ARTEMIS' POV:
She pushed me away.
Words can't describe the anguish I'm in, the pain ripping through my chest as I unwillingly relive those seconds again. The look on her face, the fear, the terror I couldn't understand.
And then that whiplash of energy, like a whirlwind.
Nothing makes sense anymore, but what I fear the most is the subtle feeling of her withdrawal. I'm losing her bit by bit, and this overwhelming feeling of helplessness chokes me even more.
The seconds I'm away from her are like torture; I can't imagine not being able to hold her ever again.
The more I find a way out of this, the more walls I run into, all because of a prophecy that might hold no truth behind it and my father's overwhelming desire to control me.
In a final attempt to salvage something, to reach an agreement, I find myself seeking him first, walking towards his office.
Desperation oozes off every hurried step that draws me closer to my destination until I'm standing right in front of it.
I kick the door open without knocking, as usual, and he sits at his desk like always, working on projects and plans, the latest one being the wedding that's in a few weeks.
His bored, unbothered eyes lift from the papers in his hands and look at me. A long and tired sigh escapes his lips while he leans back against the backrest of his chair.
"What do you want now?" He starts, a hint of annoyance in his features, ticked off by my intrusion and the fact that I can't sit still even with everything going on.
"You haven't dropped by since our last meeting," he says, referring to the revelation, his secret he unwillingly revealed to me.
Even with the dastardly deeds he committed, all in the name of honor and our kingdom, even with what he did to his own mate, there's not a single shred of remorse looking back at me or shame.
He's as stiff and cold-hearted as ever.
"I'm begging you once more. Call this madness off. No matter how powerful you think this marriage will make us, choosing the Wildhearts is hardly the wisest thing to do," I begin, right off the bat, no point mincing words.
He looks bored.
His eyes shift to my outlook, the ripped shirt from being crushed against the wall earlier, the scratches on the side of my face; my overall roughed-up exterior.
"Don't tell me that you're still picking fights with the students like some pathetic common peasant ruffian," he frowns.
I look at the tear, recalling the force at which I was thrown against the wall, the energy clearly coming from Sera in a fit of her own panic from seeing something.
Something she refused to share before throwing me out.
"It's hardly any of your business."
He rolls his eyes at my stubbornness.
"My mind was made up... long before you knew anything. I'm sorry, but this marriage is happening whether it fits your tastes or not," he stands firm, facing his work again.
I bite my lips.
"Of all Alphas, you chose the most sadistic bastard in the court to join hands with? You of all people have heard of his tyranny towards his own pack members. The man is a monster that hurts even his own daughter," I argue louder, hoping it appeals to his senses.
"A monster will be the best ally to have fighting at our side. Maybe we need a bit of brutality against those goddamned witches," he comments, initially not bothering to look at me until he drops the papers in his hands and looks up.
His expression shifts from bored to serious and grim.
"You have no idea the kind of threat a single Astria being poses to our people, our throne. You have no idea of the sacrifices that must be made to keep such a threat at bay! I don't care if the man is a devil; you will concede to my decision!" he barks louder.
I stand my ground.
"What about a union between wolves and the humans? They're weak, but their numbers far exceed our own. If we have them on our side, we won't need to make deals with Gideon," I suggest.
He raises a brow, his interest piqued for the first time, and I continue.
"You want a fighting chance against a witch, humans have their weapons that can be used against them, and they're not natural enemies, so they could stand a chance against magic solely meant to kill a wolf."
"Is this because of that human girl? The one I hear you parade around like a clueless pup?" he cuts in, and I freeze.
Hearing him refer to her that way, in a tone that simply implies her as nothing, my blood boils fast, and my well-curated calmness melts away.
I'm holding myself by a thin thread.
"Her name is Seraphina," I correct him stiffly.
He smiles coldly, calculatingly, thinking about her.
