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Chapter 5 - Visting the Thief

Marigold's POV

The door clicked shut with a desolate finality, plunging me back into an inky blackness that seemed to swallow the very air

My throat was raw from the scream I'd let out, a desperate, animalistic sound that had been swallowed whole by the oppressive silence of the dungeon

The pain in my hand pulsed, a relentless, fiery ember radiating agony up my arm, making every beat of my heart a hammer against raw nerves. Grace Silvers

Her face, a mask of cold fury and wicked

satisfaction, was branded onto the insides of my eyelids

Her words, sharp as shards of ice, sliced through my thoughts

"Who sent you? What charm did you use on the Alpha?"

My head throbbed, a dull ache that eclipsed even the burning in my hand. Charm? What insanity was she speaking of?

I was Marigold Calixta, a human girl from a dusty, forgotten corner of this village, whose only magic was the fierce, unwavering love for her ailing father

I had no charms, no hidden powers, only a desperate hope to save the only family I had left

Now, even that hope felt like a fragile wisp, ready to dissipate into the cold, damp air of this prison

I huddled deeper into myself, my knees drawn tightly to my chest, a futile attempt to make myself invisible

The stone floor beneath me was brutally cold, leeching warmth from my already shivering body

The air hung heavy, thick with the stench of mildew, decay, and something else… something animalistic and unnerving that made the hairs on my arms stand on end

Every shadow seemed to writhe, every rustle of unseen vermin amplified into a monstrous scuttling.

My breath hitched, caught in my chest, as I imagined eyes watching me from the dark, hungry and patient

Was it a wolf? A rat? Or something far worse, something only found in the deepest, forgotten corners of an Alpha's dungeon?

My fingers, sticky with blood, trembled as I tentatively peeled them away from my injured hand. In the oppressive gloom, it was hard to see, but I could feel it

The searing pain, though still intense, felt… different

Less sharp, more like a dull ache that was slowly, miraculously, receding

I squinted, trying to make out the gash Grace's heel had torn

There, amidst the smeared crimson, a faint, pale line was forming, bridging the torn skin

My eyes widened in disbelief, a sudden, cold dread washing over me. It was healing. Rapidly. Too rapidly

Just like the Alpha's hand

The memory of the Alpha, Gerald, wiping blood from his own mouth after he had choked me, flashed vividly in my mind

The furious glint in his eyes as he looked at his bleeding arm, mirroring the cut he had inflicted on me. And then, my touch

The strange sensation, the immediate cessation of his pain, the disappearance of the dark veins on his arm

It had all been too fast, too surreal to process in the terror of the moment. But now, in the chilling quiet of the dungeon, the pieces began to click into place, forming a terrifying, incomprehensible puzzle

What was happening to me?

What inexplicable connection had formed between us?

Was this what Grace meant by Charm?

But it wasn't a charm

It was something deeper, something visceral that transcended understanding

I was just Marigold Calixta, a simple human, but now, a human whose touch could heal an Alpha, a human who felt his pain, and whose wounds seemed to mend themselves with unnatural speed. This wasn't magic, not as I knew it

This was… monstrous. Or perhaps, something infinitely more dangerous

Tears, hot and stinging, began to well in my eyes once more, but these were tears of utter bewilderment and profound fear, not just of punishment, but of the unknown within me. My father. Emily

Would I ever see them again? The thought was a bitter poison. I had been so foolish, so desperate

Emily's plan, a whispered suggestion in the dim light of our hut, had seemed like a daring, albeit dangerous, escape route from my father's impending death

It was the only way to get the money for his vital medication, the only path I saw to keeping him alive

But that path had led me here, to this cold, dark cage, under the watchful, furious eyes of a ruthless Alpha and his vengeful queen

My heart ached, a hollow, echoing drum against my ribs

Emily would have to take care of Father now. She had to. She was my only friend, the only one I trusted

A faint click, then the groan of rusted hinges, pierced the suffocating silence

Light, a blinding sliver at first, then a harsh glare, spilled into the cell

My breath hitched. Footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum against the stone

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing the ground would swallow me whole. This was it. The reckoning

Gerald's POV

"Your mate seems to be in pain"

The Goddess's words, spoken with such infuriating calm, slammed into me like a physical blow. Mate

The single syllable resonated in my mind, a chaotic symphony of disbelief, outrage, and something far deeper—a visceral pull I immediately fought against

My wolf, Rhys, deep within my consciousness, let out a low, mournful howl, a primal acknowledgment that sent a shiver of unwelcome recognition through my veins

I ignored him, my focus fixed on the blossoming wound on my right hand

A small, circular mark, distinct and agonizing, just like the one I had instinctively known appeared on herhand

And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it began to fade, leaving behind only a faint, lingering ache

The raw, sickening realization that her pain was my pain, that her wounds were my wounds, tightened my jaw to a painful degree.

