Alpha's Cruel Addiction

Ophelia looked her husband in the eyes. She was met with a man who looked like him, but didn't love her as such. She was met with the man that held her tightly in bed, yet left in the morning. She realized she'd never be good enough for him.

"I see…" Ophelia murmured.

So this was how Killorn was going to punish her from now on. No beatings. No starvation. Just cruel suffering. That was fine. She was used to this since childhood. Matriarch Eves was harsher.

"Lead the way," Ophelia responded in a firm and woeful tone.

Her behavior caught him by surprise. Killorn's indignation momentarily washed away. His features became blank as a clean slate. There wasn't a single thought running through his mind. He expected her to beg and scream for mercy. He thought she'd finally obey if he did this.

Killorn narrowed his eyes. How long was she going to keep this up? He'd like to see the extent of her stubbornness.

"Luna…" Beetle trailed off, realizing this was not what he had expected.

"Aren't you going to put me in cuffs?" Ophelia asked Killorn, sticking out her wrists for him.

Killorn snapped. He stormed towards his wife, grabbing her roughly by the hands, and glaring down at her. They were close enough that their noses brushed against each other. He had never felt this fury before, not even when he realized those Nileton bastards kidnapped and sold his wife. He was going to get a heart attack from how hard his blood boiled.

"Say it again," Killorn snarled.

"Put me in c-cuffs, my lord."

In an instant, an animalistic growl filled the air. He reached for his wife, but she was already definitely raising her head. Killorn curled his fingers into fists and sharply turned to Beetle.

"I'll take her there myself."

Ophelia's heart skipped. She glanced at her husband and saw no humanity in his expression. He was so far gone. There was murder in his eyes and madness in his mind. He tightly gripped her hand, until she winced in pain. Then, he began dragging her out to the frigid night. She shivered as the cold bit into her skin.

"My lady!" A panicked voice cried out in the distance, as Janette came down to explore the commotion. She watched in horror as their innocent noblewoman was pulled into the freezing wind. "Alpha, Alpha please!" Janette begged, picking up her skirts to chase after them in the hopes of taking whatever punishment it was.

"No," Beetle softly said, stopping her in her path.

"Where is the Duke taking her?" Janette pleaded, grabbing the werewolf in terror. "The beast's den," Beetle painfully gritted out.

Janette's eyes grew wide. "It's the worst prison in the entire empire!" she cried out. "If our lady does not freeze to death in her dress, she will be torn apart by the dogs!"

"I—" Beetle glanced over his shoulders to see the Duchess had fallen.

Janette sharply gasped, but Beetle quickly grabbed her back. She resisted, but Beetle held onto her tightly.

"My lady! My lady are you alright?" Janette shouted frantically, the usually calm woman losing her control. The Alpha yanked his wife back to her feet. She stumbled and staggered, but he continued dragging her like some slave. Everyone watched as their Alpha dragged their Luna to the worst prison in all of the Mavez Dukedom. Death was guaranteed before nightfall. - - - - -

Ophelia has always been obedient. She learned to oblige and obey from a young age. Hell, her name even started with an O. The meaning of Ophelia didn't help her situation either, pun not intended. As the wind bit at her bare skin, Ophelia tried to not shiver. His breathing was hard and heavy. She knew what was going to come out of this. Nothing good, that was for sure. Killorn yanked her to the back of the castle. The iciness of the night licked at her until goosebumps produced. She felt a chill crawl up her spine. Soon, snow touched her feet, for she was still wearing inside-shoes. Her toes were freezing and she was losing feeling. Eventually, he dragged her deep into the forest.

"You want to be punished so badly?" Killorn seethed in a humorless voice.

Ophelia's heart skipped. She saw guards patrolling the area in both human and wolf forms. They bowed at the sight of their Alpha and he excused him instantly.

The trees were barren and dead. The branches were weighed down by the snow. She heard the low growls and rumbles from a metal shed right in front of them. There were gates surrounding the vicinity, trapping whatever… the thing was inside of it.

"You'll get your wish."

With that said, Killorn opened the heavy doors. Her heart stopped dead in its tracks. There were at least ten dogs chained to the walls. They barked and growled at the sight of her.

"GRRRR! WOOF! WOOF!"

Ophelia stumbled in shock, her back landing on his chest. They were foaming at the mouth from baring their teeth at them. They open and shut their enormous jaws.

"One bite can tear off a limb," Killorn promised whilst gripping her shoulders. Ophelia's breath was caught in her throat. "You see that? Its blood." Killorn pointed towards a dark red spot on the floor. It was actually red dye to be used as directions for soldiers to place their bowls. But Ophelia didn't need to know that.

"Tell me you're sorry and I'll take you back to our warm castle," Killorn hoarsely said, his mouth pressed softly to her ears. He thought she'd crack instantly. But then, Ophelia continued to be foolish. "If I survive, you will let Layla go?"