"I like her. She's smart, stubborn, knows what she wants and how to get it, but not for you. You have other roles you need to fulfill, a role you were born into, that requires you to stand up and not whine about what you want."
His tone is mocking again. He waves a hand to the side, pointing at a small portrait hanging on the wall, one of him, Lucian, and me, taken years ago-something that was supposed to be a family picture.
"Look at Lucian, he's smart, knows when to speak and when to shut up, when to oppose and when to suck it up and take orders."
"I'm not your dog."
"It would be better if you were, then at least I'd have a smart son," he growls. "Forget her. Her role would be more befitting on Lucian's side as a companion and one of my advisors in the future."
That tiny thread holding me back snaps, and I see red.
My wolf seeks to rip through my mental confines and hurt him, rip that conceited look off his face. Instead, my fist slams against the table. Two of the four legs crack, and the table becomes lopsided.
His frown deepens from my disrespect, but he doesn't act on it, remaining still while watching me breathe too hard, struggling with my own self-control.
"Seraphina is mine," I begin once I'm calm enough. "I've wondered for too long why she consumes my mind despite the defective bond with Kamila, and I've come to realize that it's because my wolf recognizes her as its mate, as ours, therefore Lucian can't have her or anyone else."
It took me a while to understand this desire to have her, this obsession, why it feels so right to be with her. It goes to show that even the fickle mate bond my father tried to recreate with Kamila couldn't hold a flame to my burning desire to be with my true mate - Sera.
He looks stunned, quiet, doubtful if I've lost my sanity. I use the opportunity to speak.
"There's a chance you could be wrong about all of this, a chance that Kamila isn't the one I should be going after, that the Wildhearts are the wrong choice and that you've made a mistake, father," I pause, watching it sink inside him, hoping that he can see past his own pride and consider it for a moment.
I decide to bargain my own self to him, to change his mind, to increase my own odds. I'd do anything for Sera.
I bow my head only slightly, showing him respect as a king for the first time in too long.
"I swear that you will have my full and complete devotion. I'll be the son you wanted, I'll be just like Lucian, better if you need me to be. I will be clay in your hands to be molded into whatever form you see fit," I pause, gritting my teeth. "Just...call off the wedding."
He's silent for minutes, thinking on it, staring down at his table.
My heart pounds with anticipation in the drawn silence, my palms grow even sweatier waiting for an answer, hoping he takes the offer.
He finally looks up at me with a straight face.
"I've heard all you have to say and it's only brought me to one simple conclusion." Strangely, the way he looks at me doesn't seem moved in the slightest; if anything, it's colder, more hateful, angry. "You still don't know what it means to rule a kingdom," he drops the accusation in a low, seething voice.
My anger rises once more, leaning forward and grabbing at the already broken table separating him and me.
"I'm giving you everything you want! I'm surrendering to you!" I yell with rage.
He slams his hands on the table, getting up to face me.
"For a human, a stain to our legacy! You would risk the end, put an end to years of planning over petty emotions? I thought you had matured in the slightest, but I was wrong."
Just like that, his overwhelming Alpha dominance oozes off him like poison, forcing me to bend to his will.
I take a step back, away from him and the table, holding myself up from falling, gnashing my teeth to bear it. The pressure of his aura is subduing - agonizing.
"You will marry Kamila Wildheart regardless of your cooperation. You will follow my every command because I am your King and your father," he says, continuing his torture.
All I can do is stand here and take his command, bear his words, unable to fight back or do anything.
He forces me to acknowledge my weakness compared to him until it finally ceases and I can breathe again, gasping for air, catching my breath, and coughing from taking in too much at once.
I can taste the blood at the back of my throat and only manage to meet his eyes again once I've partially recovered. His face remains unfeeling, stoic, cold, regardless of the pain he's inflicted on me, regardless of the blood we share.
"You leave me no other choice but to punish this insolence, a way to force you to act more like a prince. Your marriage will be moved forward, in three days you will form a full bond with Kamila and you will be married."