Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Ophelia jolted at the ferocity of the soldiers' voices. She felt her stomach lurch when she heard it. The forest was unnaturally quiet. Not even the flinch of twigs snapping or snow falling from large branches. It was calm before the storm.

Ophelia's blood thinned. She felt like cold water had been poured over her. Every inch of her body stilled. Who was here…? The second Prince of their empire? Her head spun at the very thought of someone discovering her in this auction dress. Not to mention, Ophelia could barely remember how to address the royal family—of vampires.

"Ophelia," Killorn coldly called.

Killorn captured her eyes, his expression morphing from irritation to sheer danger. Her mouth ran dry. His grip tightened on her waist, bringing her even closer to him.

"Stay put in this carriage, or so help me god."

Ophelia rapidly nodded.

Killorn grabbed the long sword resting by the carriage doors. Then, he hopped off the carriage with an elegance that wiped his background clean. Instantly, he scowled at the large white horse and the blond-haired man.

Killorn preferred to be ambushed by beasts than this vampire before him. At least monsters were predictive, this creature was not.

"Everest."

Even his name was as grand as a mountain that touched the clouds. The forest stilled at his address, not a single bird in sight, and not a deer foolish enough to graze. The moon hung low in the sky, illuminating an ethereal glow behind Everest.

"Ah, ever the handsome Alpha," Everest drawled, with humor lacing his frigid tone.

Ophelia curiously pulled back the curtains. She peeked for only a split second, but he caught her anyway. His eyes flickered to her, sharp and stealth. Her heart stopped. Her throat dry.

Handsome. Beyond. Words. This man must've been a fallen god, with his glistening red eyes, arrogant lips, and a strong nose. He smiled with the knowledge that the world was beneath his feet. Somehow, Ophelia felt he was familiar. Even more so, his beauty was no match for her husband.

"Were you heading back to your vacation estate?" Everest asked, his gaze drawing back to Killorn.

"Were you ogling someone else's property?" Killorn returned in the same sardonic manner, his stare turning sharp as a sword.

Everest let out fawn laughter, his eyes crinkling, his sharp fangs on display. In the corner of his vision, he saw a lovely lady cringe and withdraw. Oh?

"My favorite pastime," Everest effortlessly responded.

"Yes, your gaze has made many men pass out."

Everest's mouth twitched with irritation. "I don't have a preference for men."

"Sure." Killorn gave him a pointed look.

Everest narrowed his stare until they were slits. He felt a tension arise, but still lazily glanced at the armed werewolves. They were all in human form, which made him want to laugh. They were far more intimidating as half-beasts than play-pretend humans.

"Change of plans," Everest stated. "I'm afraid you'll have to cut your honeymoon short."

Killorn quirked a full brow. With each passing second, he was growing more irked. He had a wife in a large carriage where every surface was a place to ravish her. Yet, here he was, standing in the cold, getting blue-balled by this egotistical vampire.

"My father wants you back in the North, protecting the empire as the last vanguard of defense," Everest slowly said.

"My duty to the empire is finished."

"Your duty is bound by sacred treaties, Alpha," Everest continued the last part with emphasis, but not out of disrespect. Lord knows, he was not stupid enough to insult one of the most fearsome werewolves to ever grace the lands. "There is another war coming soon."

"Find another to fight your father's petty disputes," Killorn calmly returned. "I have a family to make."

"Make them wherever for all I care, but your estate must be within a one-hour distance of the empire—which is the Mavez Dukedom," Everest deadpanned. "We have a national security problem on the rise soon."

"Tell your father to learn to share," Killorn deadpanned. "I am not putting my men's lives on the line over territory issues any longer."

Everest took a step closer, his horse neighing with disagreement. Even the darn animal was scared of the wolves. At least one of them knew how the food pyramid worked.

"Unfortunately, this time, you have to learn to share," Everest murmured coldly.

"Hah," Killorn spat out in disbelief.

Everest trudged forward until his horse was directly beside the armed Killorn. He bent so low, he was a hair away from falling off his horse—much to Killorn's disappointment. He whispered quietly enough that not even the silent forest could reveal the conversation.

"They know, Killorn. Everyone does."

Killorn tugged his brows together. It took him a split second. A single, slow, curt one. Then, his heart fell. He spun around, his face filled with fury. He saw her. How could he not? She could be tucked within a crowd of women with the same color hair and eyes as her, but he'd always notice her. She was a shining beacon.

Ophelia's innocuous gaze peered back at him. Her eyes shimmered like dew on violet petals, her silver strands rivaling the finest silk.

"Impossible," Killorn responded. "I kept it under wraps."

"Clearly not enough," Everest dryly stated.

"Fuck off."The sourc𝗲 of this content nov(𝒆l)bi((n))

"I'd gladly do so, but we have a war brewing on our hands," Everest deadpanned.

Killorn gritted his teeth hard enough to shatter the pearly whites. He curled his fingers into fists, his eyes set ablaze.

"You can always abandon her," Everest stated in the softest of tones. 'And then, give her to me'. He wisely kept that part to himself. There were many things he could do with such a lovely creature as herself, but all of which, Killorn would brutally murder him for.

"I made a vow," Killorn growled.

"Tell me, which history-making man has ever kept their vows? Especially ones uttered before the sacred priests?" Everest humored.

Killorn felt every fiber in his body twitch. Those men were fools then. They had never once properly cherished their wife, he was certain of it. The second he laid Ophelia upon the bed, the minute he saw her hair sprawled, her eyes soft for him, and her chest flushed with color, he knew the vows could not be undone. He refused to fathom the idea. When she clung onto him, her cries sweet, and her tears salty, he swore to himself she'd belong to him for eternity—and he intended to uphold that promise.

Now, there were people in the world threatening the safety of his wife all because of foolish talks of her being some Direct Descendant. The status was grave. A Direct Descendant's flesh was rumored to grant immeasurable strength when consumed and their blood was able to heal even the most irreversible of wounds.

"Me," Killorn seethed.

Everest's brows shot up in disbelief. He sat back onto his horse, his curiosity drawn to the carriage again. Now, that was the problem with her, wasn't it? Wherever she went, she'd garner attention. Except, this time, she had slipped back to her seat. The curtains were no longer drawn. Pity.

"Gerald!" Killorn barked. "Beetle!"

"Alpha," Gerald responded, immediately at attention.

"Change of plans," Killorn commanded.

Gerald was on standby. Beetle straightened up, his easygoing expression melting.

"Men," Killorn addressed his soldiers. "Prepare your steeds."

The soldiers uneasily shuffled on their feet, their hands slowly raising to their heads for a salute.

"Change directions. We're going north—to the Mavez Dukedom."

Their expressions shifted. They initially thought they'd all be enjoying a warm vacation in the south, as a celebratory for their hard times in the battle.

"Get on your horses," Killorn commanded. "We're heading home—back to the Mavez Pack."