Ruthless Alpha, and his Curvy Saint-Chapter 66

Lyra’s POV

The throne room was more impressive than Lord Merrick’s. More impressive than any room I’d ever seen in my life.

Massive pillars held up a ceiling so high it disappeared into shadow. Wall Tapestries showed the drawings of battles and celebrations and pack history. Torches blazed in iron sconces, creating dancing shadows.

And at the far end, elevated on a dais was a large throne.

With someone sitting in it.

I squinted, trying to see clearly across the vast distance.

That face. Those features.

Is that Lord Merrick?

But where was the Alpha? The scarred man who’d ridden at the front of our procession?

Gareth’s voice cut through my confusion. "I’ve carried out my duty, Alpha."

He bowed once, then turned and left, his footsteps retreating in the massive space.

Alpha?

He called him Alpha?

We stood there in awkward silence. Father, Sera, and me, lined up like criminals awaiting judgment.

I wanted to ask what was going on. Wanted to demand answers.

But the weight of this place, the authority radiating from that throne - it kept me silent.

Finally, Father spoke up, his courage overriding his fear.

"What’s going on?" he asked carefully. "Lord Merrick... are you also the Alpha?"

The man on the throne said nothing.

Then an older man entered from a side door, carrying what looked like tools wrapped in cloth.

"Alpha Terrell," the old man said, bowing. "I’ve arrived with the materials you requested."

Terrell.

He just called him Terrell.

Not Merrick. Terrell.

My mind was racing, trying to make sense of it.

The scarred man was the Alpha. His name was Alpha Terrell. But this man looked exactly like Uriel - Lord Merrick’s brother.

Unless...

Oh God.

Oh no.

Angel. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Angel, who trusted Uriel. Who has spoken so fondly of him. Who thought he was a kind warrior with no connection to the monster Alpha.

If this was Uriel sitting on that throne, being called "Alpha Terrell"...

"Come forward," the man on the throne commanded.

That voice.

I knew that voice.

Not Merrick’s warm, flirtatious tone.

Uriel’s. The one that had outrightly rejected me at the river. The one that had made it clear I wasn’t his type, and had threatened to kill me if I ever tried to harmed Angel.

"Uriel?" I breathed, the word escaping before I could stop it.

His eyes met mine for just a second.

No confirmation. No denial. Just a look that said yes, and you’ll keep quiet about it if you’re smart.

Then he continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

"Zach, a renowned merchant and a father," he said formally. "You and your daughters seek to join the Black Wolf pack. Is this correct?"

"Y... yes, Alpha," Father stammered.

"Before I grant that request, you must understand what it means to be part of this pack. What is expected. What will be demanded of you."

He stood, descending from the throne with movements that were purely predatory and scary.

"Do you swear to uphold the laws of the Black Wolf pack above all others?"

"We do, Alpha."

"Do you swear to defend this pack with your lives if called upon?"

"We do, Alpha."

"Do you accept that any crime committed against the pack will be punished according to our laws, which may include exile or death?"

A chill ran down my spine.

"We do, Alpha."

"Do you accept that the Alpha’s word is absolute law within pack boundaries?"

"We do, Alpha."

He continued with more questions - about loyalty, about duty, about accepting our place in the pack hierarchy. Each question required our affirmation, our verbal agreement to surrender certain freedoms in exchange for pack protection.

It was nothing like the ceremony I’d imagined as a child.

This was a contract. Binding and absolute.

When he was satisfied with our answers, he gestured to the old man - the Beta, I realized - who approached carrying something that glowed red-hot.

A branding iron.

Shaped like a wolf’s head.

"The mark of Black Wolf," the Alpha - Uriel - whoever he was - said. "Will be placed on your backs. Between your shoulder blades. Where it can be easily seen by other werewolves. It will identify you as members of this pack. Protected. But also accountable."

Father went first.

The Beta pressed the brand against his back. I heard the sizzle of burning flesh, saw Father’s face contort with pain, smelled the awful scent of cooked skin.

But he didn’t scream. Just gritted his teeth and endured.

Then Sera. She did scream - a short, sharp sound before she managed to stifle it.

Then me.

The pain was unlike anything I’d experienced. White-hot. All-consuming. Like someone had pressed the sun itself against my back.

I didn’t scream.

But tears streamed down my face, and my knees nearly buckled.

When it was done, when we all bore the mark of the black wolf permanently scarred into our flesh, the Alpha handed Father a leather-bound book.

"The constitution of the Black Wolf pack," he said. "Read it. Learn it. Follow it. Any violation will result in punishment as outlined within."

Father took the book with shaking hands.

"Now," the Alpha continued, his tone dismissive, "you may go. A guide will show you to housing in the lower village. You’ll be expected to contribute to the pack according to your skills and abilities."

That was it.

We were dismissed.

Just like that. Like he wanted us gone in a hurry.

Father turned to leave, Sera following close behind, her hand pressed against her back where the burn still throbbed.

I started to follow.

Then stopped.

No.

I can’t leave. Not yet.

Angel doesn’t know. She has no idea what she’s walking into.

I let Father and Sera get ahead, walking slowly, falling behind.

When we reached the corridor outside the throne room, I glanced back.

The guards were looking elsewhere.

I slipped into a side passage I’d noticed on the way in.

I have to warn her.

Somehow, I have to tell Angel the truth before it’s too late.

Because the man she thought was Uriel - the kind warrior who’d promised to protect her -

He was Alpha Terrell.

The monster who’d killed her family.

And she was about to find out in the worst possible way.

Hold on, Angel, I thought desperately, searching for a way back to the upper floors. Just hold on. I’m coming.