Capturing Her: The Tyrant Alpha King's Slave is Mine

Valeria's POV

My heart roared in my chest as my feet crushed the dry leaves covering the ground, each step taking me closer to Zarek, the Alpha I was supposed to marry. My father's arm, linked with mine, was like steel, holding me steady and guiding me toward a commitment sealed when I was still a pup.

It was a pact. The firstborn of each pack leader was to unite in marriage, which would seal the commitment to peace between both packs and increase our power, thereby intensifying our strength.

I lifted my face, watching Zarek standing before Ralph, the old wolf patriarch of the packs.

My fiancé wore a serious expression, without a single hint of a smile. He was like that most of the time, showing no emotion at all. I pressed my lips together, holding my breath. Zarek was handsome.

It was too easy to fall in love with him. Handsome, strong, and an Alpha, desired by all the females in the pack.

"I'm handing over my firstborn to you, as per the pact sealed many years ago," my father, Alpha Tristan said, making himself heard through the rows of wooden benches, so all the wolves could witness.

Alpha Francis, Zarek's father took a step forward, analyzing my figure from top to bottom, with a crease in the middle of his forehead. "Indeed, a beautiful she-wolf," he commented, his gaze fixed on where my breasts made a slight curve under the silk fabric of the wedding dress. "I hope she's a better breeder than her mother and gives my son an alpha."

Thump... thump... thump...

My heart pounded in my ears, making me feel dizzy.

"I can assure you that my daughter will not be as... weak as my wife," my father growled.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the pain of my mother's failure pierce through my soul. I hated that they were talking about it, that they could humiliate her in front of the packs. It was my wedding day, meant to be a happy day.

Francis flashed a wolfish grin. That was my father's deepest wound. And everyone knew it.

"I hope you're right, Tristan. And that you're not deceiving me or giving me a useless she-wolf."

Ralph, the old wolf patriarch made a noise in his throat. "Let's continue the ceremony, please. We're all eager for the feast," he mocked, trying to break the tense atmosphere that had settled.

Our fathers were never friendly, never had been. They tolerated each other because they were stronger as allies than as enemies. But they only decided to unify the packs when I was eight, after Francis's wife and Zarek's mother, disappeared. After that tragic event, they swallowed their pride and sealed the union agreement.

Zarek grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to him, positioning me beside him, facing old patriarch. I controlled my breathing and kept my arms close to my body, trying not to show how much I was trembling.

The patriarch looked at me, giving me a warm smile, and then turned to Zarek. "We are here to celebrate the union of this couple and finally unify the two packs of the east!" he began, raising his voice so everyone could hear him.

"Cut your palm and your bride's palm so we can start the union vows," he instructed. My father stepped closer, as did Francis. "Zarek, Alpha of the Inferno Pack of the East, do you accept Valeria, of the Ironclaw Pack of the East, as your mate?"

For a second, the world seemed to stop spinning, everything around us fell into complete silence, motionless.

Zarek stared at me, and a fierce gleam passed through the brown eyes I loved so much.

"No," he whispered, gritting his teeth.

I smiled proudly, unaware of the answer he had given. A succession of gasps echoed through the forest. The smile on my face slowly faded.

"What?" The patriarch asked, as confused as I was.

In a swift movement, Zarek threw the knife to his father and grabbed my arm with such force that I felt the marks of his fingers would be tattooed on my skin. With the other hand, he pulled off the veil, uncovering my face.

"How dare you reject my daughter?" my father growled. "I demand an explanation for what's going on before I kill you both."

Zarek ignored him, keeping his attention on me. I stared into his eyes, trying to find any hint of mockery in his tone. He wouldn't reject me on our wedding day, not after everything we had been through.

He loved me, just as I loved him. Didn't he?

He leaned in, aligning our faces.

"I reject you, Valeria! And I will make you the whore of my pack," he whispered, rubbing the back of his hand against my cheek. "Have you told your father how you spread your legs for me? How you climaxed, screaming my name, with my cock inside you?"

