Page 19 of Justice

My eyes fell on the woman again, her shoulder bleeding from a bite. Hmm, such an odd position. A wolf goes for the throat. Instead, the attacking wolf bit her intimately, as one would bite what they owned. “Which of the carcasses caused you harm? I’ll burn their corpse as payment for setting me free.”

“I don’t think –” She started, but I cut her off. My mind had become less blurred as the minutes passed, and I was beginning to feel like myself again.

“It’s a fucking disgrace to have your body burned in death for our kind. Point out the wolf.” She took a step forward, and I held out my hand, stopping her with a palm just below her throat, “I will repay you by dishonoring your attacker, but after that, I do not wish to see more of you, and I ask that you never use your ability to command me again.”

“I –” she opened her mouth to object again, but I didn’t let her.

“Never again. Which one caused you harm?” My eyes fell to my hand that held her at bay. For a moment, her creamy skin next to my hand had me captivated. “Who?”

“It was you.” I jumped backward, nearly falling as my hand pulled away from her skin. I felt my soul tug outward as a pop of light appeared on her chest.

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. I hadn’t once thought of this possibility being an option, but now, now that my mark, the mark of my family, the mark of mates appeared like a tattoo on this female vampire’s chest, I knew it to be true. And I hated it. I despised her for it. I never wanted to look at anyone less in my entire life than I did the female in front of me.

Her hand went to her chest, no doubt feeling the burn as my mark seared into her skin. “What did you do to me?”

“I did nothing,” I spat, which was the truth. I could not control the fates and their ill humor.

She looked down at her skin. “You marked me.”

“Give me a dagger, and I would gladly carve it out of your skin because no mate of mine would have the ability to take my control away. No mate of mine would dare do as you have done,” I growled.

“Mate?” Her voice screamed in the most ear-piercing way.

“You’re just gathering men like one gathers phone numbers after a night at the pub, aren’t you, love?” A man standing behind her stated.

The other men ignored her as they stepped closer to her, examining the mark left on her skin, trying to rub it off. Jealousy and anger rose within me. How dare they try to eliminate the mark of the king? How dare they touch her? I growled, and all heads turned to me.

“You cannot just rub off the mark of the king!”

“But you could carve it out of her skin?” One of the men challenged.

“As her mate, I can do as I please with her.”

All the men laughed, the heartiest of laughs that would have a lesser man embarrassed. “I hate to break it to you, Justice, King of the Shifters.” Was this man mocking me? “But times have changed drastically; women hold power. All the power these days. And as her mates, we can’t and won’t allow you to get near her with a blade.”

“My mate does not have others,” I growled, and I’m not sure why it mattered, I didn’t want her, I didn’t like her, I despised her and all that she stood for.

The one called Oak held up three fingers. “Three of them.”

I snarled. “Impossible. I’m the king.”

“And you’re a bit of a douche,” she mumbled before taking one of the surrounding men’s hand. “I want to leave.”

“Do we take him with us?” another asked as he brought his hand to my bite mark, letting his palm glow as he sealed her wounds. Phenomenal.

She looked over at me. “He can follow if he wishes. We’ve got what we needed.”

Then she walked away. Dismissing me. The king.

“Stop!” I ordered.

Instead of stopping, she only slowed before looking over her shoulder at me. “What?”

“I don’t know your name.” Not like it mattered.

“Liberty.”