Romie's POV
"Move!" The guard pushed me as we walked down the hallway to where my trial awaits.
My previous encounter left a sick pit of dread lurking. Who was that man? And why couldn't I get my mind off him?
Whispers from the guard made it known he was the Alpha, my whole purpose of being in the pack. But I thought about him in ways that made my cheeks turn red.
Outside these walls, he was presumed as death, rumors had it no one ever returned alive once they faced his judgment.
I'll be damned! Murdered yet again by another egotistic, self-centered dick.
"Move," the guard pushed me again. My upper lip lifted to a scowl.
No need to delay the inevitable. With my head low, I stepped into the room with very poor lighting.
There was only one window, the walls were made of marble, and the floor unfinished.
In the middle of the room was a throne, and seated on it was the grim reaper.
I couldn't quite figure out what about him struck me as strange.
I felt a lot of emotions: anger, sadness, curiosity, fear, and a dark yearning.
Suddenly, my hand was jerked, and the sounds of keys jingled until I was released from my cuffs.
I rubbed the skin that had developed a reddish color around my wrists.
He raised his hands, and the guards left, closing the door behind them.
Leaving me alone with him.
Great, just great.
I stared at his huge figure. He was dressed casually in a white shirt that complemented his abs and biceps with plain jeans.
His dusty brown hair was messy, giving him a rugged look, with eyes so dark you could hardly tell the pupil and iris apart.
He really was the man the world described as effortlessly intimidating.
"Who are you?" he finally asked, breaking through the tension. His voice caught me off guard. I blinked back, wondering if someone spoke behind him.
His voice was so calm, gentle, deep; it was the type of melody that brought girls to their knees, not powerful Alphas.
"I don't like repeating myself," he strained his aura, more powerful than before, it made goosebumps flare on my skin.
"There is no need for formalities since my demise awaits," I spoke clearly. One thing I knew about powerful men begging only amplifies their ego.
"You got it all wrong. No one is dying today, well, at least not me," he said in a mocking tone, changing his pose.
"There is no need to act all tough, though I would commend your actions. Who would ever have thought a lady would be able to walk through my defenses for the mere fact she didn't pose a threat?"
"If you're not going to kill me, why am I here?" I asked, ignoring his claim.
"I want to talk," he said, pointing at a chair sitting in a corner. I faced back at him, cocking my brow.
"What is it that the Almighty Alpha Agi of the Seven Seas wants to talk about?"
"If you can, please sit down, then you'll find out."
"I prefer I stand."
"Fine, have it your way. What is your name?"
"Raven," I lied.
"Well, Raven, if that is your real name, you are my mate."
My foot stayed rooted at the spot as his words replayed in my mind.
'You are… my mate.'
"Sit," he pushed my shoulder, forcing me to sit in the chair.
I was so lost I barely heard when he left to bring the chair.
"That's impossible!" I yelled, rising from the chair, but the look he gave me made me sit back.
If there were any more surprises, I would need the chair for support.
"Trust me, I'm not happy about it either."
"But I don't feel anything for you. I should be able to feel the mate bond if that were true," I countered.
"How long have you been lying to yourself?" he whispered, striding in circles around me.
I could feel your restless heart all night from my quarters.
"How would you feel if it were your last night alive?"
"But your thoughts were never about yourself," he bent low, his hot breath on my neck.
"You were thinking about me all night," he whispered.
Delicately, my lids fluttered. I could hear the tiny voice within me that was struggling to be heard.
"Tell me you don't feel this," he said, touching my neck gently.
I pulled back, letting him trace his fingers on my neckline, my need for him growing stronger with each touch.
"Now, tell me what is your name."
"Ra- Romie," I succumbed to the desire.
"Romie," he chuckled slightly, caressing the side of my cheeks.
"Tell me, Romie, do you feel it?" he teased my earlobe, placing a gentle kiss by the side of my neck.
"Yes," I cried out, the pressure building within, I felt like a ticking bomb about to burst into hunger.
"Good," he said, pulling away.
My senses began to return, and I realized how pathetic I had sounded a minute ago.
"You haven't gotten your wolf yet. Is the Moon Goddess trying to mock me?" he yelled, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.
I could see the disgust in his eyes, the rejection I knew too well.
My heart ached for a moment, but I didn't care. I should be happy he didn't want me. Such a heartless man was incapable of love.
It's a mystery why the Moon Goddess would give him a mate in the first place, and worse, choose me as the victim.
"You should reject me, then," my voice betrayed my emotions. I didn't want that; if he did, it would destroy me.
Young wolves were to turn at the age of eighteen, i was twenty-two, and I had given up.
My stance in my pack dwindled after every pathetic birthday.
My sister had gotten her wolf when she was seventeen, I took it upon myself to get this mission done, trying to prove myself worthy, though I knew all the risks it portrayed.
"Trust me, I would have if I could, Romie," I had never heard anyone say my name with such grace, everything about this man affected me greatly.
"What do you mean?" I questioned.
"I can't reject you, that's unfortunately my curse. And that's why I need your help. I need you to reject me, Romie."