I widened my eyes and opened my mouth, but no sound came out. He wasn't doing this. He couldn't be. He was... humiliating me in front of everyone, despising me.

"I'm going to kill you," my father growled, advancing.

"Tell your father, dear. Tell him what a slut you are. Tell him how you sucked my cock last night, gagging on it," he hissed through clenched teeth, tightening his fingers around my neck.

I shook my head, my tear-filled eyes blurring my vision.

I was... breaking. Little by little until there was nothing left of me, nothing for him or anyone else.

Zarek, my fiancé, my betrothed. My first love, my first in everything. He was... rejecting me at the altar, dishonoring me, degrading me.

I gasped.

Then, everything happened too quickly.

My father lunged at Zarek, but Francis pushed him away from his son, who still had his hands around my neck. It was a silent threat. He had my life in his hands and could kill me at any moment.

"We had an agreement, you damned worm!" my father snarled.

Francis laughed loudly and heartily. "We never had an agreement."

"What?"

I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything but stare at Zarek in disbelief. I could see something in his eyes that I had never seen before. Anger, disgust, contempt.

My heart broke at that moment, with the obvious realization that I had been deceived my whole life. That I had never been anything more than a puppet, molded by my parents and deluded by the male I swore to love.

My entire life, my entire upbringing, full of restrictions to make me the perfect wife for him. All of it. It was all a lie.

"I never planned to marry our offspring, you damned fool. I would never marry my son to a slut from your lineage!" Francis confessed, sounding so disdainful that I felt my hair stand on end. "All of this was nothing more than my revenge plan."

"I know about your affair with Lyra, I know you loved screwing my wife behind my back." He laughed mockingly. "I killed her as soon as I found out the truth. In front of Zarek, so he could see the truth about his whore of a mother. I buried my hand deep in her chest and ripped out her heart."

"Then I had the idea to bury the body and pretend she disappeared, creating the illusion that we were in danger so you would agree to give one of your daughters in the agreement," Zarek said, his firm voice resonating through the forest.

I swallowed a sob and let the first tear slide down the corner of my right eye.

"And now, I will finally have the pleasure of killing you," Francis continued. "After humiliating you in front of everyone, knowing that you had a slutty, whore daughter, just like you used my wife." He laughed. "But don't worry, Tristan. I will make your wife and your two daughter the bitches of my pack; they will serve all my men, always ready to satisfy them, until they are of no more use."

A loud growl rumbled from my father's chest, making me shiver. He was using his alpha power, exuding blind, raw fury.

Zarek turned me to the other side, pressing my back against his hard, defined chest, not removing his fingers from my neck, forcing me to look at our parents.

He leaned in, bringing his lips close to my ear. "Don't worry, Vale..." he whispered, kissing my ear. "I'll be one of your clients; I like what you have to offer between your legs. A good pussy shouldn't go to waste."

I let out a low hiss, exhaling all the pain I felt through it.

My father broke free from Francis and lunged at him, ready to kill, blinded by his fury and desire for revenge.

But he didn't get far. The alpha of the Inferno wolves held the silver knife and didn't hesitate before driving the blade into his neck.

Blood from the ruptured vein sprayed onto my face and the rest of my body, staining my white dress red. It was hot, thick, and had a strong smell that made my stomach churn.

I gasped, parting my lips in a heavy breath. My mother's scream broke the silence, filling the air.

Tristan took a few unsteady steps back, placing his hands over the gaping wound on his neck, trying to stop the hot blood gushing from the injury.

The pungent, metallic smell spread through the air, reaching my nose.

His blue eyes lost focus gradually as life drained from his body. Francis's laughter echoed.

"And finally, after so long, I'm having the pleasure of seeing him die," he said, pulling the knife from my father's neck. He stared at the red liquid covering the blade and brought it to his lips, rubbing his tongue on it and tasting it. "Now I know what your blood tastes like, Tristan. Enjoy my wife in hell."

He kicked the wounded alpha forcefully, sending him flying. He hit one of the trees, falling lifeless to the ground of dry leaves.

I covered my mouth with my hands.

Dead.

My father was dead.