Impossible

Preposterous. I, Gerald Silver, Alpha of Bert Village, ruler with an iron fist, renowned for my cold demeanor and ruthless decisions, fated to a common human, a thief who dared to trespass in my palace and steal my most prized possession?

The very thought was an affront to my status, an insult to my pack, and a humiliating mockery of my carefully constructed lift

My gaze, still burning red with barely contained fury, snapped back to Emily

She merely tilted her head, an infuriatingly serene smile playing on her lips, as if she enjoyed witnessing my unraveling

"Impossible," I snarled, my voice low, a menacing growl rumbling in my chest

"I have two wives, one chosen by the Elders to secure alliances, another by betrothal to strengthen bonds. I have responsibilities, a lineage to uphold, a pack to lead. I cannot be mated to a mere human, a common criminal. This… this bond… it will be broken"

My pacing became more agitated, my strides long and restless across the polished marble of my chambers

Every step felt like a futile attempt to outrun the truth she had just unleashed

Emily's smile did not waver, only deepened slightly

"Fate cares little for titles, Alpha. Or for your arranged marriages. It simply is"

Her words were a soft, persistent rain on a raging fire, doing nothing to extinguish the flames but serving only to intensify the hiss of my indignation

"You speak of fate as if it's some grand design," I scoffed, turning to face her, my eyes gleaming with a dangerous, untamed light

"I choose my own path. I will not be bound by some mystical connection to a thieving peasant. This… whatever this is… it will be excised. If she is a weakness, she will be removed"

The thought was a chilling balm to my rising panic. Control. I needed control

A flicker of something—pity? amusement? a hint of defiance?—crossed Emily's face, too fleeting for me to truly grasp

"Perhaps. But perhaps she is not a weakness, Alpha. Perhaps she is your strength. A mirror to your true self, one you have long denied"

My jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might shatter

"Enough of your riddles, Goddess. You will tell me everything, every detail of this… connection… or you will face my wrath"

The threat was not idle

My wolf was now stirring with a restless energy, eager to unleash the raw power that simmered beneath my skin

"My wrath is nothing compared to the wrath of fate, Gerald" she said, her voice soft but firm, a stark contrast to my own volatile fury

"You can fight it, deny it, imprison it… but you cannot escape it. Not forever."

The words hung in the air, a chilling prophecy that echoed the deepest, most unsettling fears of my wolf. My mate

The concept was abhorrent, a direct challenge to everything I was, everything I had built

Yet, the strange connection, the shared pain, the inexplicable healing that defied all known logic, tugged at something deep within me

It wasn't just physical; it was an emotional resonance, a distant echo of distress that was slowly, maddeningly, becoming my own

A constant hum beneath my conscious thought, a faint whisper of her presence

I needed answers. Not from this infuriating Goddess who spoke in riddles, but from the source itself. From her

What power did this woman possess to affect me, the Alpha? How could she bypass my formidable defenses, penetrate my very being with her pain? I had to understand this

I had to see her again, not out of compassion, but out of a desperate, consuming need to unravel this mystery

I needed to assess her, test this bond, and figure out how to neutralize it, or perhaps, to use it to my advantage, if such a thing were possible

My wives, Grace and Belinda, drifted into my thoughts like wisps of smoke

Grace, the barren princess, a political alliance. Belinda, the gentle family friend, a betrothal of convenience

Neither evoked this violent, perplexing pull, this primal recognition that now thrummed within me

My position, my reputation, my carefully cultivated image of a ruthless, untouchable Alpha—all of it hung in a precarious balance

This mate bond, if it truly existed, threatened to shatter everything

I dismissed the Goddess with a curt nod, turning away before she could utter another cryptic phrase

The decision was made. I stalked out of my chambers, the Goddess's words echoing, a persistent hum that grated on my nerves

My pace was swift, each stride fueled by a simmering anger and an unsettling curiosity

The dungeon — That's where the answers lay

My wolf thrummed, a strange mix of resentment and an undeniable pull, a magnetic force I refused to acknowledge

I reached the heavy, iron-bound door, the stench of damp stone and fear already reaching me

My hand paused on the cold metal, a final surge of denial warring with an insatiable need to understand

Taking a deep breath, I threw the door open, the harsh light from the corridor cutting through the darkness

And there she was — Curled in a corner, head bowed, trembling. My supposed mate —The thief

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