Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 145: Fear

Chapter 145: Fear

Ava leaned forward. Her shoulders were straight now, no longer bowed by fear, but braced with fury. Her eyes—red-rimmed and glassy moments before—now gleamed with sudden steel, a glint of fire igniting deep in her soul. "You are a fool, Alaric," she said with quiet venom.

Alaric had expected fear. Not the confident defiance of a woman who still had fight left in her.

She straightened further, squaring her stance. "Lucas will come for me," she said. "You may rip the mark from my skin, but you will never tear him from my soul. And when he gets here?" She smiled. A slow, terrifying smile of a woman who knew what her mate was capable of. "Goddess help you."

Alaric clapped slowly, his rings tapping mockingly against his palm. "Oh, but we want him to come," he said. "He is the most powerful alpha in the East. His downfall will be our first step in claiming everything beyond the border. And you, my dear," he said, walking toward her with confidence, "you will be the one to take him down... with your submission powers."

"And you think I’ll do that?" she spat, "Not even if you rip my heart out of my chest and feed it to the king on a silver platter."

"Oh, no," he said, voice low. "I won’t force you. You’ll do it all on your own. Because by the time I’m through with you, you will hate anything that reminds you of Alpha Lucas."

For a brief second, Ava’s confidence faltered. Her fingers clenched into fists. "What will you do to me?"

Alaric turned to Lucia. "Ensure she is presentable to dine with the king tonight." He turned to Ava again. "I suggest you be on your best behaviour or Zoe’s screams will pierce your ears all night."

But Alaric was already turning. He left without another word.

Ava stared at the closed door, her pulse thudding. Her heart pounded with the weight of a hundred what-ifs and one glaring truth: they weren’t just trying to break her body.

They were coming for her soul.

*****

The Queen did not knock.

The palace doors flew open with all the subtlety of a hurricane. She stormed into the king’s bedroom. Her eyes, already sharp enough to slice glass, burned with the kind of fury that makes even seasoned guards quiver.

She had overheard everything. Every word from Alaric’s smirking lips. Every smug prophecy about the new queen. Her replacement. Her throne. And if those two thought she was going to sit pretty while another woman took her crown—they were sorely mistaken.

"Eliza, what fresh hell is this?" Herod groaned as he sat up from his bed, rubbing his temples. His bare chest glistened with the lazy sheen of sleep, but his eyes narrowed as they found her in the doorway.

Eliza didn’t wait for an invitation. She stormed into the room. Her nightgown clung to her. "You brought another woman to be queen?! Herod? What in the actual fucking hell do you take me for? A placeholder? A warm body? Or the personal doormat you kick every time your ego needs polishing?"

Herod yawned. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked toward her, the lazy grace of a predator that no longer had to chase its prey. "She is useful to me," he said.

Eliza’s nostrils flared as she tilted her chin up to look him square in the face. "And what am I?"

"A forced annoyance," Herod replied, cool as an icicle in hell.

It was a slap in the face. Eliza actually took a step back, stunned. Her pulse roared in her ears. "How long," she whispered, breath catching, "will you punish me for the decisions our parents made?"

"I’m not punishing you," he said, tone dry as bone. "If I were, you’d know it. The woman—Ava—she will give me power beyond measure. And you?" He turned away with a disdainful glance over his shoulder. "You’ve given me nothing. You can’t even provide me with an heir."

"How would that even happen, Herod? When the only time you find me appealing enough to fuck is when you’re too drunk to finish the job and can barely get it up!"

Now that got his attention.

His eyes flared. "Watch your mouth! Woman!"

"Or what?!" she snapped, taking a step forward. "Where’s the lie?"

And then, she reached for the delicate ties at her shoulder and ripped her dress open in one dramatic motion. The silk fell to the floor in a whisper, revealing a body that artists would kill to sketch. She stood there in all her glory, chin high, rage hotter than shame. "This is me, Herod! Look at it. Feast your royal eyes. Can you get it up now? Huh? Can you?"

Herod’s fury came on fast. He stormed across the room, each footstep a threat. He gripped her throat with one hand and squeezed, lifting her slightly, choking the very breath from her protest.

"You think I’m less of a man?" he hissed, his face close, hot and trembling with rage. "I am more of a man than any you’ve ever had in your pathetic life."

Eliza smirked, her gaze dropping pointedly to Herod’s shorts. "Prove it," she challenged. "I fear you brought that woman for nothing. You’re broken."

Herod’s eyes narrowed, his pride wounded. In a flash of rage, he flung her across the room. She landed hard, sliding backward until she hit the wall. The impact stole her breath, but it was the disinterest that brought tears to her eyes. Herod was going to replace her. He always did whatever he wanted, consequences be damned. But before that happened, she vowed to kill the woman herself.

Herod, unbothered, threw on his bathrobe and disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water drowning out the Queen’s sobs.

*****

Ava sat through Lucia’s beauty routine and dress-up like a lifeless doll. She complied with every instruction, her mind elsewhere. She needed to buy time—for herself and for Zoe—until Lucas came for her.

Lucia escorted her to the dining room, pausing at the door. Ava stepped through, her eyes immediately locking onto a man dressed in a formal shirt and pants. He was slightly larger than Lucas, his presence commanding.

His eyes roamed over her, revealing nothing. Ava stood at the threshold, waiting for him to speak. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive. She glanced around the room, noting every detail, searching for any possible escape.

Her gaze settled on the already set dining table. She mentally cataloged the utensils, assessing which could serve as a weapon if needed.

"You bow in the presence of your king," Herod intoned, not unkindly, though his words carried the subtle weight of threat. He didn’t raise his voice—he didn’t need to. Every syllable dripped with the smug satisfaction of a man used to being obeyed. He studied Ava like she was a new breed of wolf he was trying to tame.

Ava’s jaw clenched, but her chin lifted defiantly. "You are not my king."

Herod’s lips curled into a slow smile, but there was steel behind it. He got to his feet, all elegance and control, walking with the leisurely menace of a predator that enjoyed the wait before the pounce. "I’ll give you time to adjust to our ways," he said, gesturing toward the long, luxurious table dressed with enough food to feed a small kingdom. "In the meantime, shall we eat?"

@princessH, @Daoistkriqcc: Where are you? I miss your comments.