The Alpha King's Mistress Chapter 9: Choices

I could already feel the bond between us tightening into a knot. However, the bond also carries pain, and I was dying inside because my mate had just rejected me. Nasya, my wolf, stopped wagging its tail and howled in agony within my head, escaping to the recesses of my mind. I keep my focus on him as I take in all of his features, including those breathtaking emerald eyes.

“Then let us reject each other,” I announced, forcing the word out of my mouth. The words felt like a knife being stabbed deeply into my heart.

He suddenly laughed darkly, causing me to arch an annoyed brow. His voice was too enchanting for my ears.

Gosh, I hate that thought.

The mate bond is still trying to fix this broken bond between us. It was one thing I hated about the matebonds. It didn’t recognize that the feelings of two people were not always mutual and the other was just hurting.

"I will not accept your rejection even if you chanted it like a prayer. Our bond will only be broken if both of us accept the rejection" he nonchalantly replied, rolling the cuffs of his shirt down to his elbows.

I looked at him in disbelief, “Why? You didn't want me. You made it very clear, you bastard!”

He ignored my question as if daring me to repeat what I was saying, “I will give you choices, reject me, and this night will not end well for you, or just be a good slut and forget that you are my mate”

I shake my head in utter incredulity, taking a step back. I take an indignant breath. My heart beat loudly against my chest. My hands balled into fists as I gritted, "Damn your choices! And for your information, I am not a slut!"

He smirked and gestured to my thin clothes, “Yet you are barely cloth and stood like a whore in front of those men. Yet you let yourself be auctioned to be a werewolf's mistress”

“That’s…….” I shut my mouth. Explaining was pointless because he would not believe me. Without pondering much of my next words, I spoke coldly, “I Florence Lancas—”

Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a huge, rough hand around my neck and my body hoisted until I was slammed against the trunk of the limo. He moved so fast that I was seconds late in registering. I desperately ripped his hands off my neck and my sharp nails dug into his skin. As I fought to breathe, tears streamed down my cheeks.

"I gave you options, but you opted to go with the unpleasant one," Nicholas growls, clenching his hands even harder. "Now, let's make an agreement since you have already done what you wanted, you will not utter it again, do you understand?"

When I didn't nod, he grew angrier put more pressure on my neck, and snarled, “Do you understand?!”

I defeatedly nodded as the tightness of my chest became unbearable from lack of oxygen. He harshly pulled away his hand. I coughed, caressing my neck. It was no doubt bruised. I gasped for air as I sank to the ground

He crouched down before me and lifted his hand, delicately brushing my delicate neck that I was so damn sure had red imprints around it.

I flinched at his touch.

"Let this serve as a lesson to you, and if you dare to do it again, I will have Barbara's head as your punishment." He warned, holding my deadly glare with his icy stare.

I noticed how he arched his brow when he noticed another handprint on my neck. And in a split second his demeanor changed into fury.

"N-no" I whispered with difficulty, stunned. "That old woman was out of this! You can't just kill anyone!"

He smirked cruelly, “I definitely can when she presented a hardheaded and ill-mannered woman” his eyes zeroed back on my neck before he harshly shoved my head to the side, “And damaged”

I winced, whispering, “Damaged? What the hell are you talking about?”

"Your neck bears the mark of another hand. Did you screw another man before coming to the stage?” he derides spitefully.

I am sure he can smell a faint scent of men's perfume on my skin.

I quickly raised my hands to my neck. It looks like the concealer didn't do its magic tonight. I opened my mouth to deny the accusation but I ended up smirking, changing my mind.

“Yes, and he was good. He worshiped my body as it belonged to him”

It doesn't matter what he thinks of me because whatever kind of person he pictured me in his mind, it will not change anything. So why waste the chance to anger him more? Two can play this spiteful game.

His jaw was tight, his hands clenching firmly on his palm. In a blink, he had my long dark blonde hair on his hold, roughly yanking it, “Such a slut you are. Letting other men touch what’s mine. How many times did he take you? One…or three times?”

I didn't dare to answer and just glared at him, showing him how I loathe him even in the lamest way.

He leaned closer to my ears. “Forget the times you let another man touch you, I will make sure you will beg for mercy for me to stop when I take you because I will make sure to drill in your mind and imprint in your body on who it belongs to"

The remark caused fury to burn fiercely in my chest. Why do I always get stuck with people who can order and toss me around when not needed?

I gritted my teeth ignoring how his touch sent tingles in my body and caused wetness nestled between my thighs. I spit at his face causing him to take a step back, angrily wiping his face. Ignoring the agony of my body, protesting to me to lie still, I got on my feet and faced him.

"Go to hell" I spat.