I could hear the sickening crack of my ribs as sharp pain consumed me the more, leaving me paralyzed to shake any part of my body.
Pain. Heart-wrenching pain, that was I felt both from his punch and the hatred in his eyes. The smell was still vivid and the more I sniffed it, the more broken I become. It hurt so badly that I felt like the ground should open and swallow me, so I would vanished from this world.
My life seemed to have ended, and dying seemed so alluring right now.
I coughed and thick red blood splattered from my mouth. My lips trembled and my eyes tinged in hot tears that burned their way down my cheeks endlessly like rivers.
A little try to sit properly on the floor caused me to groaned deeply as a raging pang hit my stomach, reminding me once again, in the most hurting way that my fated mate really hit me this hard like he wanted me dead.
No, how can this be?
In disbelief, I looked up at the Lycan, just to be sure I wasn't dreaming, but the young, cruel man wasn't even looking at my direction. it was like he had forgotten I was there. Everyone in the palace checked on me with a stare when they heard me coughing, but the heartless man I had as a mate didn't even spare me a glance.
I slouched there on the floor, hopeless and shattered. My stomach and chest kept hurting so badly that I found it hard to even cry out loud—not like I would have the courage to dare interrupt him with it. I mean, I can't even scream in pain when he was talking because I was afraid he would eventually get enrage and kill me.
His cold face was enough to snap my lips shut. The most I could do was whimper and groan silently, trying to absorb the pain with my wolf healing ability.
His punch was so hard, but each time I glanced at the cracked tiled floor which could have been my head if I hadn't dodged, my heart would flip and sink into my stomach in terror. My supposed mate almost killed me just for calling him my mate.
How was I so unlucky to have a monster as a mate, even my wolf that was ecstatic over a mate won't stop howling in disappointment and utmost sadness.
I tried speaking to my mate again through the mind link, but I realized that moment he had already blocked me off, making it impossible for my voices to go through.
Does he hate me this much at first sight? Wasn't I his mate to soften his heart and charm him into an instant love at first sight? He hadn't reject me but also didn't accept. He just warned me not to mention the word "mate" to him ever again after hitting me.
How cruel...
"My name is Dracula, the Lycan prince, as you all must already know. At this point, I want everyone here to listen very carefully because I won't repeat a single letter the second time, and no disobedience to my order will be tolerated!" The Lycan began after he had gone silent since his punch me.
I would have thought the silence was a sign of remorse if I hadn't seen how crude and menacing his face and eyes were. His voice was equally sounding like thunder and possessed a strong, heart-clenching aura that froze everyone to a spot.
I gasped, frightened, as I heard him introduce himself as the Lycan prince. But it seemed I was the only one just realizing he wasn't just a Lycan, but the prince because no one flinched as I did.
Now I know. This literally explained a lot why my father was broken into a puppet in front of the Lycan. I know him to be very brave and fearless, but every werewolf knew that no amount of bravery could save one from the wrath of the Lycan prince who controls the Lycan's armies.
Now I see why my mate had emanated such an overwhelming and dreadful aura that could consume every ounce of courage in anyone and reduce them to their knees.
His essence could penetrate deep into the walls, and it made us all chill with fear. My wolf ran far inside me, cowering in fright as she trembled. I can't believe we became afraid of the man who should have embraced us as his lovely mate.
Why is my life so messed up?
I looked up to his face again and saw how he stood tall with muscles bursting from every part of his body, especially his biceps and broad chest, even when his long sleeve robe wasn't body tight.
It really hinted at how huge and mighty this man was.
He cleared his throat to speak again with his frown deepening and everyone grew more tensed up as we wondered what he was about to say again. His hand carefully slide over his nose as he wiped it gentle, making a snort like he was perceiving something pungent.
I felt it was my mate's scent that made him wipe his nose in irritation and that really broke me more.
Maybe he might have a Lycan girlfriend, and seeing a werewolf like me become his mate has sparked rage and disgust in him?
But, when Mom was still alive, she assured me that my mate would love me in ways I could never have imagined, treating me as if I were his queen and the most precious part of his soul.
Before my mother's death, we had stayed together numerous times in the balcony where I would sit on her laps while she explained and told me about mate bond, especially for us with the royalty bloodline.
It was a fascinating story that left me dreaming of a day like this. The day I would turn fully 18 and bump into my strikingly handsome royal blood mate like myself, getting our hearts, souls, and bodies to pull towards each other magically.
How she described all of that was so heartwarming, and I looked forward anxiously to that day.
She didn't tell me anything about mate rejection or hatred, and even when I asked her if it was possible, she clearly told me that it was never possible in my case as the princess of the pack.
So what is going on here?
My mate almost killed me in the most gruesome way now.
"I came here because I will be living in this pack among you, weak animals, just for some time. I know everyone's face here, so I issue this warning to you all. No one must tell anyone outside here about my true identity as a Lycan. I came here to live a normal life without causing tragedy or disaster, but you can push me to do all that with your disobedience if you want. For this night, I will stay in this royal packhouse while a separate packhouse where my bodyguards and I will live should be made for us anywhere in this pack under 24 hours" He spoke with royalty and command, and everybody in the room nodded with a countless "yes, sir,"
"If anyone outside this pack house ever acts or displays any behavior that indicates they discovered I wasn't a werewolf but a Lycan, it only means someone has leaked my identity, and the punishment is death for each and every one of you! Did I make myself clear?!" He asked sternly, and they all nodded, bowing.
He kept avoiding my face, looking everywhere else except in my direction.
The more I peered into his stony face, the more scary and dreadful it became.
"I am done. That's all I have to say. It is a simple command, with the penalty of death for disobeying it. Be warned!" He concluded, and they nodded again, except me. I was more concerned about my fate. He wasn't even going to talk about me, his mate, acting as if I was invisible in his eyes.
Slowly and majestically, he stepped down the few stairs beneath the throne. Everyone bowed again.
"Are you all mad? Why sitting there with bowed head? Who will arrange the room I will stay in?!!" He barked, and everyone in the room jumped in fear.
"Go and remove all my belongings in my room and give it to him!" My father shouted instinctively, and all the maids ran out to do the same job. I know they were just too scared to stay in that palace any longer.
Just then, he finally turned his eyes to me, right there on the floor, where I was still sitting with my knees raised to my chin.
A throbbing fear seized me, and my mouth snapped shut into a thin line as I cringed and backed away upon seeing his gaze on me.
It would have been great if his eyes were calm, but they weren't. All I could see were glints of hatred shooting over it.
"Come and show me the way to the garden!" He ordered curtly, and I flinched, squinting my eyes and looking sideways as I wondered if he was really talking to me.
"Are you also deaf, you dirty slave!" He snarled, gritting his teeth in pure annoyance so I quickly stood, wincing as my stomach hurt me more.
"I'm sorry, sir." I mumbled in sadness, turning and heading out of the room with quick steps without looking back or checking if he was following me.
I don't want to ever see his face or stay close to him at this moment.
"Walk slowly, slave!" He shouted at me and my legs seized to a spot, tears brimming my eyes. Why is he calling me a slave? it hurts so much.
Why would he ask me to show him the garden?
All I wanted was to run and stay very far away from him.
He has crushed my heart and broken my entire being. I was even more miserable now, and every maltreatment or torture from my father or Laura seemed like they were nothing compared to what my mate was doing to me.
The only last person to love and care for me had also turned his back on me, and called me a slave.
He didn't care to ask anything about me, his mate, and my scent was irritating to him.
Maybe I should just die because this is too much to bear.