The Bloodied King's Mate

Four races shaped the world: vampires, werewolves, witches, and humans. Each claimed its own lands, followed its own laws, and watched the others with wary eyes.

The vampires ruled Valtherion. Their society revolved around bloodlines and purity. At the pinnacle stood the Primordials, known as the Bloodied. Born as vampires rather than turned, they possessed flawless blood and near-godlike power. They walked in sunlight, bent nature to their will, and their word was absolute.

Beneath them came the True Blooded, noble houses descended from the Primordials. They governed the courts and cities. Lower still were the Turned, ordinary humans bitten and transformed, bound in service to their makers. Half-Bloods, born of mixed unions, held greater strength than mortals yet never earned full acceptance. At the very bottom lurked the Feral, those who had surrendered to bloodlust. All hunted them without mercy.

Magic was forbidden in Valtherion. The slightest trace of witchcraft meant immediate death.

To the north lay Raelthorn, the werewolf kingdom, divided among three powerful packs. Though their territories differed, the packs remained bound by ancient moon laws.

Humans occupied the remaining lands. Their kingdoms rose and fell with the seasons. They built towns, traded goods, and waged their own wars, yet they lived in constant fear of what stalked the night.

Then there was Elaris, the lost kingdom of the witches. Most believed the vampires had erased it from existence long ago. A few whispered that some witches still survived in hiding, blending among the other races and waiting for the world to forget them. To be revealed as a witch anywhere meant death, so survivors concealed their gifts even from their own families.

This fragile order, woven from blood, ancient rules, and deep mistrust, kept the world in balance. Everyone had a place. Everything had its purpose.

Until fate intervened.

---

Danika Morren

I am Danika Morren, eldest daughter of Beta Kolls of the Lunaria Pack. I should have held status within the pack. Instead, I became little more than a maid. I scrubbed floors, fetched and carried, and took orders from those who had once called me family. The wider conflicts of our world were never supposed to touch me.

They did.

"Danika!"

Liora's shriek cut through the house like a blade. I stayed at the sink, finishing the last dishes from the visitors who had finally left. Liora's upcoming marriage to King Kael had thrown the household into chaos, and every burden seemed to land on my shoulders. The other maids sometimes found moments of rest. I did not.

"Danika, if I have to come get you, pray to the Moon Goddess for mercy!"

I dropped the dishcloth, wiped my hands, and hurried down the hall. I nearly collided with Liora in the corridor.

She gave me no time to speak.

The slap cracked across my face, snapping my head to the side.

"How dare you ignore me? Do you have a death wish?" Liora hissed.

I dropped to my knees at once. "I apologize, Liora. I was—"

"You have no excuse!" She jabbed a long nail toward my face, her eyes blazing. Then she paused. "I will not waste my energy on you today. Where is the dress I asked for?"

I lifted my head slightly. "I placed it in your dresser."

If that was truly why she had struck me, I prayed the gods would keep me from voicing my true thoughts.

"Oh. Already?"

She did not bother to verify. The hallway door opened, and her twin sister Lyra stepped out wearing the exact same dress.

Liora's face darkened.

"Do not tell me this is what I think it is," she snarled, storming into her room.

I prayed silently for deliverance.

"Danika."

Her voice cut through the air as she rushed back out and attacked me.

She would never raise a hand against her sister. I, however, served as the perfect target for her rage.

Kicks and slaps rained down. As werewolves, their strength made every blow hurt far more than it should. Pain pulsed through my body while I whimpered beneath my breath.

A cold voice interrupted. Not to save me, but to end the noise. It belonged to Fyina, their mother.

"Danika. Come."

She turned and walked away without another glance.

I hated how they treated me like dirt. I forced myself to my feet and followed, limping down the hall while Liora and Lyra continued shouting behind me, still fighting over the ruined dress. The Beta's house had fallen into disgraceful chaos, yet no one dared speak against it.

When I entered Beta Kolls's office, the air smelled of parchment and aged wood. My father sat behind his desk. Without looking up, he slid a wrapped bundle across the table. It appeared to contain a long, thin dagger bound in dark cloth.

"Alpha Dan requests that you deliver this to him," he said, eyes fixed on the scroll before him.

My heart stuttered. Not because of the dagger, but because Alpha Dan had asked for me. The same Alpha who often watched me with a possessive glint in his eye. The one who had once cornered me in a dim hallway of this very house and whispered, "One day, I will have you to myself." He had nearly succeeded.

"Danika!" My father's voice snapped me back.

I blinked. "Father… is there no one else who could deliver it?"

