The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118: One Hundred & Eighteen

The wolves laugh. Valka’s eyes burn into Rafael’s as he chuckles, clapping with delight. "Release me and I will gut you and hang you by your fucking entrails--"

A hand slams against her cheek, hard, snapping her head to the side. It is Lilith’s hand. "I will cut out your tongue, useless bitch."

A warning snarl rips out of me but Rafael’s tut of displeasure stops me. "This won’t do," he purrs, and cocks his head to the side. "Kill her," he orders with serene malice as if asking for tea.

"No!" I roar, but the sound is a thing I do not own, it rakes against the ring of men who flank us.

"Crawl, king," Rafael says. "Tell me why I shouldn’t carve that pretty head from her shoulders." 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

A life for a crown.

My lids go heavy. I slip from the moments as if wading through ice, hands trembling with the effort to stay restrained. Sand scrapes through leather, and bleed my knees raw. I hear the words leave my mouth, and yet it is as if someone else tumbles them out. The ground underneath me has begun to turn to ice.

"Look at him," Rafael snarls at Valka. I hear her sob, hear the crack in it. "He is no less than an animal. That is what you chose when you rejected me. Tell me, Valka--what is it about him? His beauty? Will you still want him when I take it all away?"

The guards close in. I let them. A hand fists my hair. I let them. A blade scrapes against my neck and hacks my hair off. I let them. They scatter the silver strands all over her feet, their laughter drowning the sound of her sobs.

The same blade carves a curve down my cheek with brutal efficiency, marring my flesh. A fist slams into my nose, breaking it. I let them. Another. And another. A boot crushes my mouth. It pops with the soft, horrible sound of cartilage breaking.

I do not register the blows in any useful way. My instincts narrow into slow calculation. Every blow is payment traded for a breath, those sweet breaths of hers a commodity bought with my dignity. They unmake every name I have earned since I was born in those moments. They strip my clothes and make incisions into my flesh, only to pour raw, unmined silver into the gashes. They take my boots and slash my heels. They wear me a leash, just like hers and whip my skin with lances.

I feel none of it. And yet, through the bond, I feel it all.

Valka is a raw thing at the center of it--crying, promising murder, pleading. Please. Please. Stop it. Please. I’ll do whatever you want me to. Please stop.

At that, Rafael jerks his chin towards the half-breed holding her and he lets her go. She stumbles, the open wounds preventing her from moving, and Rafael catches her by her hair, dragging her to the forefront of the formed guard by it. She shrieks, twisting, slamming at him, but the silver on her neck sizzles, hisses, keeping her bound, and the harder she pushes, the tighter he drags her through the sand.

Until I have a clear view of his pristine boots and they slam into my face again, forcing my head up from the swaying kneel.

He crouches then, holding Valka still by her neck, so close to me, I can still smell the shampoo on her matted hair. He breathes against the curve of her ear, "Reject him."

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