Chapter 9
+8 Point!
I show my wrists, where my brand is meant to be, but right now, it shows that I belong to no one. “I come from the Sparta pack,” I explain quickly. “I request refuge under the King’s decree of Pack Asylum.”
No one really uses this decree anymore.
It’s meant for extraordinary circumstances when a wolf from one pack seeks shelter in another without their previous pack finding out. Mostly, women and children use it, and I feel dirty for even suggesting it. It’s also only offered to members of packs, which puts me in a difficult position since I haven’t been branded.
Regardless, it’s the only way they’ll give me an audience with the Alpha.
At this point, they’re supposed to hurt me unless I pose a threat. It’s like Parley for pirates, except Jack Sparrow isn’t here to save me. If they abide by the King’s law, they have to take me to see the Alpha. But not every pack follows the King’s exact words. Only after I’ve explained my situation will the Alpha decide whether I can seek refuge in his pack.
The female Beta growls, “You’re joking. What proof do I have that you’re not just trouble? Or
worse… a rebel?”
I shake my head. “I’m neither. I just want a new life. Please.”
The three wolves all turn to her. I can see they’re mind–linking, and I wonder if she’s also reaching out to the Alpha..
The tension is so thick I can feel sweat starting to bead on my forehead. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know where I’ll go. I don’t even think Sparta will take me back. Maybe Clara would argue for me, but even if my old pack opened its doors to me, I can’t watch my mate with someone else. It will destroy me.
Two of the three wolves shift into their human forms. The female Beta throws them some spare boxer briefs she pulled from her back pocket. They come to either side of me, gripping my arms tightly as we begin to march toward the town. The one guard in wolf form stays promptly behind us, reminding me he’s there by nipping at my feet whenever I slack.
The Beta leads us toward the university, which catches me off guard. I’m not sure where they’re taking me, and I decide this isn’t the moment to ask questions. I just let them drag me toward the school.
I don’t get to see much, but the few glimpses I manage to catch look amazing.
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Chapter 9
Now I understand why they’re called scholars. It’s like being on a medieval campus. There are werewolf students on the grassy quads who don’t even blink as we walk past. There’s even a small athletic center where students are fighting and running track. Everything looks old, like I’m in Oxford or Cambridge.
The buildings soon give way to trees, and we come across a castle–or at least, what looks like a miniature one. It sits at the edge of a lake, its stonework looking far more impressive than anything back home. Walking inside feels like stepping into *Beauty and the Beast*. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, a fire crackles in the fireplace, and large rugs fill the air with the scent of pine.
I’m hustled up a winding staircase, one of the men next to me pushing my head down so I can’t see above. We finally enter a room where I’m forcefully placed on my knees, the grips on my arms letting up. I quickly rub them before glancing upwards.
My gaze instantly meets a pair of dark green eyes–forest green with tinges of dark brown.
I try not to stare, but my voice catches in my throat. There’s energy pulsing through the air that makes my wolf recoil and bow down.
Alpha.
Alpha Matthew stands in front of a mahogany desk, his body leaning against it, arms crossed.
I notice a string of tattoos down one arm. My eyes slowly trace his face.
I’m not surprised to find that he’s beautiful.
His face is chiseled, his chin square like he was crafted by a demigod. His dark hair lightly brushes the side of his forehead. He wears a tight black button–down and gray pants. I didn’t think I’d be threatened as much by him after knowing Bren, but there’s a maturity about Alpha Matthew that has me petrified to my core.
Alpha Matthew studies me intently, his finger tapping on his muscular arm. I notice a wolf ring on his index finger, gleaming brightly under the lights. No one speaks as Matthew continues staring at me. I almost feel him trying to get into my mind, but more realistically, I think he’s testing me to see what I’ll do.
There’s a shuffle outside the door, and a man in boxer briefs enters, holding my backpack.
“She came with this, Alpha,” he says, handing the backpack to the Beta.
Matthew doesn’t look away from me. His voice comes out smooth but with force. “Everyone but Sage. Out.”
I almost leave the room myself, as his Alpha command reverberates in the air. The wolves
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Chapter 9
bow their heads and exit, leaving me alone with Alpha Matthew and the Beta. My heart starts
pounding, and I look back down at the ground.
Matthew turns to his Beta, anger lacing his words. “What is the meaning of this? Bringing a rogue into my home? Are you insane?”
Sage shrugs, dropping my backpack to the ground. “She asked for Pack Asylum.”
Matthew’s eyes narrow at me. “Why?”
I realize his question is directed at me. I gather my courage and slowly stand. Sage’s stance immediately shifts, becoming defensive, like she’s ready to launch at me any second. I didn’t think I would pose that much of a threat, but with the Rebels stirring, I don’t think they believe
they can trust me.
I face the Alpha, my chin held high. “I come from the Sparta pack. During my initiation, I found
my mate. He rejected me.
“I
Sage’s eyes widen, and her gaze shifts to the Alpha, a flicker of worry crossing her face. Alpha
Matthew doesn’t flinch. He steps closer, his presence suffocating. “You believe your rejection
justifies invoking the sacred law of asylum?”
His eyes narrow, his voice dripping with frustration. “Did you think you’d be granted pity by coming here?”
I shake my head. “I don’t want your pity. But I thought you’d be the most empathetic.”
“Empathetic?” His voice hardens, his tongue briefly darting over his bottom lip as he bites
down to contain his words.
“And what do you mean by that?”
I open my mouth, but hesitate. I have to choose my words carefully. The last thing I want is for him to rip my vocal cords out. I look away, rubbing my arm where the guards had gripped me
so roughly.
The pain is finally starting to subside.
“There was a rumor,” I say softly, “a few years ago. That you…”
Matthew steps forward, his body invading my space. I can smell the woods and pine on him, feel his anger radiating off his chest, but there’s something else–sadness? Rejection?
I meet his gaze. “That you were also rejected.”
Before he can respond, Sage steps forward with a growl. “Just send her back into the woods
like the rogue she is!”
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Matthew nods slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. For a brief moment, I think I catch a glimpse of empathy, even though he’s trying hard not to show it.