"Ophelia—"

"You'll let her go?" Ophelia persisted.

Ophelia believed she was at fault. Layla must've not known about the order. Even if she did, it was still Ophelia's fault for her insistence. She refused to let someone else take the blame for her. She needed to show her people that she wasn't some pampered young lady—she wanted to help them. These people have shown her nothing, but kindness. She wanted to do the same.

"Ophelia, don't test my patience."

Ophelia didn't respond. Suddenly, Killorn shoved her forward whilst firmly holding her wrists. She shrieked in fear and instantly, the dogs barked even louder. Their growls became more impatient, for the cold air was entering the dungeons.

Ophelia was scared out of her wits. "You'll let her g-go?" Ophelia repeated, persistent as always.

Killorn's nostrils flared. He was going to lose his temper any second now. He'd rather throw her to the dogs than ever let her taste blood in her mouth. He grew up watching his mother get beaten to the ground and he refused to do the same.

"As if you'll make it out alive," Killorn grumbled.

Then, Killorn pushed her inside. "Enjoy, Ophelia."

Killorn shut the doors and grabbed the padlock. He slammed the large entrance shut. Darkness enveloped the entire den. When morning came, there would be nothing left of her stubbornness.

- - - - -

Killorn stormed back to the castle to rain hell on everyone he came across. Lucky for them, everyone was out of sight. Not a single person dared to show themselves. The servants kept to their corners, quickly avoiding eye contact, the soldiers were at their posts with their heads bent. It was almost as if everyone knew he was tolerating no one's bullshit today.

As the clock ticked, Killorn returned to his office. A minute went by and he swung everything off his desk.

CRASH!

Killorn gritted his teeth. He stormed to his father's alcohol cabinet and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Then, he downed the drink within seconds, relishing in the fire that burned his throat.

Every passing second he was in here, Killorn was going to lose his mind. His body was pulled like a magnet to the window that overlooked the forest. Just beyond that dense tree of snow, his wife was locked in there—with mad dogs.

Killorn released a shallow breath. She was going to be the death of him. Not even five minutes had passed and he was already regretting his behavior.

"You'll kill her."

Killorn felt every fiber in his cell stiffen. He didn't have to turn to know who had the audacity to swagger into his office like it belonged to him. Killorn yanked off his armor from this morning's training, letting it fall and clatter onto the ground. Pulling at the irritating strings that tied his tunic together, he felt like he could finally breathe.

Then, Everest just had to open his big, fat, ugly mouth.

"Tonight is the coldest night of the empire, there might even be snowfall in spring," Everest impatiently said, his mellow voice darkening. "Get out," Killorn seethed, unable to understand Everest's misplaced concern.

"I heard they haven't been fed all morning," Everest continued, lowering the hood of his cape. "The soldier in charge of doing it was injured in the snow last night on his patrol."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Killorn snarled. "I—"

"Get the fuck out!" He roared loud enough to shake the walls.

Everest narrowed his eyes. He was tossing a bone at Killorn. The werewolf was damn cheeky. He'd just rescue Ophelia himself then, even without a lock. Turning on his heels, he spat out a final sentence.

"If she's injured, Killorn, you will regret it for the rest of your life."

Then, Everest was gone as quickly as he came. Killorn drank from the whiskey glass again. When he saw it was empty, he smashed the cup to the ground, watching thousands of pieces fly. Then, he gulped the bottle itself. Immediately, he tossed the liquor to the ground again. Everything shattered, so fragile—so weak. Just like his dear Ophelia.

Killorn squeezed his eyes shut. She needed to be punished for her foolishness that night of the ambush. To offer her sacred blood up like that—what if the people found out? What if they knew of her abilities? They would drain her dry.

"Everything that I could do…" Killorn snarled under his breath, for these past few weeks, he had argued nonstop at the war meetings for her favor. All of his hard work could've come tumbling down if they realized she truly was the Direct Descendant.

Ophelia had endangered herself. Now, she dared to take the punishment for some random woman!

"Fuck me." Killorn already found himself storming down the castle staircase.

Everyone around him quickly dropped whatever they were doing and bowed. They did so deeply and didn't dare to raise their head, even when he was gone. Killorn tried to ignore it, but it was impossible. Guilt weighed on his chest. He saw a picture of her. Her tiny little figure in a den of dogs. Instantly, he was outside.

"Alpha!" Soldiers prepared to light their torches. With every word, their breath was visible. Tonight was freezing. Not even the monsters could tolerate this kind of cold.

Killorn had never run so fast before. It started with a single step forward in the forest, and then, he was sprinting. He couldn't picture it any longer.

Killorn thought of her shivering form, in that thin little dress of hers. He thought about her shoulders trembling in the cold. Then, he pictured her face, how heartbroken she must've been, how the tears clung to her cheeks.

The last thing Killorn thought was—"I'd be the cause of her death."