He finally met my gaze. "Why?"

I could not bring myself to speak the truth. Accusing an Alpha carried a penalty of death, and the scales of justice never tipped in my favor.

He folded his hands. "You must obey the Alpha, Danika. What happens afterward is beyond my control."

My stomach knotted, but I stepped forward and took the bundle. It was indeed a dagger.

"Be careful with it," he said quietly. "Do not give it to anyone else. Do not lose it. That blade is dangerous in the wrong hands. Though I doubt it would harm anyone if you tried to use it. You are only human, after all. That is probably why he chose you."

He did not know the real reason.

But I did.

---

I reached the Alpha's house. The guards admitted me without question. Inside, servants moved about their duties. I stopped one and asked softly, "Please, where can I find the Alpha?"

The servant eyed my plain dress with suspicion, clearly wondering why a lowly maid would seek the Alpha directly.

"Danika?"

I turned. The madam of the house, an older woman with sharp eyes and a commanding air, stood behind me.

"Yes," I replied.

"Follow me."

She led me upstairs to the Alpha's private chambers. When she opened the door, I froze.

Gods. Not his bedroom.

"I only wish to deliver the—"

"He instructed that you hand it to him personally," she interrupted. "Are you disobeying the Alpha?"

Her tone left no room for argument.

"No," I whispered.

I stepped inside. The room was spacious and richly furnished. Alpha Dan was no young man. He had no official mate and no legitimate heirs, but rumors spoke of many illegitimate children, six sons and three daughters, all living in comfort due to his indulgences.

I was still taking in my surroundings when movement sounded behind me.

The bathroom door opened.

Alpha Dan emerged. Completely naked.

I turned my head away at once, my knees nearly giving out.

"Turn around." His voice was deep and commanding.

I remained frozen.

"Turn around. Now."

I obeyed, my eyes squeezed shut.

"Look at me. Fully."

"Alpha…" I began, but he stepped closer.

"Look at me."

After a few painful seconds, I forced my eyes open. From his head to his... gods. Why was that tiny thing looking at me? Is this how small all males were?

"Do you like what you see?" he asked.

Like what? my mind screamed.

"Touch it."

Gods, I cannot do this anymore. I turned to flee.

As I turned, his arm locked around my waist like iron. He hurled me onto the mattress with terrifying ease. The dagger slipped from my sweat-slick fingers and thudded onto the thick bedding. I scrambled backward across the silken sheets, my fingers desperately searching until they closed around the hilt again. I thrust the blade toward him, my arm shaking violently.

"Do not come closer!" I cried. "Do not!"

He laughed, low and hungry, and advanced. "Humans cannot wield such power. It is wasted on you. Stop this foolishness and submit."

I waved the blade weakly, my back pressed hard against the carved headboard.

He grinned like a predator and crawled forward.

As his hand seized my waist and dragged me toward him, terror surged through me. I screamed, squeezed my eyes shut, and drove the dagger forward with every ounce of strength I possessed.

Silence fell.

When I opened my eyes, the blade was buried deep in his chest. A strange, ethereal blue light pulsed from the wound, illuminating his face in an unnatural glow.

He stared at me in shock, then agony. "Who… are you?" he rasped, his voice wet and failing.

He collapsed.

"Alpha?" I whispered, my voice trembling.

He did not move.

My heart hammered wildly as I crawled closer and pressed shaking fingers beneath his nose. No breath.

Gods.

I had just killed Alpha Dan.

His warm, dark blood smeared across my dress as I stumbled off the bed. My legs barely held me.

I ran into the hallway without looking back and collided with a servant girl carrying a tray. Porcelain shattered across the floor. Her eyes widened at the sight of blood on my clothes and the dagger still clutched in my hand. She screamed.

I did not waste any time. I kept running for my life.

This was not where I was supposed to be. I should have been tearing through the forest, running for my life. But the winter cold was a death sentence on its own, and crossing the frozen border into Bloodvale Pack territory, the domain of the Alpha King, meant walking straight into my grave.

My only choice was to hide and figure out my next move.

Hiding in Liora's room was a special kind of madness. Desperation and the gut-wrenching fear of being caught had driven me into the nearest refuge. It just had to be hers.

Now curled into a tight ball inside her oversized dresser, I sent a silent prayer to any god who might be listening. Make me invisible. Please.

The door creaked open. My heart slammed against my ribs. I froze, one hand pressed tight to my chest, as soft, intimate laughter drifted into the room.

Liora. And a male voice I did not recognize.

Then came the sounds. Low moans. The wet, hungry smack of