Chapter 5: Craving in the Dark

Valdman;

The reins felt like chains forged from the coldest iron in my grip as I sat astride my massive warhorse, the beast pawing at the blood-soaked earth beneath us. Its muscles twitched with the same restrained violence that coursed through my own veins. To my right, Cade sat tall in his saddle, my Beta, ever watchful, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos I had wrought. Behind us, stretching like a river of broken flesh and shattered pride, came the survivors of the Wakefield pack; chained neck to neck, wrist to wrist, their once-proud bodies now bowed under the weight of defeat. My warriors rode alongside them like shepherds of suffering, whips resting in their hands, eager for the first sign of weakness.

I counted them slowly, deliberately, letting each soul feed the hollow place inside my chest. One hundred and eighty-seven. Men with broken spirits. Women clutching what remained of their dignity. A few wide-eyed children who would learn soon enough what it meant to serve the Iron Bloodline. A fine number. They would fill my mines perfectly, their bodies grinding ore from the earth until their backs fractured just as mine once had. The thought brought a grim flicker of fulfillment, though it was fleeting, as all victories had become.

My eyes found her at the rear of the line, the princess. Azalea Wakefield. The simple dark dress I had ordered Cade to give her clasped to her petite frame, the fabric slightly too large yet somehow emphasizing the delicate lines of her body. Golden hair matted with dirt and blood, those amber eyes downcast. Something dark tightened in my chest. My fingers clenched harder on the reins until the leather bit into my scarred palms.

“She looks perfect in that dress, does she not, my King?” Cade’s voice carried a note of something almost appreciative.

I turned my head with lethal slowness, fixing him with a stare that had made stronger men bleed. “Get your mind in order, Beta,” I growled, the words heavy with centuries of command. “Or I will carve the distraction out myself.”

The thunder of approaching hooves cut through the tension. Elric, my Gamma, pulled his horse up beside us, his face a mask of barely contained fury. He was as brutal as the scars that crisscrossed his own body, a man who had suffered at my side and risen through blood.

“Why did you break the brotherhood code for that disgusting slave, my King?” Elric demanded, his gaze slicing toward the princess with open contempt.

Cade’s jaw tightened. “No one questions the King.”

“One should, when the King shatters the very laws he forced upon us all,” Elric snarled, voice rising with the heat of old wounds. “Especially for her—the spawn of the man who destroyed everything.”

“Those men were attempting to violate the princess,” Cade replied, his tone measured but firm.

Elric barked a harsh laugh that echoed across the field. “Women have always been violated. We men tasted that hell countless times in the Rogues’ pits. Multiple cocks, night after night, until we prayed for death. What makes this one so sacred?”

Cade’s eyes flicked to me. “Because she is to be the King’s bride. And the King must be the first to claim her.”

Elric’s brow furrowed in disbelief. “First? You speak as if the princess is untouched—”

“She turned eighteen only days ago,” Cade cut in. “I can sense her purity with my own abilities.”

I ground my teeth until my jaw ached, the familiar rage boiling beneath my skin like molten iron. Enough of this bickering. I kicked my horse forward with savage force, setting off toward the east in a powerful gallop. The wind whipped at my cloak as behind me my men unleashed a thunderous roar of triumph. Whips cracked like lightning. Chains rattled. Slaves screamed in terror as the long march of their damnation began.

~~~~~~

The journey extended into an eternal torment of days and nights. We rode without mercy, the sun beating down on our backs by day and the wind cutting through our bones by night. At every stop; for water from muddy streams, sparse meals of dried meat, or brief rests on hard ground, I sat apart with Cade and Elric, maps spread before us under gleaming torchlight. We plotted the next pack we would crush, tracing routes through hostile territories like predators.

Every hill we crossed as the journey progressed reminded me of the ones I had crawled over as a broken boy, bleeding and violated. Every river we forded echoed the tears I had swallowed in the dark. The survivors stumbled behind us, falling, rising only under the bite of the whip. Their suffering fed me, yet it was not enough to fill the void left by my parents’ screams.

On the fifth day, as the sun bled across the horizon, the towering iron gates of my kingdom rose before us like the jaws of a victorious beast. My people had gathered in thousands along the path; men, women, and children waving banners of black and crimson, beating drums that thundered like war, playing flutes and horns in wild, triumphant melody. Cheers rose as we rode through, a sea of loyalty I had earned with blood and iron.

At the grand courtyard, I swung down from my horse, boots hitting stone with authority. “Elric,” I commanded, my voice carrying across the assembled crowd. “Prepare the feast tonight. Make it a celebration worthy of our conquest. Let every warrior feast until they cannot stand.”

I strode into my private chambers with Cade following close behind. The heavy oak doors closed behind us, sealing us in silence broken only by the crackling fire. I stripped off my bloodstained tunic and leathers with impatient movements, revealing the map of scars that covered my torso and back; reminders of every violation, every beating.

I stepped into the deep, marble-lined bathing pool, the water heated by servants and scented with rare herbs. The warmth seeped into my aching muscles as I submerged myself, leaning back against the smooth stone with an exhale.

Cade shed his clothes without hesitation, his powerful, scarred body entering the water. He moved closer, eyes dark with familiar hunger. He leaned in, capturing my mouth in a demanding kiss. I growled deep in my chest, one hand fisting in his hair as I kissed him back with bruising intensity, pouring into it all the pent-up rage and emptiness of the journey. His hand trailed down my chest, wrapping firmly around my hardening manhood, stroking with the exact rhythm he knew would drive me mad.

I spun him around with aggression, pressing his chest against the marble edge. My hand pumped his thick manhood in rough, possessive strokes while I positioned myself at his entrance. With one powerful thrust, I buried myself deep inside his tight heat. Cade moaned loudly, the sound echoing off the stone walls. I fucked him mercilessly, hips slamming forward again and again, each brutal stroke a release for the darkness clawing at my soul. He took every inch, his body a willing vessel for my violence.

My hand worked his length faster, matching our rhythm. Cade’s head fell back onto my shoulder, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I drove harder, deeper, as if I could rip him apart and somehow mend the broken parts of myself in the process.

The pleasure built, climbing toward the edge where ecstasy always met pain, the only way I could ever reach release after what the Rogues had done to me. I roared as I spilled inside him, the climax tearing through me.

I kept stroking him relentlessly until Cade shuddered and came hard, his release mixing with the bathwater. For a while, we remained locked together, breathing heavily in the steam-filled chamber. I planted a rough kiss to the side of his neck, almost tender in its brutality, before pulling away.

We washed in silence. Cade helped me dress in a fresh black tunic embroidered with silver threads befitting a king, then clothed himself. Together we returned to the great hall where the feast was in full fury; music pounding, tables heavy with roasted meats, breads, and flowing wine, women dancing provocatively for my victorious warriors.

Elric approached my throne, bowing. “Your new bride has been prepared and awaits you in your chamber, my King.” A fulfilled smile graced his mouth. “It is time to mate her, so the rest of the men may claim their share of the spoils.”

My fingers clenched the armrest of my throne so tightly the wood creaked in protest. I snatched up a goblet of strong wine, drained it in one burning swallow, and rose to my feet. Without a word, I stormed toward my private chambers, dark hunger and hatred warring in my chest.

The princess, my enemy’s daughter, awaited her fate at my hands.