Lauretta’s pov My legs nearly gave out the second my feet touched the cold floor.
Pain shot up my spine and my head pounded worse than before.
The drip stand rattled as I grabbed it for support.
I was still weak.
So weak.
But the image of my mother locked in some dark cell kept pushing me forward.
I pulled the needle from my hand with shaking fingers.
Blood welled up but I ignored it.
I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders like a cloak and forced myself toward the door.
Every step hurt.
My muscles trembled.
The corridor outside stretched long and empty.
Soft lights glowed along the stone walls but they only made my vision swim.
I did not know where his office was.
I had never been allowed to wander freely.
I turned left, then right, then left again.
The halls all looked the same.
My breath came short and sharp.
Sweat beaded on my forehead even though the air was cool.
Twice I had to stop and lean against the wall just to keep from falling.
A guard stood at the end of one corridor, spear in hand, eyes forward.
When he saw me he stiffened.
“My lady—you should not be out of bed.
The doctor—” I cut him off, voice rough but firm.
“I am the Luna of this pack.
You will take me to the King.
Now.” He hesitated.
His eyes flicked over my bare feet, the thin nightdress, the blood on my hand.
“That is an order,” I said, louder.
“As his wife and your Luna I command you to take me to him.” Something in my tone must have reached him.
He gave a short bow.
“Yes, Luna.” He turned and began walking.
I followed, using the wall for support whenever my legs threatened to buckle.
The journey felt endless.
Every staircase was a battle.
My head spun.
Flashbacks of the kidnapping still tried to drag me under but I pushed them away.
Only one thought mattered—my mother and Lennox locked away because of him.
At last the guard stopped before a set of heavy wooden doors.
He knocked once.
“Enter.” The voice on the other side was cold and familiar.
Malachi.
The guard opened the door and stepped aside.
I walked in on unsteady legs, the blanket still clutched around me.
The office was large, maps spread across the desk, a fire burning low in the hearth.
Malachi sat behind the desk, dark wine in his hand.
He looked up.
For a moment surprise flickered across his face, then it vanished, replaced by that cruel, mocking smile I hated.
“Well,” he said, leaning back in his chair.
“Look what the night dragged in.
Shouldn’t you still be unconscious, little wife?
Or did the nurse forget to drug you properly?” I stood there shaking, both from weakness and from the rage boiling under my skin.
“Release them.” He raised one thick eyebrow.
“Release who?” “My mother.
And Lennox.
You had them dragged here in chains.
I know what you did.
Let them go”.
Malachi set the wine down slowly.
He stood, walking around the desk with that same measured, predatory calm.
He stopped a few feet from me, looking down at my bare feet, the blood on my hand, the way I still needed the doorframe to stay upright.
“You could barely walk here and yet you come demanding things from me.” He laughed once, low and sharp.
“How adorable.
The broken southern girl thinks she has a voice.” “I am not broken,” I spat.
“And I am not asking.
I am telling you.
Release them.” He stepped closer.
The scent of him—sandalwood and arrogance—filled the space between us.
“Or what, Lauretta?
What will you do if I refuse?” His voice dropped, cruel and soft.
“You are my wife.
You must submit to me.
You forget, Lauretta, that you are under my rule.
Every breath you take belongs to the North.
Your mother.
Your precious ex-boyfriend.
Even that stubborn little spine of yours.
All of it is mine to do with as I please.” My hands curled into fists inside the blanket.
Tears burned at the corners of my eyes but I refused to let them fall.
“They have nothing to do with Gerald.
My mother only tried to protect me.
Lennox—” “Lennox.” He repeated the name like it tasted foul.
“The man who once touched what is mine.
Do you still dream of him, wife?
Is that why you look so desperate?” “Stop it.” “No.” He reached out and gripped my chin, forcing my face up.
His fingers were hard.
“You came here half-dead to beg for them.
So beg properly.
Tell me why I should free the woman who wrote secret letters about your bloodline and the man who once thought he could have you.” My voice cracked.
“Because I am asking you.
Because if you hurt them I will never forgive you.” He smiled, slow and cold.
“Forgiveness is not something I require from you.” I felt the last of my strength draining.
My knees threatened to give.
Still I stayed on my feet.
“Please.” The word tasted like ash.
“I will do anything.
Just let them go.” Silence stretched.
Malachi’s eyes darkened.
He released my chin but did not step back.
His gaze dragged down my body, over the thin nightdress, the blanket slipping from one shoulder, the places where bruises still marked my skin.
“Anything?” he repeated.
I swallowed.
The pounding in my head mixed with the frantic beat of my heart.
“Yes.
Anything you want.” He leaned in until his mouth was close to my ear.
His voice was low, almost gentle, and somehow more dangerous for it.
“Then I want your body, Lauretta.” The words hung between us like a blade.
My breath caught.
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, waiting for the moment the meaning fully sank in.
The words hung between us like a blade.
My breath caught.
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, waiting for the moment the meaning fully sank in.
Fear slid down my spine cold and sharp.
My stomach twisted.
I could still feel the weakness in my legs, the ache in every muscle, And now he wanted this.
Wanted me.
Not as a wife.
Not as a partner.
Just as something to take.
“No,” I whispered at first, the word small and useless.
Then louder.
“Not that.
Anything else.
I’ll stay in the lower cells with them if you want.
I’ll serve in the kitchens.
I’ll never speak again.
Just… not my body.” Malachi’s mouth curved into that same cruel smile.
He stepped even closer until the heat of him pressed against the thin fabric of my nightdress.
One hand braced on the doorframe beside my head, trapping me without even touching me yet.
“You offered anything,” he said, voice low.
“Did you think I would ask for something soft?
Something easy?” He leaned in, breath brushing my ear.
“There is no fun in breaking an unwilling person, Lauretta.
Any man can take what is not freely given.
But there is fun in breaking her in when she comes to him willingly.
I have never forced a woman to my bed.
I will not start with my own wife.
You will walk to me.
You will open for me.
You will give me what I want because you chose it… to save them.” My throat closed.
Tears spilled over, I hated him in that moment more than I had ever hated anyone.
I hated the way my body still trembled from weakness, hated that he could smell the fear on me, hated that he was right—I had said anything.
“Please,” I tried again, voice cracking.
“There has to be something else.
He shook his head once, slow and final.
“This is the price.
Your body, freely given, for their freedom.
Your mother walks out of the lower cells.
Lennox walks with her.
They return to the North under my protection, unharmed.
Or they remain where they are… and I make sure they understand exactly why.” The room felt smaller.
The fire in the hearth suddenly too loud.
I could picture my mother’s face, the quiet strength she always carried, now locked behind iron.
I could picture Lennox in the dark cell.
My shoulders shook.
The blanket slipped further down one arm.
I stared at the floor, at my bare feet on the cold stone, at the small smear of blood from where I had ripped the needle out.
“If I… if I agree,” I said, the words tasting like poison, “you swear they leave tonight.
Unharmed.
Both of them.” “I swear it.” Silence stretched again, thick and heavy.
My heart hammered so hard I thought it might break through my ribs.
Every instinct screamed at me to run, to fight, to spit in his face.
But the image of my mother in the dark would not leave me.
I lifted my eyes to his.
The tears kept falling but my voice, when it came, was steady enough.
“Then… I accept.”
Give me more motivation!