…he's mating Adina officially—right at this very moment."

Carter's body went rigid. Her words were ringing in his ears.

"Yes," Alma continued, circling him slowly. "While your daughter's head is marked for death. He makes another queen of Obsidan and mother of his heir. Tsk, tsk, tsk. He's building a family while tearing yours apart."

Carter stumbled back, his breath ragged. "No…"

"Now tell me, my lord—does it sound like you're angry enough?"